We had to stop to take a break. I was not used to my new body, Mom was getting up in the years, and she even admitted to me that she could not run like she used to.
Now right about now, you are probably wondering why in the world I am not still freaking out like the hounds of hell are chasing after me. Well, that is because the tribe has a thing known as ancestral memories. We don't have every memory of our ancestors, but we get just enough to make up for what instinct does not cover.
That leads to what happened next...
"Pup", Mother said, "your color has yet to come through. We can not go to the pack until they show."
"Mother, I don't understand. Why must we wait? The color of my fur can't be that important."
"The color, patterns, and length of your fur says a lot about who you are. Not in here," she points to her head, "but in here" and then puts her hand on my heart.
"My daughter....."
She stop and stares. I look down and begin to see black and gray emerge in my no longer snow white fur.
YOU ARE READING
The Wolf and the Moon
WerewolfWhen one story ends another begins. This is the story of the end of my Mother and the beginning of me. The end of her story and the start of mine. And it all began with the omen of the wolf and the moon.
