Chapter Two

Rose

The Starlight Carnival came around to a few packs during the spring and summer months. This was the first time in over a decade that the Carnival came to Silver Crescent.

We were a small peaceful pack tucked away in the dense forests of the Appalachian Mountains. Most of the human towns around us were run down and honestly depressing. I had wandered into towns when my parents first started to let me roam. They typically reeked of sadness and broken dreams. Typically storefront windows were smashed in. Creepy cobwebs hung down from the eaves like streamers as if the spiders were throwing a party for death.

I tried to avoid the human towns after that. We rarely had werewolves from other packs visit. The Starlight Carnival was one of the few chances for many people from the Silver Crescent pack to meet their mates. During the Carnival, the pack borders are open, and werewolves can attend regardless of their pack. The Starlight Carnival is how my parents met. 

Twenty-five years ago, on a starry night was when their love story began. My dad had gone to the Carnival with a few of his friends just for fun; he never had the intention of anything more than just laughs with his friends. As his friends and he went on a rollercoaster, he caught a whiff of something, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Whatever the scent was had piqued his interest, but he kept trying to ignore it. The smell slowly began to imprint itself in my dad’s soul. At nineteen, the best way my dad could describe it was something sweet and earthy kept calling out to him.

Later on in his life, he would pinpoint the scent of maple syrup and thyme. No matter how much he tried to enjoy the Carnival with his friends, his wolf, Anthony, kept begging him to follow the scent. My dad says Anthony was acting like a pup on a sugar rush; he was all over the place, desperate to get to the source of the smell.

Finally, my dad gave in to the whims of his wolf. Without another thought, he steered his friends in the direction of the smell. When my dad finally found my mom, he said that it was as if time stopped just for them. Everything went silent. There were no longer the squeals of children or the music being pumped through the Carnival. His friends stupid jokes slipped away into nothingness. The world stopped for this moment, for them.

The twinkle lights shone brightly in my mother’s blue eyes, and the gentle breeze rained a few petals from a dogwood tree down onto her. My mother was there at the carnival weaving floral crowns. She almost knocked over a bucket of daisies when the smell of freshly roasted pecans wafted her way. When he and my mom locked eyes, they just knew that they had found the other piece of their soul. Both in unison whispered, “Mate.”

Before my dad knew it, my mom had jumped into his arms. In the blink of an eye, he marked my mom right then and there. He hadn’t even asked her what her name was. After four pups and twenty-five years later, my dad still can’t resist my mom’s scent. However, he does have a bit better control when it comes to PDA now.

The Starlight Carnival is a critical part of my parent’s love story, and many of the pack members love stories as well. Many wolves celebrate this Carnival as a gift from the moon goddess herself as a chance to find the one that completes their soul.