The next morning, I wake in my bed, still full of euphoria from the night before. My dress is on the floor where I left it in the early morning hours when I had finally shifted back into myself, changed back into my dress, and the pack walked back to our town. We have a tradition in our pack. We howl at the moon in unison. Not just those of us in the run, but any wolf in our pack anywhere in the world. It’s part of the mindlink. I’ve heard only packs in unison can do it that way, like an undeniable instinct. Discord in the pack gets in the way, somehow. And every time we run as a pack, we end by howling together at the moon, and at the Goddess, to thank her for the gift of our existence.
And the Alpha always leads the howl. Letting me do it last night was a great honor.
It was an honor,
