Turning eighteen is a significant milestone not only for humans, but also for wolves. But for them, it is certainly more severe change in age. Carys gets to experience it on her own skin, starting with the compulsory participation in the Mate Harves...
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The little green ball rolls a little forward and then slightly back as it stops, its bumpy shape making its movements unpredictable. I give it another small push and it goes round again, this time stopped by a grain of rice. I move the rice aside with the tip of my fork and then swing it against the pea, watching it clumsily move along the plate.
"What do you think, Carys?" my mother's voice reaches my bubble.
"Hm?" I raise my head questioningly and give it a shake. "I'm sorry, I was lost in thoughts."
"I said that Belen had invited us over after dinner," she repeats. "Your dad has some late work with Tegan, so she thought we could do a little girl night." Her lips rise up in a tempting smile.
I force a weak one back. "That sounds great." I return my gaze to the fork that I run through the sticky rice, burying the pea underneath it.
My mother sighs. "Carys," she says wearily and as her smile fades, it reveals her true careworn state. "Honey, look. I know there's been a lot going on, with your first Harvest and now all this," she waves with her hand around. "I get it can be overwhelming. And I'm trying to be understanding. But," she glances at my plate ruefully,"you're hardly even eating anymore."
I look down at the untouched risotto on my plate and frown. "That's, that's not..." I sigh, tired even to think of an answer. I end up at, "I just don't like the mushrooms."
My mother pursues her lips in a line but doesn't fight it. She checks the old watch on her wrist instead, a little impatient, and looks around the spacious room full of dark wood and tall windows, giving the pack house a beautiful view of the forest with a lake glistening among the distant trees.
"I can be alone for two minutes, you know," I tell her. "I really doubt they're going to kill me in the middle of the crowded dining room."
My mother gives me a look that tells me she doesn't appreciate the humor. "You know the rules."
"I do. And I know the duties." I raise my eyebrows at her.
We might be supposed to stay in groups, but it's almost time for her assigned tasks. And none of our wolves wants to give the other pack even the slightest hint of a bad impression. Ever since our arrival a few days ago, they've been all acting like model wolves, including my parents. It's ridiculous. But I know it's also highly important for them.
I let out a long sigh. "Mom," I make her look at me, "you should go, really. Leia should be here any moment, I'll be fine. Don't worry."
She examines the sincere look I give her while considering my words. She's conflicted, but after she checks her watch again and then the room full of people, she finally nods. "Don't move from here," she says pointedly, pining me to the chair with her eyes.
"Where would I go," I whisper to myself as I'm watching her put her plate away and leave. Only then I dare to take a look around, too.
I feel them, all days long. Silent stares, brief looks, timid glances. They turn away when they are met with my eyes, but eventually, they crawl back. Sometimes it feels like we are in a zoo with a question across the ticket, Are you a visitor or an animal? The invisible wall between our packs makes it impossible for us to hear each other and I have to wonder if it is only this barrier that keeps us apart. Maybe we can't hear a thing because no one's talking.
