(temporary cover)
Once Upon a Wolf - A First Shifters Story
(Former working title "Hawk's Spirit")
(Spirit's name has been changed to Ghost)
Unedited excerpt
This
was the first winter Hawk spent by himself. Thankfully it had been a mild one.
He had brought as many supplies with him as he could when he came to the cabin
three months earlier. Even so, sooner or later he was going to have to consider
venturing back into that small town at the bottom of the mountain, the town he
came from, to buy more. Even though doing something like that might be a death
sentence.
But
meat, he had been under the belief, he could provide for himself.
Not
that he was a great hunter. Quite the opposite. At least that was what his old
man had said countless times and to anyone who would listen.
“That kid got no aim. No aim at all. Totally
worthless piece of shit, that boy.”
No,
March Grayson was not proud of his son in any form, shape or matter. And that
was even before the man learned Hawk had no attraction to women. Prior to that,
Hawk could count on getting a beating for every tiny infraction, of which were countless.
A good number of those infringements were unavoidable. As in how much work Hawk
could possibly get done all by himself in the morning before March got up. In
most cases, if all the chores were not complete, if there was anything left for
March at all, Hawk could count on receiving some bruises. And Hawk learned early
on, he only got a worse beating if he outran the old man, which was easy to do,
since the only real physical activity March got was kicking Hawk’s ass.
Then
there was March’s craziness.
“Milk the oldest cow first, idiot. How
stupid can you be?”
When Hawk
attempted to avoid March's wrath by complying, March changed his mind.
“Why the fuck you milking that old cow first
for? You don’t fucking listen to me, boy!”
But,
of course, it never mattered that he would follow the old man’s insane
directions or not. There were always problems. From too much rain, or too
little, to it being too cold in the house, to the missing chicken leg out of
the icebox that March himself ate in a drunken haze, somehow it was always Hawk’s
fault.
“You’re too fucking stupid, boy. You got shit
for brains.”
“Came from you, didn’t I? I am your fucking
son, after all!”
However,
talking back earned him not only a beating. The old fucker cut his meals off
for two solid days. According to his father he was an ungrateful son of a bitch
and he was damn lucky he didn’t sell Hawk’s sorry ass into slavery.
But
after his father caught him canoodling with a neighbor boy, his father’s word,
not Hawk’s, the old fart couldn’t even look at Hawk much less touch him.
Which
was just fine with him.
Hawk
moved out after that, finding sanctuary with Tom Meyer, the man who owned the
feed mill. He worked his ass off for old man Meyer for room and board, living
above the mill in a tiny, dusty room. Thankfully the fact he was “not right in
the head” didn’t follow him since his father had a reputation to uphold. How do
you explain your one and only son turning evil and immoral? He might just lose
his status down at the local bar if anyone important found out the truth. Hell,
they might think March, himself, was something unnatural. The asshole wasn’t
too happy with the fact Hawk was no longer free labor or a handy punching bag.
But evidently that was easier to explain to his drinking partners than taking
the risk of having something sinful and sick lurking under his roof.
Again,
just fine with Hawk. As fucked up as his life had been, he had no love for the
man who had once claimed him as son.
A man
who was dead and gone now. Murdered, some might say.
Hawk
shivered.
Water
under the bridge.
Hawk
stoked the fire in the outdoor fire pit. He had skinned, gutted and skewered
the rabbits and was slowly roasting them, allowing the aroma to spread far and
wide. He knew that was probably unwise as well, attracting far more sinister
creatures than Hawk was prepared for. But other than that morning, he hadn’t
caught sight of Ghost all day. He found he was missing the big animal’s
company. Plus, Hawk was hoping to share the gift.
Suddenly
he heard a rustling noise in the woods to his left near the cabin. He rose to
his feet expecting Ghost to come padding into the clearing, but it wasn’t the wolf.
Instead it was a very large grizzly.
“Oh no,” Hawk whispered regretting he had not
been more cautious. The second he thought about the fact he might have been
doing something less than intelligent, like personally inviting a monster bear
to dinner, he should have brought his gun closer. Right now, his rifle was
laying up against the wall near the front door, about twenty feet away. Hawk
knew that if he dashed for it, the bear would attack. But it appeared like he
wasn’t going to have much of a choice since the bear knew exactly where he
needed to come in order to consume the meal it had smelled, and now it had
spotted Hawk. This early in the season the bear had to be a male; probably just
out of hibernation and hungry. The problem was, the rabbits would only whet its
appetite. In fact, the bear most likely wasn’t even thinking about rabbits for
dinner anymore.
