Call of Wild Wolves

Wild Woman and Wild Daughter

*Brynn*

Two days after that first night, the hunting party had still not shown anything for their efforts. Trevor has set up many snares for rabbits and other small animals, but so far no one has been touched. Cormac, Trevor, and Vesta had been observing the area in search of animal signs, but they returned to the camp no wiser than to leave it.

Maeve and Brynn, however, were largely left to 'guard the camp' - an order that left Brynn rolling his eyes in frustration. All they have to do is get out and out of trouble.

It didn't take long for this realization to reach Brynn about the truth of their position here. It is no wonder that Cormacs hate the fact that they have been included. He thought he was frustrated at having two younger, less experienced hunters in the mix.

Instead, he saw the situation as losing two of his party members at once and instead obtaining two enormous luggage. Cormac's idea of making the most of the situation was to set aside the baggage to be stored in a place that would not trip anyone.

Maeve doesn't seem to mind. He was quite happy to be in the forest with the others. Brynn must have been angry with the situation, and when he could have relaxed enough to think about it, he was angry. He was truly grateful to be there in any capacity, but he wanted to explore. However, most of his mental energy was spent between two feelings that he could not explain.

The first was the inexplicable pull he had always felt. Sensations have grown and changed over the course of their journey into something less metaphorical and more physically real. There was a longing deep within his bones that made his entire body feel tense. He felt like a tightly coiled spring, ready at all times for the sweet release that would launch him into his original form.

And then there's another feeling. That the eyes were staring at him again. He had told the others what he had seen that night, but no one took him seriously. Cormac looked at him with disdain, and Trevor laughed.

“Eyes shine in the dark, eh? Is that a ghost?" he sneered. “If there is a predator as big as you say it is as close as you say, you will die. Simple as that. And don't you think one of us will see it too? You shouldn't be here if you're afraid of the dark, Girly.”

As soon as he finally walked back to the camp, the huge frown Garan was wearing completely changed his handsome face.

"Your imagination is charming but childish," Garan said coldly while chuckling. “The best, hold it.”

Nothing soothes the sting of wounded self-confidence like ruining another. Especially the one who hurt you from the start. Brynn tried not to put his words into his heart, but he found them resonating in his head.

From that moment on, he felt it. That thing with shining eyes. He didn't see her again, but he felt it. Or maybe it's in his head – just fantasy monsters in the dark. Maybe he's childish. He constantly wrestles between conflicting feelings about the issue; back and forth between the anger of being pushed aside and treated like a fool, and the shame that he is actually a fool.

There were times when he felt so sure it was there, lurking somewhere beyond his sight range, that it took a lot of restraint not to walk into the forest to find it. It comes and goes like a summer storm - there is one minute and goes the next. That doesn't make any sense. So he tried to ignore it.

On the third night in their main camp, they all sat around the fire trying not to think about the food they did not eat. Not adding anything to their food store, they rationed the food they brought rather badly. The light of fire danced on their faces as they sat on the uprooted wooden trunk set around the ring of fire. They sipped pine needle tea, something they had plenty of, as their clay cups steamed in the fast night air.

Brynn was upset when Garan sat next to him, but he did not want to make a fuss by asking him to move. If the group had removed him as a child, he would not have drawn more attention to himself and added words such as belligerent, dramatic, or emotional to their descriptions of him. Instead, he shifted his body closer to Maeve on his left and completely ignored his presence.

“Do you think other groups are more successful?” Maeve asked the group in general.

After a long and thoughtful pause, Cormac said, "I think out of all the groups sent in, our group has the best or worst chance."

"That's fine," Trevor said, agreeing on the cup. With his other hand, he plays a small silver sun hanging from a chain around his neck – an ornament intended to ward off evil. “But we have to see, right? Ingram had not seen the guts of the Dagrun Forest for too long. There may be a treasure trove of meat and leather here.”

“Can be there, but no,” taunted Garan. “Only trees and more trees. I've never seen a squirrel, let alone a real game. What I won't give for good and big money.

“I kind of thought about it that it would be different here. Another world,” Trevor continued. "Mad, maybe."

“True,” sighed Brynn, raising his head upwards to look at the night sky, exposing his neck to the winter breeze. "Didn't you feel it?" It didn't occur to him until he was bothered by what Trevor said. He had been treated like a fool for seeing things in the dark, but here he was, expecting magic and the other world and no one winked.

