Winter Wolf

Part 3

An hour later Axton was back in his own cabin and gently bewildered about where the time had gone. Small talk had never been a strength of his, even long ago, when he'd still had a pack and known people with things in common. How had he managed to spend not merely minutes, but well over an hour, in casual conversation with Leander? Axton ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth thoughtfully, marveling at the coffee taste that lingered there.

Very strange. He'd best not get used to it. Leander was just trying to be friendly. Once he had his lay of the land, he'd probably never speak to Axton again.

Right. No reason to get attached. No reason to want to lie down and be still when he heard his name from those lips. Attachment was hard on werewolves. Best to avoid it if at all possible. Yes.

Axton yawned, padded across the room, and curled up in his bed.

Socializing was exhausting.

++

Axton didn't wake until sunset, when he rolled out of bed and immediately into a stretch as he yawned. He landed on four paws instead of two feet, having changed in his sleep. That explained the long nap, then--his wolf body slept more deeply than his human one, and always woke up for sunrise and sunset, just as wolves should.

If he'd still been in his human form, he would have been annoyed at the loss of most of a day, but as a wolf he had no room for that kind of useless stress. Mostly he was hungry, and he was restless with the need for a good run to stretch his legs. Licking his lips, Axton took inventory of himself: he felt the aforementioned restlessness, which was normal, and slightly on edge about something, which was not.

What was it? Axton paced around his small one room cabin. He sniffed the corners of his house, followed trails of his own walking across the floor, and pushed his nose into the pile of clothes he'd slipped out of as he changed. Ah, there. Yes. The faintest smell of cabin-that-was-not-his-cabin, of coffee steam. He was going hiking with Leander tomorrow.

Hiking! Walking without running, covering distance without hunting. What was the point?

Still. Axton stood very quietly in his room, bright eyed and ready, tail flicking back and forth. A day, a whole day with Leander. Why had he agreed? An hour had been tiring enough, as he should have known it would be.

Regardless. He'd just run a little harder to work out the nerves. For the wolf in him, that was always the solution.

Axton walked to his Dutch door, and pawed open the top half so that he could leap through. He trotted out into his woods, and didn't look back.

++

Though he ran himself to exhaustion, until he flopped out on the grass with his great red tongue lolling out of his mouth, joyous and free, Axton made it back home with time to sleep for a couple of hours. It would have to do. Obediently, his body woke up at dawn. He did breathing exercises until he could return to his human shape, and waited.

And waited.

Irresistibly and by degrees, in his human body and on an almost human schedule, Axton slipped off to sleep...

++

The next time Axton rolled out of bed, it was because there was an insistent knocking that shocked him awake. As planned, he had not changed shape, and so instead landed on the floor on his very human shoulder and hip. Grunting softly in annoyance, he pushed himself upright, grumbling all the while. God, he hated what passed for mornings in human-time. He felt sluggish and hung over and three different shades of overslept, and he staggered towards his door without any of his usual grace.