Because
Hawk was now on the menu.
As
the bear lumbered quickly toward him, Hawk began to step back. He knew he would
never make it to his gun since he had to run toward the bear to get it, but it
was his only hope.
Unexpectedly,
Ghost burst from the forest with a terrifying howl, leaped to the back of the bear,
and ferociously bit into the bear’s neck. As shocked as Hawk was, he realized
he now had time to get to his gun. He turned from the fight just as he saw the
bear pitch itself around, flipping Ghost with him. Hawk grabbed his weapon
and whipped around, Ghost now underneath the bear, a large paw holding him to
the ground. The bear’s enormous jaws had opened and were descending on the
wolf.
Even
knowing his poor accuracy record, Hawk still aimed and shot toward the bear,
hoping to frighten it away at best and gain its attention at least.
But the
bear scarcely glanced at Hawk, too caught up in dealing out death to Hawk’s
precious Ghost. However, the blast made it hesitate, and in that instant, Ghost
was somehow able to fight off the huge paw that held him down. On his feet, Ghost
put himself in-between the bear and Hawk, once again lunging for the neck of
the animal. It was almost as if Ghost’s intent was to protect him. But even a
wolf the size of Ghost could not possibly hold off that gigantic and hungry of
a bear. And in answer to Hawk’s frantic thought, the grizzly twisted its body
and threw a thick arm around Ghost’s middle. Pulling tight, it knocked the air
right out of Ghost, making him vulnerable again to the bear’s powerful jaws.
Hawk
had only one more second to save his friend.
Running
closer as he leveled his gun, this time aiming for the grizzly’s head, Hawk
squeezed off another round. But instead of the fatal shot he had hoped for,
Hawk missed and only ripped an ear.
Thankfully,
it was enough.
The
bear let out a pained roar and gave up the fight. It lumbered off into the
black forest, bellowing its agony.
Hawk
ran for Ghost who dropped to the ground.
“Ghost!
Ghost, are you all right?”
He
was bleeding in several places but none of them appeared life threatening.
Still, Hawk needed to get him to safety. The bear sounded like it had scurried up
the mountain but there was no guarantee it would stay gone.
Hawk gazed
into those beautiful eyes that seemed to understand Hawk was trying to help
him. “I’m going to get you inside the cabin,” he announced. Ghost huffed and
closed his golden eyes. Hawk smiled as he removed his coat and spread it on the
ground. Next, he moved Ghost as gently as he could to rest on top of it.
“You’re too big for me to carry. But I think I can pull you. Try not to move
too much.”
It
took only a few minutes to get Ghost safely inside the cabin and near the crackling
fireplace. Hawk added more wood to brighten the darkness, so he could better
assess the wounds. Surprisingly, the bleeding had all but stopped, as if the
wolf had called upon some magic healing power. Hawk still cleaned the cuts and
scratches gently and thoroughly, though, marveling that Ghost allowed it even
after Hawk knew there were at least a few times his ministrations had to be
painful. After wrapping the worst of the wounds, Hawk sat back. “There. Good as
new,” Hawk declared into the quiet of the cabin. Once again Ghost huffed but
stayed still.
“Want
something to eat? We still got those rabbits you caught cooking over the fire. I
suppose it’s what brought the bear.” Ghost whined at that. Hawk chuckled.
“Yeah, not the smartest thing I’ve done. Rabbits may be more than well done,
too, at this point, but still edible.” Hawk waited as if the wolf would answer.
Then, not even receiving a “huff” Hawk rose and headed back outside to grab the
skewer of meat. When he returned to the fireplace the wolf had sat up as if he
indeed had understood. Hawk smiled as he grabbed a large plate from the kitchen
and sat on the floor in front of Ghost, setting the steaming rabbits on the
plate to cool. After a couple of minutes, he tore off a portion of one and
handed it to Ghost.
Ghost
gazed at him with what could only be thankfulness in those eyes. He cocked his
head, then nosed the meat back at Hawk as if saying Hawk needed to take the
first bite. In wonder, Hawk did just that. He bit off a morsel into his mouth then
once again held the piece toward the wolf. This time Ghost took it, gently,
from Hawk’s hand, gulping it down, as Hank pulled another portion of the meat
from the skewer. With every piece Hawk took, he offered another to the wolf.
Finally, full and content, Hawk gave the rest over to the wolf.
“I’m
full. Thank you for providing the meal. Thank you, also, for sharing it with
me.”
The
wolf glanced up at Hawk and damn, if there wasn’t that smile again.
