The Unwanted Wendigo [ManxMan]

Chapter Thirty-seven: Family Bonding

[Warning: Briefly referenced past psychological abuse.]

~Chapter Thirty-seven: Family Bonding~

If the saying about a watched kettle never boiling had a wendigo version, then it would be that a watched wendigo never leaves. It has been three days since the hunt, and I have not had a single chance to escape since, as both Jackson and his sire have been watching me almost religiously. In fact, in those three days, I have been alone for all of twenty-eight seconds - I counted - and that was only because I managed to sneak past Jackson when he was busy sweeping the parlor.

I had thought it was a lapse in his attention, but I only made it to the kitchen before Ahanu - who is apparently a third generation wendigo, making the First wendigo his grandsire and him a lot older than I originally thought - basically just appeared out of thin air right behind me when I tried reaching for the backdoor. Rather than threaten me, though, all he did was lightly scold me by saying, "Good nestlings don't go outside without their sire's permission."

Before I, while hyped up on adrenaline and the sudden surge of fear his reverse vanish brought on, had the chance to put my foot in my mouth, and I could see that Ahanu was waiting for me to do just that, Jackson had joined us. Now, I would like to be able to say that he was frazzled by my attempted escape, but he seemed pretty calm about it, and, in hindsight, I have to wonder if he was more aware of what I was trying to do than he let on. Still, he had distracted me just as I was preparing to say something stupid by asking me if I was ready to eat yet, leading me to snap at him rather than Ahanu, averting the crisis before it could happen.

Still, even though I had claimed not to be hungry, the thought of food had made my stomach growl pretty loudly at the time, and I could see that neither of them believed me...as if they would even believe me anyway. We are all wendigo, so it is not like I can just fool them into thinking I am not always hungry. And they also undoubtedly know that I have not eaten all that recently, so they must know I am hungrier than usual right now. Yet, they did not press me to eat and instead just sandwiched me between them on a couch while they watched a movie.

And in the process, I had completely forgotten why I even entered the kitchen in the first place until later that night.

However, that had been over eighteen hours ago, and though I would like to say that I am more clear-headed now and ready to try again, I know I am not. And I can blame the sire-nestling bond - stupid name, but I didn't come up with it - for that.

According to what Jackson had told me, the blood he had made me swallow at the end of the chase had been to establish a bond between a sire without a nestling and a nestling without a sire. When a human is successfully turned by a wendigo, that bond naturally forms due to the exchange of bodily fluids that has to happen for the change to occur, so Henry had automatically formed one with me when he changed me. However, he never told me about it, and when he died, that connection broke. I only vaguely remember feeling kind of sick and tired for about a month after killing Henry, but I had chalked it up to being ill over killing someone I knew rather than anything like the breaking of a bond I was not even aware existed.

Still, it kind of brought some clarity to something I remember Henry saying that stuck with me for many years.

"I'll always be with you here, Lance."

And I still remember the way he had been tapping his head with that smug smirk on his face. After all, I had been so focused on the fact that I thought he had gotten the location wrong - most people would say that they would always be in someone's heart, not mind - that it had been hard to forget. Now, though, I think I understand what he had been trying to say, as the bond apparently does not just fade the moment a nestling becomes a full-fledged wendigo; it lasts for as long as both parties are still alive.