Expectations Of Nature

23 - Aftermath

Mild Mature Content!

***

Weeks have flown by since Nate and I became official, and I've fully embraced my role as Luna. I've been knee-deep in paperwork, but it's not all about sitting behind a desk. I've made it a point to visit our pack's school and kindergarten to check on how things are running. Armed with a notepad, I jotted down ideas for improvements, eager to make a positive impact.

Facing a sea of curious young faces during an assembly was a new challenge for me. Their shameless stares were a bit unsettling, but I reminded myself that kids will be kids, their curiosity untamed and pure.

The visit to the kindergarten was a heartwarming experience. Perched on a tiny chair, I listened as each little ones came up to share their stories-some hilarious, others a delightful jumble of words. I offered my most enthusiastic applause and cheers even if I didn't understand a word.

At the heart of it, my role was all about being there for the pack-lending an ear, offering support, and just being present. Support, however, was a skill I was still working on. Like the time Ms. Bennete came to me, frustrated because her goats had managed to break through the gates and turn her backyard into a mess. I wasn't exactly sure how to help at first.

But then, inspiration struck. I offered her a solution with a smile, suggesting we could get a repairman to set up brand-new gates around her property. To my relief, she was thrilled with the idea, even coming over to give me a hug in her gratitude.

"At least you listened; thank you. Luna Othelia would usually just patch up the old thing and forget all about me," she shared, her words warm but leaving me feeling a tad awkward as she hugged me. It was a small but meaningful reminder that sometimes, just being heard can make all the difference.

The prospect of detailing the fence incident in my evening report felt just as uncomfortable as Ms. Bennet's hug. I could see why Othelia might have hesitated to replace the entire fence - our pack's finances were already stretched thin. Nate had taken the time to walk me through our financial situation, showing me the intricate dance of income and expenditure he navigated to steer us away from debt.

He had ingeniously redistributed tasks among the pack members, ensuring that everyone played a part in our collective prosperity. The wood-felling operations, alongside agriculture - my father's occupation, though on a smaller scale - became our primary sources of income. Nate didn't stop there; he ventured into the stock market, reinvesting the pack's earnings in hopes of amplifying our financial stability.

And, as it turned out, his strategy was paying off. The pack's financial health was gradually improving, a testament to Nate's foresight and our community's hard work. It was a delicate balance, but one that we were managing to maintain, inching our way towards a more secure future.

I was actually proud of Nate for putting so much of his time, patience, and work into this, just to make sure we could stand strong even in the eyes of the human counsellor. I was impressed with how things were working out.

Waking up without Nate by my side to the discomfort of a throbbing headache and a churning stomach was not how I envisioned starting my day. Being a werewolf usually meant I was shielded from the ordinary illnesses that humans often faced, like colds or the flu. Yet, here I was, feeling decidedly unwell as I dragged myself to the bathroom, only to be met with an urgent need to vomit.

After dealing with the unpleasantness of throwing up last night's dinner, my headache persisted, stubborn and unyielding. I went through the motions of my morning routine, even without my usual appetite, a nagging suspicion about the cause of my sickness lurking in the back of my mind. However, confirming my suspicions would require more than just intuition.