The Silver Wolf Pt 03

"How long have I been with you, Barry?"

"Seven years now. What's wrong?"

It was a January night, with a blizzard raging outside the door. Five children were nestled upstairs in the ranch house, sleeping peacefully in anticipation school would be cancelled the next day. Barry and Sarah were in their family room, dressed for bed, a cozy fire blazing. "I don't know how Michela put up with this. Why didn't you tell me?"

"What? I thought you said Michela told you everything."

"Not that I'd give birth to the Brady Bunch in wolf form, watch them run around like puppies until they were old enough to walk, seeing them find trouble in more ways than I could've ever imagined. I could have handled motherhood one baby at a time. Then they become human at three, and chew up every minute of my life. I thought they'd never be ready for kindergarten. Now the university isn't hiring when I'm ready to go back to work, and my kickstarter grant to dig in Vinland this summer hasn't gotten any action."

"Honey, we'll go anyway. I'll show you where my birthplace was, it'll be the biggest discovery of the century, you'll be famous overnight."

"I don't know if I can focus on it."

"I'll stay home with the kids, get some grad students to go on an independent study. My cousins there run a bed and breakfast, you'll stay for free."

Sarah stood up and loomed over him. "YOU could lead the damn dig, since you know where everything is, tell them what daily life was really like without them guessing all over the place. Hell, bet your great-grandfather even kept a diary."

There was a long, tense silence. The animal gleam in her eyes was one he shuddered to see: a look of frustration and rebellion. "What's the matter, dear?" he said softly.

"I don't fucking care anymore! Tired of being a mother, tired of housekeeping, tired of...everything! I'm tired of your secrecy. No, don't worry, I'm not telling your secret to anyone, but I'm tired of playing games with reality. The pack really doesn't accept me, and I realized the other day I won't live as long as you will! Werewolves created as adults don't get the extended lifespan. Hell, Michela put out for you, had a litter herself, played along with your conspiracy, and she just died. Seventy five years, and gave you everything she had!"

"She knew what she was doing. She was happy, I let her have space, even let her leave me. Her children revere her. I revere her memory."

"So bloody what? You'll make it to around three hundred, but not me. You'll put me in the ground like you have the rest of your mates through the years. I will be a distant memory to my children for most of their lives. Well, I'm doing you a favor, I'll let you cry over me now. Goodbye!"

"It's a bad night to go out, Sarah. Wait 'til the blizzard passes."

The wind howled at that moment; the windows showed small patches of white moving almost sideways. The cold could be felt in spite of the fire.

"There's always a storm here. Fortunately, I have other transportation...thank you and fuck you!"

She threw off her bathrobe, revealing herself naked in the firelight. Her body was still taught, her breasts high, her hair a solid red flame when undone. A shimmer and she became a red wolf.

"Sarah!" The wolf raised her hackles, and bolted out through the pet door into the snow.

***

"Silver Wolf, did she not know even wolves die in blizzards?" Running Rabbit still sits cross-legged on the ground, his face stoic. He puts his hand on his friend's shoulder again.

Barry murmurs. "No, she only went out in wolf form in the summertime. Never learned the winter lore of woodcraft as a wolf, thought she was immune to everything. The pack found her body three days later, in an abandoned beaver lodge. Fortunately, we return to human form when we die."

"I remember the lore of your people. Although you have dozens of children, wolf and human, you still needed to sire an heir, since the next prince always comes from the youngest litter of an old prince. So it was with you, so it was with your father, so it was with your grandfather.

"I didn't think, didn't cover everything she needed to know. Didn't know I had to keep her spirits up, talk to her about the development of werewolf children. Thought her enthusiasm for our lifestyle would deepen over the years. Didn't try hard enough to keep her happy."

"An old song, sung by many minstrels. In spite of this, you are still wise, and a great prince to lead your pack. So it has been sung by my father and my grandfather, so my son and grandson will sing it."

The light is gone from the West, and moonlight from the East takes over. A wolf cries in the distance, hunting. A satellite goes from horizon to horizon in a minute; the clouds that framed the moonrise move away over the horizon.

The old Blackfoot lights a cigarette. "Michela left you as well, if I remember rightly"

"Yes, but we remained friends, lovers. We raised our litter together, saw them off to a good start. Worked on history together. She even sent me Sarah."

"Well, then. You've known enough human relationships to know nothing is standard, nothing normal. We take what comes to us, and strive to be our best selves." They sit in silence for a long time, and the Northern light play in the sky. "Your pups are doing well?"

"Yes. One will be chief, the eldest. I see it in his heart already."

"Good, my friend. Sarah's spirit will walk with you, with all the others you have known through the long years. There will be peace at the end of the journey."

"Thank you, Running Rabbit." A hunting wolf cries in the distance again.

"Will you camp with us tonight, Silver Wolf?"

There is a shimmering, and the silver wolf returns. He exchanges a long, solemn look with his friend, then bounds down the slope, on his way to hunt.