The First Wolves

13. OTTO’S FAMILY

Holda, was pacing at the edge of the camp. She had Otto’s wooden figures in her hand as she prayed to the moon Goddess to bring her children and mate back safely. By the time she heard the cracking of bones in the dense tree line, she had promised that she would give anything she would ever have, if her son was in her arms that night.

Eager to see his mate, Jerrick raced through the tree line first, surprised that his beautiful mate wasn’t there to welcome him. Worry sped him to their shelter, where a crowd of women were dispersing.

“What happened? Is Jenny OK?” Jerrick rushed his words out.

“You better go in, someone is waiting for you,” Winnifred smiled, supportively.

Jenny was sitting up against a tree trunk, she was covered in a blanket that the elder women had woven for her, and her top half was wrapped in a thin white shawl. Resting on her chest was the best thing he had ever seen: his pup. He kneeled down and kissed Jenny’s forehead. She looked tired, happy and glorious.

“Meet your daughter, she arrived an hour ago. What do you think of the name June? Stick to the same letters,” Jenny asked.

The only response that Jerrick could give was the proud howl of a wolf who had just been handed the world. The little family were amazed when howls of jubilation were echoed back in celebration of the pack’s first free born wolf.

“I promise next time, I won’t miss a second,” Jerrick promised, annoyed he had only missed his daughter’s arrival by an hour.

Jenny laughed heartily.

“It is a good job you missed it. If you had talked about our next pup after you had seen what our little lady had just put me through, you’d be waiting an even longer time for our next one,” Jenny joked, while kissing Jerrick’s amazed face.

“So, that’s not a no then?” Jerrick laughed back, but nuzzled his mate, admiring her strength.

Jenny placed their pup in his arms, and he leant back against the tree trunk, soaking in every feature of his daughter’s face. Exhausted, Jenny felt sleep calling her as she had refused to rest until Jerrick returned. The last sight she saw was Jerrick’s face enraptured by his pup, she had already besotted him.

The pacing became more frantic as Holda waited for news of her own family, but she paused when she smelt the scent of Otto and her son in the air mixed with a sharp tone of urine. A laborious sob left her as her son ran towards her. He was taller than her now, but still her baby. Noticing the silent nuances of his hardships, she held him tighter to protect him from the past. His dirty tunic that was covered in animal blood, his gaunt face and his plaited hair that had clumps of knots in them showed he was unkempt, but she ignored this and let the filth cover her own tunic. The scent of her mate grew more intense, and she tiptoed to look over Adal’s shoulder to search for Otto. He was beaming with joy, even though his forehead was creased with concern. Beneath his arm, like an injured bird, was a young girl. It was her baby. It was her Anna.

Anna stopped as she saw her brother embracing their mama. She wanted to be held like that, but she was embarrassed by her appearance, and the stench of urine that clung to her clothes and skin. Her father seemed unconcerned by her odour, but her mother looked clean and neat. Anna didn’t want to spoil her mama’s clothes with her own grime. Holda stared at her teenage girl, unable to accept that her prayers had been answered. She pressed her palm against her mouth to hold in the wail of elation, relief and gratitude she felt. Running over to her daughter and mate, she encased her daughter’s bony body in her arms, running her fingers through Anna’s hair as if it were spun silk and not the oily, smelly strands incurred by her years of captivity. Holda held onto her youngest pup, noticing how her body remained stiff, she rocked her back and forth, exactly as she had done the night before they were all taken. Soothing her as she used to when her baby would be frightened by nightmares. Anna’s weight got slightly heavier as she started to relax and enjoy her mother’s comfort.

“You still have your shawl I made you,” Holda softly whispered, recognising it instantly.

Anna nodded.

“It is the only thing I had of home, it has rips in it from trying to wear it as I got bigger, and sometimes it ripped if the log cabin was full,” Anna confessed shyly.

It wasn’t just the condition of the shawl that her daughter could have been describing, but the damage that had happened to their family. Holda knew this even if Otto didn’t. She would explain it to him later.

“We will always treasure this shawl, my darling. It came from our first pack and you’ve looked after it so well. All the memories and love you are able to keep alive is a powerful thing to achieve. This is our new pack, and we will get you new clothes and you won’t need to remember how much we loved you, because you will be able to feel it every day,” Holda gently explained.

Anna gave a very little smile. Her mother had always known how to make her feel better and this hadn’t changed. She opened her hand, and revealed the button that she had taken care of.

“I remember this, your grandmother brought them to be sewn on to the shawl. I’ll stitch it onto your new tunic. Would you like that?” Holda asked her daughter, and was relieved to see her nod.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Otto clutched his whole family to his chest, and thanked every God and Goddess in the sky for his remarkable blessings.

