The Witch and the Wolf ✔️

Lost Girls

Once I hit the forest, I pumped my arms and legs, kicking my knees up higher. I was in the witch's territory now— Aunt Regina once told me that the only place where a witch should be unafraid is the forest, for she should be the most terrifying in it.

And I aimed to terrify them all.

A howl rose up into the night, chilling my bones.

Hecate! Protect me from them! Give me the strength to go faster, to outrun them!

Through the thicket I ran, even though it scratched at my face and arms and dress, leaving scraps of fabric behind. It would slow the wolves down only a little bit. I lifted my skirts as I approached a river, and almost immediately tripped.

"Damn these shoes!" I reached down and fumbled with the straps. The howling grew louder. I ripped the shoes off of my feet, picked up my skirts, and ran as fast as I could, soaking wet.

I darted through the trees, hoping to throw them off just a bit longer, just until I could figure out some spell to help me.

🐺🌙🔮

Hecate—known colloquially as 'the witches' goddess,' Hecate is the fourth of the moon goddesses. She is only worshipped by the members of the Guild, and some speculate that she is a new addition to the religion.

She protects her children, the witches, from the other Moon Children and her sisters' vendetta against the Guild. Her gifts are small, but they are powerful and come when her followers need them the most.

-Regina Bishop, 1997

🐺🌙🔮

The moon was high in the sky as I began to wear out. I couldn't keep running for much longer, but I knew there would be a swift price to pay if they caught me. I scrambled up a large oak, as far as I dared, and I hugged the tree branch, and whispered a prayer.

"Hecate, help me please, deliver me from evil here. I just want to go home to my aunts."

For a moment, I thought of an incantation. "Mallus lupus, mallus lupus, defender de mallus lupus, defender sorcerera."

I heard the howling draw closer, and I screwed my eyes shut. This was the end, it was surely the end.

I could hear the wolves sniffing around the base of the tree, and I didn't dare look down. Not even for a second.

Then a wolf further off howled, and they ran away.

I opened my eyes and watched them leave. Only a small gray wolf paused before running off to join the rest of the pack.

I breathed a sigh of relief, and looked to the sky. I quickly found Polaris, and started figuring out the rest of the night sky. With any luck, I could find my own way back home.

Yet, as my heart rate began to slow, a thought entered my head.

Did I want to go back to the Southlands? Be under the thumb of the wolves for another second?

Then a thought occurred to me, for the first time ever, I'm ashamed to say.

I could join my father's people— the Hunters' Society, they called themselves. Monster-hunters. They'd take me, with my father's name to back me up.

Lorna Harrison sounded a lot less wishy-washy then Lenora Bishop.

But where would I find them?

I shook my head. I'd start by getting to the nearest town. Then I could do whatever I needed to, to get money for a ticket back to my hometown, back to Winchester. I knew where the Hunters' Society lived, there. I knew how to find them.

I could build a brand new live, and avenge my parents after all this time.

🐺🌙🔮

One aspect to mating that is frequently overlooked— the way it affects the wolf spirit within the werewolves. These spirits are downright monstrous, reminiscent of the Big Bad Wolf in European fairytales.

They also become quite possessive of mates. Part of the Mating Ectasy is to prevent this, but sometimes a mate will reject a wolf, especially if they are the other kind of Moon Child, or they are human.

In this case, the wolf will do anything to track down and keep the mate— even against the mate's wishes.

-Josephine Bishop, 1824

🐺🌙🔮

I walked until I found a small hollow, where I could hide and sleep, until morning came and the wolves had to return home. They had to do so sometime, didn't they?

I tore a bit of my skirts off for a pillow, and drew my knees to my chest for warmth. It was so cold, in the mountains. Yet with the wicked wind blowing, I fell asleep quite quickly.

That was when I dreamed about my father. 

"Alright, Lorna." He grinned in that genuine way, as if a bit of the sun had been trapped in him. "What are the rules with guns?"

"Act like every single one is loaded," I said, only four at the time. "Only pick it up if Mommy or Daddy tell me to, or if they're in trouble. If I do, only aim at what I'm supposed to aim at, and don't wait to shoot."

"That's my girl." He ruffled my hair.

"Daddy, I have a question?"

"Yes, Lorna?"

"Why doesn't Mommy live with us?" All my friends at the time lived with both their parents, and I knew everyone seemed to think it was weird that my dad was my only guardian. They also didn't believe me when I said I had a mom.

Dad bit his lip. "It's complicated."

I stamped my foot. "That's what you always say when you don't want to answer a question."

"Well, I mean it this time."

"I still want to know."

"I know. . . I'm just trying to figure out how to explain it. It's one of those things that will make more sense when you're older."

"How much older?" I jumped straight to negotiation.
He laughed. "Just like your mom— tell you what, in two years, I think you'll get it— think you can wait that long?"

"Maybe." I looked down at the gun at the table. "Can you tell me more about what's in the armory?"

"Now that, I can do." He ruffled my hair again. "Let's go."

I woke up in that haze of love. My parents loved me— so much that it still felt tangible, even after their deaths. Right then and there, I could feel his ghost beside me, in the early morning hours.

I got up— I'd need to forage some. But hopefully, with a little luck, the next town would be a matter of soon.