You Make Me... // Wenclair

The Hunt

"Remember, we do this hunt not to terrorise or to kill for the sake of killing. We do this for food, training and survival. And do not let a normie see you. Do not hunt them, do not go near their town. This is survival," Enid's father announces, standing before the pack. 

It's the morning after the feast now. The sun hasn't risen yet and it isn't due to for another few hours. The full moon is still present in the sky, threatening to turn the wolves at any moment. Though, for now, they remain in their human forms, thanks to the crystal held on a podium next to Enid's father.

Wednesday is on the fringes of the group, next to Enid who is listening eagerly. Wednesday knows she's heard this all before, probably ever since she was born. But the way she's bouncing on her toes and clasping her hands in front of her chest, her eyes shiny, shows even Wednesday just how excited she is to finally have the speech apply to her.

At the front of the pack, Enid's mother steps forward, towards an intricately decorated glass case. She picks it up and places it over the crystal. As soon as it is fixed on the podium the people around Wednesday begin to change. A few of the older wolves resist their change, needing to stay behind from the hunt to care for the smaller children who haven't yet changed.

Next to Wednesday, Enid starts her transformation. Her arm and leg hair quickly sprouts, and her nose begins to take on a more snout-like form. 

"Wednesday," she says, her voice already sounding a little more snarly. "You need to head to the ones staying behind. You can't be around us when we're all changed. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

Wednesday nods sharply, wishing she could join the hunt instead of being babysat. Though, aside from it being unsafe, it's not like she could ever keep up with the pack. Not to mention, the sights would likely be ghastly, not that that really bothered Wednesday. It couldn't be much worse than what she'd seen the hyde do. 

She wanders over to the babysitters as Enid's dad makes his final announcement, "We will meet you all back here in two hours. Do not be seen, stay far from the town, and those who are new additions to our wonderful tradition, please stick with your mentor." He launches into the air, his transformation completing. While in mid-air he twists so he is now facing away from the pack and as soon as his paws hit the forest floor he is running, the rest of the pack following. 

Enid's mother waits for her to catch up. Wednesday knows that she's her friend's mentor for the hunt. She's excited to hear all the gory details later, but in the meantime, she is comforted to know her best friend will be protected and guaranteed to come home in one piece.

She watches the rest of the pack splinter off in all directions, hearing a displaced howl every so often. She glances towards the babysitting group but they've already started heading inside, twattling about checking on the babies asleep in the meeting house and making cups of coffee to get them through the next few hours. None of them even pay attention to Wednesday, seemingly having already forgotten that they have an outside present.

Taking the opportunity, Wednesday slips down the side of the house out of sight. Even if Enid told her to stick around and wait for her to return, Wednesday can't resist sniffing around for an adventure. Plus, why would she hang around with overly friendly strangers and crying babies when she could instead explore the dark woods surrounding the estate? 

She wanders through the trees, using her pocket knife to make little notches in the trees. Enid would kill her if she got lost.

Not far out from where she started, she finds a quaint little graveyard. It's too dark to read any of the names, but presumably, these are all pack ancestors. Despite the trees around the little plot being full of leaves and the ground only having a light dusting, the fenced-off section has a build-up of twigs and old leaves. It's grungy and damp and the only light on it is the moon and a solitary light in the corner that is being attacked by a hoard of moths.