Maintaining a respectful distance, Fidella met Conri in the tree line, both reluctant to interrupt the monumental reunion. This was the first entire family they had managed to unite, and the accomplishment they felt made the danger a reasonable risk. Watching Otto’s family only made Conri more determined to find his pack’s lost people. Pulling Fidella’s back to his chest, and crossing his arms over her collar bones, he nuzzled into her hair, soaking up the scent of honey and almond milk. They had been parted for a day and night, yet he missed her more than he was able to express. Einar was hankering for some time with his mate. Although Conri would usually point out the mountain of duties they still had to complete, he couldn’t bring that logic to his mouth tonight. He had a duty to his mate and bond as well, and he realised they had been putting that last instead of first for an unforgivable amount of time.

“We have to save as many as we can,” Fidella sighed, being moved by the little girl who was nervous about being held.

“We will, my queen” Conri replied to her with determination.

She turned around and gazed at his face that was heavy with responsibility. She knew his greatest fear next to losing her was to fail his pack, and these doubts occupied his mind constantly.

“You and the team did a great thing today. I’m proud of the Alpha you have become. I am proud to be your Luna. I love you.” She reaffirmed to him.

“You are my Luna, joint Alpha, queen and goddess. There isn’t a word in the world that can encapsulate how much I love you, and how much you are my everything.” Conri replied, candidly.

Leaning down, he lifted her off her feet and carried her to their small camp in the temple. He knew they still had duties and plans to arrange tonight, but before he could tackle them later. He needed to hold her in his arms. In the stillness of their clasp, they found peace in the madness, magic in the mundane, and connection in the chaos.

Otto and Holda took their children to the lake, where they washed in the refreshing water. Anna had scrubbed her body harshly as her mum washed her hair with a flowery oil that Iselda had given her. Holda was a little concerned with how vigorously her daughter was cleaning her skin, but allowed her the autonomy over her own body that she had been denied for so long. When they were finished, Anna insisted she could still smell the harshness of urine on her skin, but Holda assured her that it was her mind playing tricks on her, and that she was clean. Both their pups were wrapped in linen sheets that had been given by pack members to ensure that their children felt welcomed. Returning to their shelter, the parents could see from the light of the camp fire that Adal’s shoulders were scarred with shiny nicks, and longer, deeper crates marked his skin. He picked up a clean tunic that had been provided for him, before he noticed his parent’s expression.

“It’s OK, most of them were caused by the bones of animals that would cut into my skin when I was younger, before my wolf came.” Adal explained.

“And the others?” Otto asked.

“Some are from punishments for mistakes,” Adal replied, wanting to change the topic to happier subjects, but not knowing how.

“My wolf’s name is Konrad!” He shared with them, hoping this would diffuse the tension.

He was thrilled when his parents focused on his wolf rather than his past. While Adal was successfully distracting their parents, Anna slipped away behind a statue to remove her linen and put her tunic on. She knew her father and brother had deduced her usual method of punishment. She recalled how those reeds would scream against the back of her thighs on impact. She had lots of shiny lines on her legs from where the embers of the fire had bitten into her as she stood next to it. Her skin had darker stripes where she had been scolded, or leant her arm on the wooden container to save herself from falling in, or from when her eyes had closed from exhaustion. These were the scars caused by the work she had done, each one of them a painful lesson to do it right the next time. Although she wanted to disguise the imperfections that marred her skin from her parents, there was a more severe one that she wanted to hide from everyone. When she had gotten into the lake, she was sure to hide the worst marking under her hand, so that her mother wouldn’t notice.

On the day she was bought, her owner had sat her in front of the fire, and Anna had enjoyed the warmth at first, thinking she had been lucky and found a kind mistress. Then, the lady had pulled a metal rod from the fire, and put her knee on Anna’s left hip, pressing her face down into the cold ashes, before pushing the burning metal into her right side. She screamed in shock and agony, then sobbed when it was removed, and gasped when the metal was thrown back into the crate.

“Better get used to the burning slave, you’ll need thicker skin for the work you’ll be doing, but nothing will ever feel as bad as that. That is something you can thank me for later.” She scoffed, then pointed to the wood shed that became the place she slept for the years ahead.

She hadn’t shown her brother, she didn’t want him to make any rash decisions, he already blamed himself for so much. She wouldn’t tell anyone. It was her secret to bare.

Casually re-joining her family, as if hiding to put on clothes was normal for a wolf, she indulged in the warmth caused by the camp fire. Distracted by the comforting heat, she didn’t notice the fabric that was incinerating in the flames, until the smoke cleared a little. It was the tunic she came in. As the fabric of her recent life transformed into grey flakes and blew away in the wind, a heaviness she hadn’t realised she had been carrying was scattered away too. Her mother had washed her shawl and laid it out on a smooth stone to help it dry.

“Here you are, my darling,” Holda said to her daughter, while passing her a bowl of hare stew.

After taking her first mouthful, ignoring the burn on her inner cheek, she gave a bright, beautiful smile. It tasted like home. It tasted like love. It tasted like everything would be well from now on.