His face was still tilted upwards, he closed his eyes and was deep in thought. It was true, other than the mysterious creature that might only exist in his head, they only saw a little bit of wildlife, but the forest still felt very lively around him. His skin was tingling where air danced over him in gentle wave currents. The trees hummed silently with ancient lore, his steady rhythm only visible deep within his ribs guarding the time with his heart.

His mind was troubled by the warm hand holding his hand. He flinched from his mind and returned to this moment to find Garan looking at him with tentative affection. His hands are rough and callous but warm and strong. He said nothing as he looked at her.

The conversation continued around them, but neither Brynn nor Garan were any longer a part of it. Garan nodded his head towards the trees again, as he had done before, gesturing to her for another personal moment. His eyes were dark and twinkling, his jaw hardened.

That's teasing. The warmth of her hands around her hands was pleasant, and she imagined that warmth in other parts of her. He almost stood up. But then he remembered those eyes in darkness, bright and dangerous. He remembered how the others laughed. How Garan laughed.

And he remembered why he had returned in the dark alone that night.

"I did what I thought fit into what was mine" he said, and although he only tightened his grip on the back of his neck, he still felt like he was suffocating.

Looking straight back into his eyes - confident, hopeful - he shook his head once, almost without feeling. And then he took his hand back from her. Affection melted from his face, showing momentary confusion, then anger, and finally becoming disgusted. He stood up, turned away from her, and without a word, entered the men's tent.

Brynn, momentarily afraid that unwanted tears would betray her, looked around the fire to see that Trevor and Cormac were already standing, clearly preparing to leave that very night. Maeve looked at Brynn understandingly. He had noticed the discreet conversation with Garan.

"Good night" he said. Brynn knew his friend would question him as soon as they were alone. For this reason, Brynn remained in place. In a few moments, he was left outside with only Vesta.

The old woman watched him closely from across the fire. Brynn has a lot of respect for Vesta. Without a husband or child to take care of, she spends as much of her time as men do. Hunt. Caring for livestock. He doesn't belong to anyone, so he does what he likes.

"You look like him, you know," Vesta said softly. He doesn't talk often, but when he does, everyone listens. Brynn is no exception.

"My mom?" ask Brynn.

"No," Vesta shook her head. “Well, I think you might do it. But I'm talking about your grandmother.”

"You know him?" People from Ingram rarely talk about the Brynn family. At one point, everyone in the village seemed to be staring or gossiping about them, but with the passing of his mother and grandmother, it seemed like the whole world had forgotten that the couple had ever existed. But not Brynn. Or father. They remember.

“Yes, I did it. Salvia and I are good friends.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “When he appeared on Ingram, he caused a commotion. This wild woman with her wild daughter and no explanation of where they came from. If he didn't want people to know, he could have lied quite easily, but he didn't. He just acted as if he belonged there, and eventually, people forgot he didn't.

"I don't think they'll ever forget" Brynn said.

They sat quietly for a while, staring at the fire. A memory echoed in Brynn's mind. His mother and grandmother whispered together near the fireplace of their little cottage. Whisperings angry. Whispering he wasn't meant to hear.

"She's not like the other girls and you better start accepting her" her grandmother said.

"He could be if you let him." His mother spoke so sharply that Brynn was surprised to hear her.

"He is what he is, Mina," his grandmother sighed.

“Not just black hair or gold speck in your eyes,” Vesta pulls it once again into the present. “It's wild. The wild nature they bring from wherever they come. They tried to hide it, but it was always there. And it's in you too.”

That night, Brynn's dream was filled with loud whispers calling him different and wild, stupid and childish. In her sleep, she crept into the room where her mother and grandmother had a fight, but as she approached them, the two evaporated like steam from a cup, disappearing into the air.

And then everything changed, and he stared at the big, swollen moon, bright and fresh, calling out to him. And then, it also yawned, leaving two huge shining eyes that stared at him from the darkness. A low and dangerous growl swept across his skin, and he was both frightened and excited.

Brynn flinched and stuttered, startled from his sleep as a hand pressed his mouth hard. An arm pinched him, and he could feel a face close to him, a breath in his ear.

"Sst," whispered Garan. "We're being hunted."