My Alpha and His Companion
watched the rain from my bedroom window before being called down for lunch. The raindrops streamed down the glass, and I tried to find meaning in the drawing. Part of me is always looking for answers in everything, waiting for the universe to give me clari
e feeling that the forest
like this. In my human form, there is a weird feeling in my stomach. The animals watch me like this, and I think it is because they believe me to be trespassing. In my more
to a small stream. Weeds and grass grow out of the clear, cold water and dance like they do not have a care in the world. My
mple-minded child. Grandmother tells me not to cross the stream, so I do not. But I want to. I really do. The curiosity burns my soul, and you may think I am dramatic-which I am-but I walk here a
tters to me, her voi
g my eyes at the stream's edge. I know that
e. My wolf usually has something sarcastic to
All I want to do is go home. It
house. One day I will cross over, and I will find out what is on the other side. Even if i
ng to darken, twilight bleeding into the horizon. It paints the world in purples and grays, and the forest shifts around me with it. T
alked these paths for years-before my first shift, before I e
poetic again,
ack. Let me h
't argue
ill ten years old and afraid of the dark. Maybe I still am, a little. Not the physical dark, not the kind that comes with nightfall, but the kind that creeps i
nge how something so small can hold such mystery. There's no magic mist floating above it, no mystical glow. Just clea
und like a portal,
e it
ridic
fun, I snap ba
kes me pause. My heart jumps-too much, really. But it's only a deer, lifti
ng for me to shift, to drop the human facade and be who I truly am. But I can't, not here, not
w," I whisper to the
d bounds off into the trees
mments. Maybe she feels it too-this strange tension, like so
eets me as I open the door. Warmth spills out, wrapping around me like a thick blanket. Inside,
and lean against it for a
trail again. And maybe then,
t o
to