The Bone Chapel

Communication

I spent much of the next half hour watching the artful dance of dominance around the picnic tables. At first I thought families were simply sitting in the spots they'd grown attached to. It was a phenomenon I'd noticed when I was younger. My parents took my brother and I to church almost every week and, though no one defined where anyone should specifically sit, everyone returned to the same spots on the same pews week after week.

I figured there must be something particularly pleasing or familiar about those spots for those people. And maybe there was, but that didn't excuse the scowls regulars would wear on their faces whenever a newcomer unknowingly sat in "their" seat. As I watched the wolves find their place settings by order of rank, I started to wonder if there was actually a little bit of werewolf in everyone. Or was the territorial nature of those I observed actually something uniquely human? Did wolves in the wild really follow such firm social constructs? Or was that something the human aspect of a werewolf contributed to their society?

"Honestly, I think it's human," said Everett as he settled into the worn groove at the middle of the long wooden bench. "Wolves have hierarchy, but more in a familial sense, I think. We try to hold to that here, but we also can't deny our humanity. And humans, they like structure."

"How clear are my thoughts to you?" I asked in a low voice. I crossed my arms over my chest and kept my eyes to my plate. Was I mad he could hear my inner monologue or grateful for his polite conversation?

"Hmm, it depends. I can sense when you want space. In those situations, I treat any stray thoughts and feelings as white noise. I don't pay them any attention and even if I did, you naturally make them harder to read. When you don't care about secrecy around your thoughts, they come in fairly clearly. Usually I get the gist of what you're thinking. However, when you want to talk to me directly, well it can be like you're saying the words with your lips. Isn't that what it's like for you when I talk to you in wolf form?"

"I suppose so," I answered, pausing as I shuffled slightly to allow Sadie more room to take her seat next to me. I glanced past Everett and spotted Luc to her alpha's left, though a surprisingly large gap remained between the two of them. "When you talk to me like that, I just kind of know what you're saying. It's weird, really. Now that I try to put it into words, I can't recall whether I heard the words or felt them."

"It's a connection that none of us fully understand. On one hand, we're of course related to wolves. As such, we can communicate through scent just like our lupine brethren. It's something our brains just know how to read. The question is, are these chemical messages being translated into words by our minds or is there something magical in our blood that gives us an additional mental link. As someone who isn't fully wolf, I'm very interested to hear how you interpret your communication with me and..." He trailed off, his face slackening and his eyes focusing behind me. As for me, my blood boiled. I doubted he intended it, but we were granted a ripe opportunity to witness my abilities.

"I understood that message just fine," I growled. "I felt the panic. I heard the curses you set upon yourself. And I know who is walking to the table without even looking."

"So you read chemical signals as well as receive mental dictation," he said, swallowing hard as his lips attempted to smile. "It's been a busy day," he continued in a small voice. "I didn't think to mention that..."

"These things are second nature to us, please don't blame him for forgetting I sit here."

The source of Everett's panic and my discomfort took her seat between the alpha and his beta. It'd been over a month since I'd seen the muscular young woman with long, sandy hair. I knew I couldn't avoid her forever, but I would have preferred some warning before having that confrontation.