Wolf Song (2)

I wished I had a way to carry my phone so I could capture the look of fear and confusion on Running Elk's face.

A low growl had me spinning around, hackles raised. I placed myself squarely in front of my human cousin. The light grey timber-wolf facing me was showing teeth and hanging low, testing boundaries.

I became aware of the rest of the invading pack circling us. My cousin cussed and stepped closer to the short wall of dirt behind him. Two more males, both darker grey than the leader, and a rarer russet-colored female ranged nearby. The old silver I had glimpsed earlier was off to the side and above them. And, there, the sixth timber wolf, a female about to have a litter, hung back behind her mate.

This pack was challenging for den territory. They wouldn't understand that my dad and I didn't care about the region as they did. My unwanted opponent growled again, stepping forward. My shoulder blades tingled as my hackles rose. I snarled back at my adversary.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my cousin carefully reaching down to grab a fallen tree limb; his eyes focused on the showdown before him.

My confrontation with the strange wolf was interrupted by a sing-song howl reverberating through the forest. I felt the echo of it against my very bones. This wolf-song came from a place beyond what mere distance accounted for. It started as the new wolf announced its presence, transforming into an invitation for others to join in. The howl drew out into a song appreciating the silver-tinged night before fading into an anticipating silence.

I was shocked when Dad's voice, devoid of grief, let loose from the rise above me. Dad's song repeated the refrain of the beautiful moon-lit night, adding the accompanying sound of the rushing water from the nearby river, and the scent trails of our present company mixed with the familiar scents of family.

There was a pause before the old silver wolf added his voice. There were many years of experience embedded in the old wolf's long, undulating howl.

I looked at my antagonist, who seemed equally unsure about what to do next. Both of us stepped away from each other as mist in the form of a wolf slid in between us. Silver, but not with age, she ghosted up to me.

My fur stood on end as if I was being overwhelmed with static. The voice of the ethereal wolf sounded again, even as its ghostly form blurred slightly, flowing upward, re-forming into the image of my mother as I remembered her from my childhood.

miniature wolf …

Her voice called my name, though the sound didn't touch my ears. I didn't even think as I howled out my wolf-song, expressing my sudden joy and love as fingers made of silver light moved through my fur. The change from wolf to man began to roll through me, muscles stretching and joints adjusting, just enough to stand on two legs, my body still covered in fur. I couldn't control my excitement as my mostly human arms moved to embrace her. I grinned awkwardly when I realized how foolish trying to hug my mom's ghostly image was. My body shifted back to four legs, copying her flowing form. Our voices joined once more in the deepening night, my dad's song making it complete.

There was a pause, and the pregnant she-wolf came up next to her mate. The soon-to-be daddy wolf hesitantly raised his voice, his song strengthening as his mate's notes coupled with his. There was another lull, a comfortable warmth in which I moved up against Running Elk's leg, wanting to be close to family. I gave my human cousin another wolfish grin, taking in his unease.

Dad's voice began the next chorus from the rise above me. The ethereal wolf moved in that direction as her ghostly song filled the night once more. As tempted as I was to follow, I couldn't abandon Running Elk.

The other pack, deciding there would be no fight, added to the moonlit melody. After a while, they drifted away, leaving me with my cousin. I lifted my head as the first step in turning back to a man. The elders' injunction against changing in front of others made me hesitate.

"Miniature wolf, you must always be aware of who might see you," my grandfather often scolded me, even in the privacy of my family's living room. In the whole tribe, only the elders knew about my parents and me being werewolves, and the elders wanted to keep it that way. My cousin might not have recognized me through the fur I maintained when I had shifted upright.

After this night and seeing my mother, what the heck, he's bound to put two and two together, I decided. I shifted completely, rising to two legs, becoming fully human. Slowly, I reached out to put a hand on Running Elk's shoulder. I could hear my cousin's heart beating furiously as I gently pulled the thick piece of deadwood from his slackening grasp.

"Looks like we both met our spirit animal tonight, cuz," I nervously joked. Somehow I didn't think my mother's ghost qualified for the spirit guide my cousin had come out to find.

My spirit filled with a profound sense of family as I continued to smile at my near-panicking cousin. I found peace in the ever-deepening night concerning my mother's death. The memory of her blood staining this spot where the cougar had attacked her, her hand feebly reaching out for mine, was replaced with silver fingers ruffling my fur. The sound of her air-piercing screams that had rung in my ears for the past year was drowned out by the song I shared with my parents tonight.

I looked out into the now-quiet, moonlit forest, concerned about my dad and wondering about my mom,before turning back to my freaked-out cousin. Mom was where she would always be, and Dad would have to wait. Running Elk needed me right now.