Feral (First draft)

Buralo Yard

It was a long trek through the crowded wood that surrounded their territory. Brock would often get lost as a kid. It took a good three years to map out the entirety of their territory in his head.

That being said, after runs like the ones he just took, it usually took a few moments to gather himself before he could confidently figure out where he was. Two trees away from the blue mushroom path. Sixteen away from the west pond. Five hundred and three from the entrance to the pack house. No more than a half hour hike back to the house.

A few distinct scents were hidden in the wind. Though it was harder to catch than normal, Brock could barely make out what or rather who it was.

Davie.

A smile pulled at his cheeks. Beaming with pure joy.

Brock slowed his approach. Not only did he have to change back, but he had to find one of the many clothing caches within their backyard. Usually they weren't very hard to find. But after an unexpected attack of another pack, they learned to mask the caches scents as to not lead them directly towards the house. Like last time.

He stood for a few moments concentrating on getting his hands back. He expected resistance. But not like this. He doubled over in pain and stretched his paws as far as they would go. Almost like silly putty, the splits between each paw slowly pulled apart and elongated into fingers. Thus kickstarting the rest of the change.

Afterwards, laying on his back in the leaves and dirt felt like a much needed rest. Stretching out his back and cracking the necessary bones released a tension he had grown used to. It was liberating.

Twenty minutes went by before he had enough strength to get off his back. The twigs and rocks were not kind to the bottoms of his feet. Some even dug themselves deep into the soft flesh.

Brock no longer felt full of energy. At this point the only thing motivating him to continue moving forward was David being there. Buralo was just another property with a house without him. At least that's how Brock always felt. Even if he did grow up on the acres of grass and trees, the house was never home to him.

He took in a deep breath trying to locate a cache.

They change their positions every now and then to keep everyone on their feet. It took a few years of training to get good enough to locate the caches. They smelled like the forest if you weren't keen.

Luckily, he didn't have to walk far in the brisk pre-winter air. It was hidden underneath a semi uprooted tree between the roots and trunk. How they managed to get such a big box under there without damaging the roots was a mystery to him.

A Hawaiian shirt that was three or four sizes too big and a super tight sweater were on top of the pile inside. Digging a little further down a few pairs of grey and brown pants. Maybe a rainbow shirt. It was a little bit dark under there so it was hard to tell. He brought out one of the pairs of pants and the rainbow shirt since looking at the tags, they weren't going to look incredibly huge or small on him.

It was definitely a woman's fit shirt.

Brock settled for the Hawaiian shirt instead. Closing the cache with a solid thud sent a small burst of air which made a cloud of dirt particles flurry into his face. A sneeze echoed through the dense array of trees.

He climbed the last of the hill from the backyard and passed by the rabbit pen unlocking it with a smile. His limbs still trembled from overuse and the change. A long rest would reverse it.

Inside the house, many different scents tangled together. Most were familiar and calm in some way. But a few were almost red like a hot pepper. And David was one of them.

Brock pushed through the kitchen into the living room. Where a small crowd of people stood surrounding David and someone else.

At least everything was quiet.

"Davie?"

He whipped his head back to look at Brock. Covered in dirt and some blood around his mouth. He'd gone hunting. David's posture softened.

"Hey." Not even batting an eyelash, Brock sprung from his spot and threw his arms around his friend.

"Hi."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Was I really that convincing?" Brock said.

"No... well, yes. You're like the only person who has any sway on my actions. You shouldn't be surprised." David took a gulp of wine from his glass. "Besides, I've been keeping in touch with Alpha Thomas. She's concerned with your health and wanted me to intervene for a week to see if there's any change." Brock's face fell. There wasn't anything wrong from what he could tell. Was that the only reason he came? "I was already coming over after our last convo. You had me a little worried too."

Brock averted his eyes and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Damn. I'm losing my touch." He whispered.

"Brock, I... I worry a lot. Especially about you." Though it was obvious to everyone, Brock felt like he was hearing it for the first time.

"How do you not hate me?"

"Ah see, I've hated you since the moment I met you." David smirked. Brock looked like he was being serious. Narrowing his eyes at David. "But I'd be lying if I said I still do."

"First of all, you contradicted yourself. Second of all, I don't believe for a second you hated me. Why else would you be so concerned about what phase I'm going through?" He put air quotes around the word phase.

"Brock, this isn't a phase. You've been like this since right after I... left. That's partly why I'm so concerned. Since I feel responsible."

"You shouldn't."

"But I do. You've been a fragile soul since we were kids. I can't just sit back and watch you drown in your own thoughts. Without doing anything to relieve your stress." His eyes tilted upward in shame. Which wasn't David's intentions.

"This isn't what I wanted."

"What did you want then?"

"I wanted to talk about stuff like old times. Before you met Mags. When we could run around the forest without worrying about other packs invading. Just talking."

"Wait..."

"What?"

"Another pack? Invasion? When did that happen? I've only been gone for a year." His voice quivered. The harsh cold suddenly crept in. What the hell did he miss?

"Oh." He pauses and bit his lip nervously. "Davie, a few months ago I was out for a run. I heard the signal. Alpha Thomas howled. Turns out a rival pack followed our caches through the woods to our house. And they weren't in the mood for negotiating." Brock's eyes watered. David heard his heart start to race. "Mel and Abram were on guard. Cassi and Joy were both asleep. And I... I fucking stood there as Alpha Thomas grabbed their throat. I'm a hunter. During an invasion, I'm supposed to be there choking the son of a bitches out with my Alpha." Brock suddenly stopped. His eyes grew wide as they practically bulged out of his head. "But I just stood there paralyzed. Mel has to wrestle six people to get to me. And then Alpha Thomas slaughtered three of them."

It was quiet afterwards.

David shifted in his seat. Only having his hand outstretched from the chair. Brock's fingers were close to touching his.

And they collided for a moment. Until it was no longer just a moment. They both stared out into the space. While their hands were closely holding eachother, they sat in silence.