injuries-in-dust:
Writing Prompt #11
Somehow, you, a perfectly ordinary human, has ended up the alpha of a pack of werewolves.
A Little Bit
The trick, she discovers, is kindness.
~
Werewolves are notoriously violent. They are said to “lose all autonomy” on night of the full moon, and transforming on other days still results in “heightened levels of testosterone and violence.”
If you tell someone that they are something their whole lives– if you tell a little girl that the color white is purple, that she is dumb because she writes backwards, or that she is bad because her hair or her financial situation, she will believe that. She will grow into that. If you tell a werewolf that they are evil and violent when wolves, that at their freest they are their meanest: they will believe that. They will become that. They will expect that of other werewolves and become defensive, will have bred hatred for their brethren before they ever transform.
An outsider’s perspective is sometimes needed.
And it starts, as most things do, with a child.
~
“Look,” her brown fingers forcefully unfolded from the fist it had been making. “I know what I want. I want the child you said you couldn’t even find fosters for. I already signed the paperwork!”
The social worker sighed, skin washing out under the light and wrinkles deepening. “I have to make sure. I’ve been trying to find little Zora parents for years now, but…”
“The only issue would be health issues. I can afford an unhealthy or disabled child, so that’s not an issue for me at all. I don’t get why you’re being so–”
“Zora is a werewolf.”
Silence.
Hailey took a breath. Let it out.
“So?”
The social worker smiled, “Then one more signature, and in a few weeks you will have your child, and Zora will have her home.”
Neither of them mentioned his tears. They both talked over what she would need to buy to handle a werewolf child– her werewolf child. They drank tea. She signed papers.
She would never regret that.
~
Zora had the yellow eyes of all lycans. She grinned shyly with too-sharp teeth, and fiddled with her too-long nails.
Hailey gave Zora the softest blanket she could buy, and settled her down for hot chocolate as they watched the sun set from the porch.
She had dimples and threw her hands around and enjoyed talking. And loved the color green. And brown. And blue. Maybe red was her favorite color, but pink was certainly a close second. No, wait, purple. She liked ice cream and steak and chicken and flowers that grew between the cracks of the sidewalk.
Zora was perfect.
The doctor said that Zora would transform the next full moon. To lock her in a cage. To muzzle her. To chain her up.
Hailey looked at Zora. At her large yellow eyes so filled with hope. At the way she used her too-long nails to open bags of chips or used her too-long teeth to open cans. At the sundresses she wore; pictured the paint-stained overalls. The room they had painted like a galaxy, the glow-in-the-dark stars they’d taped and hung on her ceiling.
She thought about the small, lycan-run website she made, and some controversial, revolutionary ideas it proposed.
She snorted. Yeah, right. Lock and chain her child up? No.
~
The first transformation was always painful. An online forum said nothing more than a Aspirin or two could be taken for this first Shift.
“Mom?” Zora’s lips wobbled. Her bushy hair tangled from the nervous pulling it had endured that day. “I– I don’t want to be bad, mom. Will the Shift make me bad?”
Hailey could have said anything to that, and no one would blame her. She could say it’s not you, it’s the wolf, like one website recommended. She could say yes, and every second you have to fight against the evil inside you, like one Christian-extremist group urged. She could have said anything. She said,
“No. You are good, and the wolf is a part of you, so it must be good, too.”
And it was that simple.
The moon rose. A daughter screamed, a mother cried. A mother prepared to have to wrestle her child, so much stronger than her, to have to assert an unwanted dominance.
A werewolf– too large to be a real wolf, spine to straight, claws too split, to be something so mundane. It yipped. Saw the hesitation in the mother’s eyes. Rolled onto its back, tongue lolling, and yipped again.
Hailey laughed. “Good girl! I love you so much! Want pets, or play?” A yip, the lycan bounded off. More laughter. “Play it is, then!”
~
There’d been complaints. A neighbor said they “feared for their life” and that “the lycan had attacked” her. Zora didn’t leave the backyard, despite how much she wanted to. So, once a month, they drove to a werewolf forest-reserve. They hadn’t encountered any other lycans.
Until then.
A grey wolf burst out from the bushes, snarling and snapping. Intent on Zora. Zora.
