Wolf Out Of The Bag (2)

"Been thinking of wearing a doggie backpack," I told him.

"Hard to put that on as a wolf by yourself," he replied.

Instead of answering, I started shifting my body. It's natural for me to begin with my feet when I'm doing a total shift. Concentration and practice, which my dad had insisted upon as he taught me, were essential for changing just part of yourself. I focused on my shoulder, making me look for a moment like a misshapen creature right out of some horror movie, before going on to my hand.

Mom had insisted on teaching me animal anatomy, which is very different from human anatomy. She'd been the best vet in the area. How often had she drilled me on this? I could hear her gentle voice explaining how joints on four legs work at different angles. So, shift shoulder, elbow ... ehh ... keep human wrist, get a combo of paw and fingers ... I went back to full human.

"Working on it," I told Running Elk.

From the look on his face, Running Elk was trying not to throw up. I didn't say anything more, giving him time to settle his stomach.

"How's it working?" he finally asked, glancing at the silver orb above us. "Aren't werewolves supposed to change under the light of the full moon?"

"You've watched too many movies," I laughed. "Moon's irrelevant for shifting. Moonlight, however ... Well, wolves don't see as people do. Moonlight during a full moon is almost like daylight, only better. It makes things gleam, almost like having night vision. Mom loved the moonlight."

Another silence. Just bringing up my mom made things awkward. And here I thought I hadn't wanted to deal with it yet. Running Elk shifted his position a bit, and the silence got uncomfortable again.

"Did she know what your dad was before she married him? Or did she find out he was a ... a ... "

Poor Running Elk couldn't even get the word out this time.

"Werewolf," I supplied, trying to suppress my grin. Running Elk was looking uncomfortable enough as it was.

"She knew and loved him anyway," I told him. "Dad always said mom changed who he was and how he looked at life. Kind of a twist on the whole werewolf thing, hmm? Especially considering he changed her."

Another long pause. I lifted my head, trying to get anideaifDad was close. The singing ended a while ago. I wondered if I would see my mom again tonight, or if she had gone back across the River of Life.

"Keeping the name miniature wolf?" my cousin asked.

I had thought about changing my childhood name now that I was an adult. I often felt like there was an important name waiting for me to discover and claim. It wasn't that rare for someone to switch their name as life happened. Key personality traits, some events in your life that separated you from everyone else; many things influenced who you were and who you were becoming. Altering your name was a reflection of that.

I leaned back, a half-smile playing on my lips as I remembered the first argument I had with my dad. I wanted to be my own person, complaining about how I was tired of his strict rules and training. Mom had intervened, placing a gentle hand on both of us.

"Our son is growing, and the man in him wants to come out just as the wolf does, " she had said to Dad. Then Mom turned to me. "You will always need guidance and advice all through your life, no matter how old you get. You will always be my miniature wolf, and I will always be here for you."

I knew Mom got it, that Dad couldn't keep treating me like I was still a kid. As I came into my manhood, I wanted to honor her. I liked the way she had described it, the man wanting to come out. Mom knew I couldn't stay. I wanted her to know how much I appreciated her. I wanted her to know every time she spoke my name, I would never be too old for my mom. It hurt to know she would never speak my name again.

"Mom ... " my voice choked.

It was the only answer I could give Running Elk. It was enough. Running Elk knew the bond between my mom and I was practically tangible. She was the epitome of her name, River Woman. She had been like a deep running river, not some meandering creek. Smooth and gentle, serene, yet she had a deep current that could pull you out of any funk, any tantrum, anything, and make you go with her flow.

And here she was. Kind of. Maybe she was my spirit guide, even if it wasn't the way Grandfather meant. I felt better, relieved, yet at the same time decidedly weirded out by the whole concept of ghost mom.

A wolf howled in the distance- nothing urgent, just someone letting their pack know they found something of interest.

I smiled. "Sounds like our new neighbors might have found a suitable den." I got up and stretched, a prelude to changing my form. "Think I'll go take a look. The other wolves shouldn't bother you now."

Running Elk stayed where he was, not saying anything. I started to alter my body, thought the better of it for a second, and turned back to him.

"We good, Cuz?"

I had to have that reassurance that my human cousin, who was more like a brother to me, still felt that bond between us. He studied me for a moment. His slight smile was a relief.

"Always good, Cuz," he said.

I grinned back and shifted as I do for running; feet first, legs and torso happening so fast, shoulders, focus on front paws hitting the ground. The faster the shift, the less focus on the body as bones and joints readjusted, as muscles stretched and bunched, conforming to their new parameters. The wolf dealt with pain differently than man. A moment later, I had four paws scratching the dirt as I stretched. I paused to look back at Running Elk.

He looked thoughtful. "Still good, Cuz," he said softly.

There was something ... I kept looking at him until I realized what it was. His eyes held new knowledge now, no longer naive. Innocence lost, in a way.

I smiled back, tongue lolling, realizing just how much I loved my cousin. Another short howl had me turning both my ears and my head out of instinct to pick up the most from the sounds. The old silvering grey was inviting his pack to join him in a small hunt.

A glance full of joy and wolfish laughter at my cousin, then I was gone, off to find Dad and hopefully get another glimpse of Mom. I had a desire that wasn't there before; to enjoy what remained of this special, silver-tinged night.