1 Wolf’s out of the bag

It became an awkward moment. I let go of my cousin's shoulder and stepped back a bit. Running Elk obviously needed a moment to take it all in.

"You ok?" I asked.

Running Elk shook his head, taking half a step backward. It took a moment before words managed to spit their way out my cousin's throat. "Ok? Damn, cuz, you always played up the wolf you were named after, but to actually be..."

Running Elk paused, his eyes a little wide. I gave him a small smile, shrugging my shoulders a little. The times I'd daydreamed about showing someone what I was couldn't compare to actually revealing it to my cousin. The nervous fear in his eyes had me worried.

"I'm still me. You've known me your whole life. My being able to become a wolf doesn't change who I am, who I've always been."

My words seemed to reassure him.He snorted. "True, you've always been... wolffish."

We shared a grin. So many times we played together in the woods as young children, with me pretending to be the wolf I truly was. Running Elk wagged a finger at me. "You never even hinted that you were a real frigging werewolf!"

"Council said not to tell anyone," I said with another shrug.

"Not even me? That hurts cuz. And your mom, man!" Running Elk let out a nervous, choked-down chuckle. "Not quite the spirit I was looking for tonight. And to think she named you Little Wolf! No wonder you liked story-time so much! Did you pose for the covers...oww, damn, cuz," he exclaimed, rubbing his arm and glaring at me.

I felt bad for my instinctual jab, but mom's books were a tender subject. Both my dad and Grandfather had tried to convince my mom not to print them, for different reasons. Myself, I defended anything to do with my mom, now more than ever. I sighed, looking down in a bit of shame. I knew better than to let my emotions get the upper hand.

"Sorry, cuz."

"Aw, it's alright. The books are awesome, and your mom..."

Another long silence. Running Elk took in the grief still in me, finally looking away. When he looked back, his eyes were filled with an appraising look that went on until I began to get uncomfortable. I moved back against the small rise behind us and sat down. It took a moment, but Running Elk finally joined me.

"The other wolves?" my cuz finally asked.

"Just regular wolves, 'cept dad," I replied.

"You sure?"

"Human wolves wouldn't want to fight for den territory," I explained with a shrug. "It would be cool, though, finding someone else like me. Can't picture someone who could be a man wanting to live out here as wolves though, raise their kids out here."

"Your dad was the big black one? Stupid question, of course he was," Running Elk answered himself, giving a small disparaging snort. "Silly of me to ask if Uncle Black Wolf was the big black one."

"Yeah," I replied with a grin. I couldn't think of anyone that called my dad by his proper name. Everyone in the tribe called him Black Wolf.

"He's not a timber wolf," Running Elk said thoughtfully.

No, dad wasn't like the thinner, lithe, and usually grey wolves found in and around the Rocky Mountains. Dad's wolf was stockier than the wolves found in America, completely black. My own wolf form was mostly black, with whites, creams and greys in my neck, paws, and underside.

"European wolf, cuz," I told him, "straight out of the Black Forest."

Another silence filled with unasked questions and a troubling look. I knew how analytical Running Elk was. He'd think things through until he had the shortest question that would give him the most valuable information first.

"Any werewolves in the rest of the tribe?"

"No," I pause, "except dad bit mom, way after they were married. She wanted him to. Council members are the only ones who know," I added.

A grunt was all I got in response, followed by another long pause.

"You're wrong."

Running Elks pronouncement startled me. Did he mean he knew of another werewolf, or that someone other than the Elders knew? Neither of my assumptions made sense.

Running Elk and I had often played our own 'who done it' game, similar to Twenty Questions. Playing this familiar game with my cousin, even in these bizarre circumstances, helped bring things back to a bit of normalcy.

Yeah, werewolf with a ghost mom, normal.

We'll get to that eventually. Right now, I didn't even want to deal with it, no matter how absolutely great it was having that last mangled image of her replaced by tonight's ethereal vision.

So, what was I wrong about? I grunted to indicate that he should enlighten me.

"We didn't dream, and your mom doesn't qualify as an animal spirit guide," he told me with exasperation.

Ah, my little joking quip from a moment ago. So, still no spirit guide for me. Nothing like disappointing Grandfather, again. Then I cheered up a bit. I wasn't out here for my dream hunt.

"You still have time," I told him.

"Hmm."

The silence was more comfortable this time, settling into the pauses that were natural for our word game. Still...

"So, your mom."

"Yeah," I sighed.

How to describe what it meant to see her again, to feel her love? Maybe there was more to the supernatural world than just me and dad.

"Wish I knew more, cuz."

"Hmm."

The silence drew out. Running Elk and I would break the world record for being talkative, I thought sardonically. We seldom needed words to communicate the important stuff, we were that close. Usually all we needed was a few looks and hand motions.

"You taking that ranger job?"

I grinned as he changed the topic. He was giving himself time to process what he had seen. Trust my cuz to shift the conversation to something more everyday, giving us both time to consider the supernatural aspect of this night.

"Seems a good fit," I said with a shrug. He knew I had talked to grandfather about staying to work on the reservation versus taking a job in the real world.

Running Elk let loose something between a snort and choked down laughter.