“Zora!” Hailey didn’t need to think, she was moving before words could form.
“Don’t you DARE touch my daughter!” She stood in front of Zora, arms spread wide.
That did not deter the lycan, who prowled closer. Yellow eyes. She could not hurt yellow eyes. But she must.
~
Werewolves have exceptionally large forms. A younger, adolescent lycanthrope in its Shifted form can easily tower over an adult man. These large forms are one of their greatest assets: they can overpower their prey though sheer size. It is, however, also a weakness. For, you see, their vulnerable points are that much more exposed. Which is why, if one becomes cornered by a Shifted lycanthrope, it is recommend that you strike at their diaphragm or throat, if help cannot be contacted, before absconding away as quickly as humanly (or superhumanly) possible.
~
She rushed forward, swinging her elbow and digging it into the small hollow near the creatures chest. It yowled, falling to the side. It growled and backed away.
Zora whimpered, tail between her legs and ears down. She nuzzled at her mother worriedly, terrified of the bigger werewolf and scared for her mother’s life.
“It’s okay, baby.” she hushed, holding out a spray-bottle (Zola loved to try to bite the sprays of water) like it was a gun, eyes never leaving the (violent, evil, human) attacking lycan. “See? Mommy knows what she’s doing.”
She stepped forward once. Twice. Four steps and then she hit a stride. She stood nose-to-nose with the lycan, all five-feet of her stretching tall, towering in presence if not height.
“Bad.” The lycan growled. She sprayed it twice in quick succession. “Bad.”
It blinked. Surprised.
“Now, if you wanted to play, you could have just waited!” She turned, walking purposefully in Zora’s direction. “Come along, now.”
They did come along, by lunging. Zora howled, bunching up her muscles and preparing to attack, but Hailey whirled around, spraying their face. “Don’t be mean! We don’t want to fight. I have steak, and am willing to share. But only to those who play. Nice.” They considered, head tilting, before thumping to the ground and rolling over, whining.
Hailey laughed, but wiped the anxious sweat from her forehead. “Okay, let’s go!”
~
The next full moon, the black-and-white wolf found her, a pack behind them, all barking and waiting for plays and pets and meat.
~
The full moon after that, everyone fell asleep just before the sun rose, and Hailey met them as people.
Hardin was the black-and-white, and she was alpha. Or rather, she had been.
“What.” Hailey couldn’t comprehend.
“My name used to be Phir’Hilaaya, but now it is Hardin. Normal pack members are given two-syllable names. The Alpha gets three-syllables. As previous Alpha, I name you Melora.” Hardin was gigantic in her human form, as well. Hulking muscles, and she stood at least at six-foot. Her yellow eyes had become softer than when Hailey– Melora?–
“Okay, yeah. I get that part. But how did I become Alpha?” She bit her lip, held Zora closer to her.
Hardin gave her a look like she was particular stupid, but humored her regardless. “That first night, I showed my belly to you. An Alpha can never submit to an opponent, else they lose their place. I submitted to you, so you are Alpha.”
Hailey hunched in on herself, and whispered, “I don’t know how to be Alpha.”
“That’s okay,” Hardin put an arm around her shoulders, giving her a kind smile, “I’ll help you get on your feet.”
Melora stood taller. Looked at her daughter. And knew.
~
Melora’s pack was not the first to fight for werewolf rights. No, they were simply the first to have a human leading the pack, and for that human-Alpha to be dating the previous Alpha.
As they strode towards a better world, a better life, Melora suggested, “Maybe we can help the vampire community, once we make more progress here.”
Hardin, bouncing Zora on her hip, barked a laugh, “You’re too good. But wherever you go, we’ll follow.” Howls broke out around the Alpha.
Hailey, now Melora, had known she wouldn’t regret this.
A little bit of kindness goes a long way.
~Fin~
Oh, geeze. This was supposed to be a little thing, but I wrote six pages on google docs for this and hrrrggghhh. I didn’t get to include everything I wanted, otherwise it would have taken hours longer! I hope this is something like you were imagining for your prompt idea. I wish I had more time to do things for this, but it wasn’t meant to be D:
This isn’t written in my usual style, but it was fun. I hope anyone reading this enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
