Odin's Prize

Something New

Slat grey clouds are becoming more menacing, darkening from the sinking sun that cast the trees in shadows that lean towards the East.

The encroaching dusk making my steps become double time trying to outrun the setting sun with Odin by my side.

"What's the matter Charlie afraid of the dark?" Odin's voice is drifting along the side of me before his hand halts my progress forward.

"No, I have to be home before the sun sets or else my mom worries about me." Saying this quickly, trying to get out of his hold, pulling away with my heels digging into the earth trying to create momentum to break the grip.

Just noticing now, that his light grey shirt is sticking to his body from the blood he's losing. The wound not closing up, the blood trail creating a path down his chest that is soaking into the waistband of his jeans.

"You should put that medicine on your wound." Angling my words up to his face, it's now that he looks down at himself touching the injury lightly before wiping his bloody fingertips on his jeans.

Reaching behind his head with one hand, he pulls up and off his shirt, wiping his blood off the carved muscles of his chest that extend down his torso. He's lean but powerful, his body still shifting from juvenile to adult, he'll be filling out soon. His full adult male strength will be coming. He's got tattoos that are in varying stages of coloring and sketching of outline animals.

Holding the material to his wound briefly before opening the jar that holds the ointment inside it. Applying a very tiny amount to the deep knife wound that just is underneath his clavicle, it looks like it might have nicked bone. A small hiss escapes his mouth as the salve is applied to the area which instantly stops the flow of blood.

Odin looks at my face, "did that hurt you when that medicine went on your skin?" His face holding some pain that he's trying hard not to show, not from the knife wound but from the medicine that is now cauterizing the wound shut.

"No, it tingled, but it didn't hurt." He's looking at me as if he doesn't believe me.

"To me, it feels burning cold. I haven't felt this ice heat since my trails."

"Trials?" Not understanding what he means.

"In our pack just before you shift, in the worst of winter, all pre-juvenile males are set out deep into the territory, with the expectation you are to survive until summer."

"Why would your pack do that?" A revulsion for that practice can't be hidden on my face.

"Only the strongest comeback, the ones that are weak are weeded out by nature." He's telling me this like that's a normal thing to him.

"Well, we don't do that in my pack." Saying this to him with the disgust I feel.

"I can tell." His voice just spits it out as if his words are falling at my feet.

"I need to get home." Turning from him walking away, I don't like the way he's putting down my pack.

"I'm walking you back to your house. I'm making sure that you get to the door safe." He's looking at me in the eyes now, while I look right back at him without flinching.

A little lift of lip at the corner of his mouth can almost be mistaken for a start of a smile.

"I'm fine; I don't need you to walk me home. I'm not a little puppy that needs someone to watch over her." Huffing out the last statement with a stronger voice. My words lift the other side of his mouth that now is a full smile that makes his eyes look like green mint leaves.