Wolf's Cry

Chapter 7

Rose

A feral howl causes me to jolt awake and I shake off my fatigue. I turn my head in the direction of the voice, and my eyes snap open wide. I quickly and clumsily pick myself up. It's the wolf! I can see not far away a man's running towards it with a gun in hand. I quickly start running over, yelling for the man to stop. I watch as its head finally falls and its lids drop over blue eyes.

Time seems to slow down as I run ever closer, questions swimming through my head. Haven't I seen those eyes before? I feel I'm drawing closer, and something strange starts happening to its body. It flickers, sinking in a stretching out... it seems to change? It wavers between the body of a wolf and of a... human?

My eyes start watering and through the shimmering and flickering I can see a... mustache and greying hair... oh no. My heart seems to break a thousand times over the course of this moment and I run at an impossibly faster rate. The man had ignored me and continued approaching with his gun trained downward. "Stop!" I crash into his side and grab the gun, throwing it far into the forest. The man stands up and shouts, but at my panicked disposition and blatant indifference to his complains, he leaves to go fetch his gun, throwing a worried glance behind his shoulder.

I drop to my knees, afraid to touch the wolf. "G-grandpa?" I whisper, tears trickling down my cheeks. He seems to be unconscious, but still rolls over to me groaning, eyes still closed. I stay there, frozen for a mere dozen seconds, and then his form stops wavering... still in the body of a wolf.

"Oh no." The reality settles dreadfully inside my stomach, and I whimper. "Let's... Take you home. You'll feel better in a couple of hours, a day at most." I take grandpa in my arms and carry him into the cottage.

I lay him on the sofa and examine his leg. Thankfully the bone seems to be slowly mending already, and he'll surely live. I use the medical kit in the cupboard to remove the bullet and then wrap his leg with a gauze and bandages. I sit next to him on the couch when done, running my hand through his fur, processing the recent events.

The last only time I had seen my grandfather before was on my seventh birthday. That was a long time ago, yet how did I not know? When I was outside I could see his lack of ears, and had I looked closer maybe I would have seen cauterized skin, maybe a scar. I should have known, or at least been warned. I sink further into the couch and yawn.

Grandpa is okay, and grandma is out in the village. I make myself more comfortable, careful not to hurt grandpa. I close my eyes and start drifting off.... But something feels off. A detail slipping just out of reach. I yawn again, quite tired.

The door!