Wolf Moon by C.D. Gorri

Author:C.D. Gorri
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C.D. Gorri

8

The moon was not yet full and I didn’t understand anything about what had just happened. I only knew I was hurting. My Wolf came to take me away from my pain. She crooned to me in a language all our own. I felt safe and strong. It wasn’t like we were two people, I wasn’t schizo or anything. I was still me. One being with two aspects. I never felt so whole or complete as I did right then. I had felt my entire life like I was missing something. For a while I believed it was the result of being orphaned so young, but right then I knew. Yes, I missed them, but this bottomless void I couldn’t fill had nothing to do with them. It was her. It was me. The other side of myself that I only recently discovered. I clung to my Wolf and ran through the woods. I ran faster and faster. No destination in mind. I just had to get away.

Before I knew it, I was in the woods behind the school near the teacher’s parking lot. I slowed down and panted, catching my breath. I thought I could run fast on two legs, but four carried me even faster. I scented something. It was rotten and foul. The smell was coming from a red Prius. That was a teacher’s car. It was parked in the librarian’s spot. Jeez, Ms. Vorax must have hit a skunk or something. It was awful. I sneezed and headed for the tracks. Everything was roped off by the police tape.

It didn’t bother me, I simply jumped over the tape and walked until I stood in the spot where the body was found. All of the evidence had been collected by the investigators, but I couldn’t shake the feeling I was supposed to be there. I sniffed around, my acute sense of smell even more powerful in my Wolf form. I could smell the grass seeds hibernating beneath the hard, frozen ground, insects, clay beneath the soil, ah, there it was. I could smell him, the poor dead boy, Arnel. I knew it was him because along with the sickly-sweet scent of death, there was also the unmistakable telltale odor of teenage boy. Chips, soda, and absurdly strong scented deodorant. I felt bad. Bad for his mother and father, his younger brother that I found out was in the local middle school, and I felt bad for Arnel. He died too young. Too violently. I could tell his death was bad by the amount of blood I smelled. It was strong and coppery. As I turned to walk away I caught a whiff of something. It was faint, but I could still smell it, a repugnant odor like skunk or a red fox I once smelled at Great Turtle Zoo. As quickly as I smelled it the scent was gone. I shook my long lupine head and headed for the trees. I heard someone coming. I looked towards the track and there he was.

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