The White Wolf

Chapter 1: Liam

A twig snapped under my paw as I chased the deer. There was no need to be quiet any longer. I had been stalking my prey now for a solid ten minutes. It was not getting away from me. It leapt over a fallen tree, hitting its hind leg and stumbling. I was closing in. I could faintly sense the presence of another wolf behind me, but I did not pay it any mind. My full attention was on the deer ahead. A few more feet… I jumped.

I tackled the deer to the ground, quickly clamping my jaw around its neck. I bit down hard and it let out a short whine before falling silent. I opened my jaw, letting the deer slump to the ground. Satisfied with my hunt, I lay down beside the deer and began to eat. My ears perked at the sound of rustling leaves. The other wolf had finally caught up.

He let out a small growl in greeting and promptly lay down across from me, not indulging in the deer in front of him. This was my kill. He would find his own.

***

It was a few hours later when I finally finished my run and returned to the two story cabin in the woods, the other wolf still hunting. I padded up to the stairs leading to the front door and shifted. Gone was the large brown wolf. Now I was human, crouched down on the ground, naked as the day I was born.

I quickly made my way into the house and upstairs to my room. I shut the door behind me and walked into the adjoining bathroom. I turned on the shower and waited for the water to warm up, looking at myself in the mirror as I did so. My dark brown, curly hair was a mess. My blue-grey eyes were tired; the usual after one of my runs.

At the sight of steam rising from the shower, I stepped in. I let the hot water cascade down my body, relaxing my muscles. I lost track of the amount of time I spent in the shower. Sometimes I swear I could just stay in there forever. I was brought out of my relaxing daze by the sound of the front door opening and closing downstairs.

I shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing the towel off the rack next to me. I quickly dried off and went back into my room. I picked up some random clothes on the floor and put them on. I then threw the towel in the corner and made my way downstairs.

I walked down the stairs and through the living room to the kitchen, where my dad stood making a sandwich. He looked up at me as I entered the kitchen and gave me a nod. He was wearing a pair of basketball shorts and an old t-shirt with a tear in it. I raised my eyebrow at him as I sat down in front of him.

“Did you not find anything out there?” I asked him.

He gave me a small grin. “I did,” he replied. “But I’m still hungry.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course he was still hungry. He is always hungry.

“How was your run?” He asked me as he finished up his sandwich.

I shrugged. “It was good. Same old, same old.”

“Good. Are you ready for school tomorrow?” He asked between bites.

Tomorrow was the first day of senior year. I was pretty excited, and ready to see all my friends again. Summers were pretty isolated for my dad and I. Living in the middle of the woods kept us away from people most of the time, which in its way I guess was a good thing. It allowed us to spend time in our wolf forms more freely.

            My dad was the English teacher at the local high school, so with no school and no job to do during the summer, we were able to spend the time training. My dad was hell bent on making sure I could hunt, fight, and just overall hold my own as a wolf, which, when I thought about it, was a little strange.

            I had spent almost my entire life here in the little town of Wahya, North Dakota, having moved here when I was just a baby. And, in all those years, I had not met a single wolf aside from my dad. With no other wolves, and nothing even remotely threatening around here, it was hard for me to understand why he took my training so seriously.

            “Liam?”

            I jumped slightly as I was brought out of my thoughts. My dad was looking at me funny, his halfway eaten sandwich in his hand.

            “What? Oh,” I said, having momentarily forgotten what he had asked. “Yeah, I’m ready. It’s my last year of high school. It should be good.”

            “Good, but I heard that English teacher is pretty hard,” he warned me before shoving the sandwich in his mouth.

            I rolled my eyes. “I heard he was full of shit.”

            My dad chuckled. “We’ll see,” he said and walked out of the kitchen having finished his sandwich.

            My dad was a complete dork. I stood up from the island and made my way back up to my room. I closed the door behind me and flopped down onto the bed. I stared blankly up at the ceiling for what seemed like forever, thoughts of tomorrow running through my head. Finally, after who know how long, I drifted off, ready to start the next year of my life.