War of the Wolves

Chapter 7

                           The morning came too quickly for my liking, but the text that I awoke to made it worth it.

 Good morning beautiful. I promise I don’t normally wake up this early; I have football practice in a few minutes. I just wanted to say that I hope you have a good day. How about I pick you up tonight and take you out for dinner? My treat, of course ;)

See you soon,

Alex.

                          

                           A wide grin plastered itself on my face, and I stood up to put on pants and to get dressed. I shoved my hair into a sloppy bun and put on a UGA sweatshirt that used to belong to my mother. I walked down the stairs slowly, and groaned when I saw the clock in the living room that told me it was only 7 o’clock in the morning on a Saturday.

“Dad, what are we doing?”  I asked groggily as he started to pack hiking gear into a medium sized track bag.

“I’m taking you out into the woods to study more about your history.” He answered happily.

                           I groaned and followed him outside.

“Why can’t we just do this all inside?” I sighed.

“Because it’s nice outside, and we may need some space.”

“Space for what?”

“Shifting.”

                           I rolled my eyes. There was absolutely no way that I would try shifting again. It was obvious that I couldn’t do it. Nevertheless, I followed swiftly behind my dad as he walked deeper and deeper into the woods that just happened to make up our backyard.

                           After a while of walking, we came up to the lake. I remembered seeing it the day I had explored through our land. I realized that this was probably the lake where my mom and her keeper died so many years ago. I closed my eyes and breathed the fresh air into my lungs.

“I've noticed that you have been reading the books about wolves lately, so I decided that I should take the day to teach you some things. Normally, your keeper would do this, but he hasn't really come out to you yet, so he can’t. Just make sure that whenever you can, you have someone around you to watch your back when you shift. Changing is your most vulnerable point. The damage is nearly inevitable. If you’re so much as touched while you’re changing, you could shatter your bones,” Dad stated.

“Okay,” I started, sitting on the dock, facing away from the lake to look at my father, “Go ahead.”

“Well,” he began to speak, taking a seat across from me, “I have already told you about the white, but I want to shed a little more light on the subject. As you probably saw in the books, everybody who is the white shared the same last name. I’m not sure if you figured it out, but being the white or the black is kind of a trait that is passed on through families. Which means…”