"You'd be able to cover a lot of territory as a wolf. Hate to see the looks campers give you when you show up," he said, still chuckling.

His glance at my manhood let me know he was talking about my undressed state after having shifted from wolf to human. Love you too, my ever practical cousin!

"Been thinking of wearing a doggie back pack," I told him.

"Hard to put that on as a wolf," he answered.

Instead of answering, I started shifting. It's natural, for me at least, to start with my feet when I'm doing a total shift. Concentration and practice, which my dad had insisted upon as he taught me, was essential for shifting just part of yourself. I focused on my shoulder, making me look for a moment like a misshapen creature right out of some horror movie, before going on to the hand.

Mom had insisted on teaching me animal anatomy, which is very different than human anatomy. She'd been the best vet in the area. How often had she drilled me on this? I could hear her gentle voice explaining how joints on four legs work at different angles. So, shift shoulder, elbow...ehh... keep human wrist, get a combo of paw and fingers... I went back to full human.

"Working on it," I told him.

From the look on his face, I'd say Running Elk was trying not to throw up. Note to self: try not to look like something out of a horror flick in front of other people.

"How's it work?" he finally asked. "You aren'tstaying a wolf under the full moon."

"Moon's irrelevant for shifting. Moonlight however... well, wolves don't see like people. Moonlight during a full moon is almost like daylight only better, makes things pretty. Mom loved the moonlight."

Another silence. Just bringing up my mom made things awkward. And here I thought I hadn't wanted to deal with it yet. Running Elk shifted his position a bit, and the silence got uncomfortable again.

"Did she know what your dad was before she married him? Or did she find out he was a...a..."

Poor Running Elk, couldn't even get the word out this time.

"Werewolf," I supplied, trying to suppress my grin. Running Elk was looking uncomfortable enough as it was.

"She knew and loved him anyway," I told him. "Dad always said mom changed who he was and how he looked at life. Kind of a twist on the whole werewolf thing, hmm? Especially considering he changed her. "

Another long pause. I lifted my head, trying to get an idea if dad was close. If he was still watching us, he was staying back.

"Keeping the name Little Wolf?" my cousin asked.

I had thought about changing my childhood name now that I was an adult. I had often felt like there was a special name waiting for me to discover and claim. It wasn't that rare for someone to change their name as life happened. Key personality traits, major or even minor life events, some event that separated you from everyone else; many things influence who you are. Changing your name indicated a major change in who you were becoming as you went through life.

I leaned back, a half-smile playing on my lips as I remembered the first argument I had with my dad about me wanting to be my own person, how I was tired of his strict rules and training. Mom had intervened, placing a gentle hand on both of us.

"Our son is growing, and the man in him wants to come out just as the wolf does," she had said to dad. Then she turned to me. "You will always need guidance and advice, all through your life, no matter how old you get. You will always be my little wolf, and I will always be here for you."

I knew she got it, that dad couldn't keep treating me like I was still a kid. As I came into my manhood, I wanted to honor her. I liked the way she had described it, the man wanting to come out. She knew I couldn't stay. I wanted her to know how much I appreciated her. I wanted her to know every time she spoke my name, she would know I was hers, that I would never be too old for my mom. It hurt to know she would never speak my name again.

"Mom..." my voice choked.

It was the only answer I could give to Running Elk's question. It was enough. Running Elk knew the bond between my mom and I was practically tangible. She was the epitome of her name, River Woman. She had been like a deep running river, not some meandering creek. Smooth and gentle, serene; yet she had a deep current that could pull you out of any funk, any tantrum, anything, and make you go with her flow.

And here she was. Kinda. Maybe she was my spirit guide, even if it wasn't the way Grandfather meant. I felt better, relieved even, yet at the same time decidedly weirded out by the whole concept of ghost mom.

A wolf howled in the distance- nothing urgent, just an 'I found something interesting'.

I smiled. "Sounds like our new neighbors might have found a suitable den."

I got up and stretched, prelude to a shift.

"Think I'll go take a look. They shouldn't bother you now. They might still be a bit curious though."

Running Elk stayed where he was, not saying anything. I started to shift, thought the better of it for a second, and turned back to him.

"We good cuz?"

I had to have that reassurance that my human cousin, who was more like a brother to me, still felt that bond between us. He studied me for a moment.His slight smile was a relief.

"Always good, cuz," he said.

I grinned back, and shifted like I do for running; feet first, legs and torso happening so fast, shoulders, focus on front paws hitting the ground. It helped to want to smell what the wolf smells, to see how the wolf sees, to hear...

Four paws on the ground, already moving.The faster the shift, the less focus on the achy pain as bones and muscles readjusted; and the wolf dealt with pain differently.I paused to look back at Running Elk. He looked thoughtful.

"Still good cuz", he said softly.

There was something...I kept looking at him until I realized what it was. His eyes held new knowledge now, no longer naive. Innocence lost, in a way.

I smiled back, tongue lolling, realizing anew just how much I loved my cousin. Another short howl had me turning both my ears and my head out of instinct to pick up the most from the sounds. The old silvering grey was inviting me to join him in a small hunt.

A quick glance full of joy and wolffish laughter at my cousin, then I was gone, off to enjoy what remained of the silver-tinged night.