This week’s story prompt brings us back to my family’s second ever camping trip. At that point we knew next to nothing — pitching the tent was still an achievement. We’d picked a lovely campsite in the North of England about 100 metres from a beach. Delightful. Until the next morning when we’d accumulated what felt like 50 litres of dew. Lesson learned, camping is now a distinctly inland pursuit for us.
Before we woke up damp we were treated to an unobstructed view of a beautiful full moon. Apologies for the less than stellar photo. In my defence it was hand-held with a not exactly fast lens. One day the opportunity will present itself and I’ll have another go.
At the time we weren’t bold enough to camp in October, so the photo is most definitely not an actual hunter’s moon. Let’s not let the truth get in the way of a tale though…
The howl carried clear across the stubble-cropped fields making my skin prickle in anticipation. My sisters and brothers of the pack always made the change before me. That was proper, of course. In my place as the pack omega my job was to bring up the rear. My packmates could learn from my mistakes. Stem their boldness through witnessing my blunders. Observe the cost of undue caution. Mine were the faults by which the pack ran true.
To my left another howl rose to chorus with the first. That would be Jack. He was always in a hurry to join the hunt. I recognised Emily’s cry instantly as it lifted to meld with the first two. She was my best friend in the world, both with the pack and at school. That friendship cost her in both realms. At school I was the outsider. A Glaswegian among a bunch of Fifers. Within the pack I was the bottom of the heap. Either way associating with me ruined any status she might have otherwise found. She claimed not to mind, bless her, but I can’t see how. It seemed to me that being friend to the omega was worse than actually being omega. My legendarily poor judgement served a purpose. Emily’s made her look weak in the eyes of the pack.
I could see the moon’s rich yellow glow through the trees on the crest of the hill behind my house. Three more voices joined the lupine choir. With the gloaming my senses heightened. The night air brought the scent of deer to my nose. My ears were quick to catch up, snagging the sounds of movement in the thicket over the deserted country road.
Another pair of voices howled their unfettered joy into the skies. Olivia and Sophia, the twins. Just Alex, our alpha to go. And me, obviously.
The moon cleared the trees at last bathing me in its borrowed light. The change was upon me at last! Goosebumps lifted hairs which thickened and lengthened. My face stretched baring sharp white teeth ready to tear fresh meat. Hands that were now paws met the ground at a run. My sense of smell, heightened before, shifted into overdrive bringing the deer so close I could taste it.
I checked both ways before dashing across the road. Whatever those stupid stories claim, my mind was my own. Neither wolf nor boy but both at once. Human intellect and wolfish cunning. My paws met the soft earth of the field. Ten paces further and I was in the forest.
I could tell my quarry had not yet heard me. Perhaps this night would bring gory glory. Then again, perhaps my pack would once again learn from my blunders. It mattered little. I swerved to the left, putting the deer between me and the rest of the pack and raised my voice in a howl declaring that the hunt was on. The Werewolves of the East Neuk ran free. We would taste blood that night.
Brandon Lim 