Fighting Instincts

Chapter Three- Friend of Foe

I pulled my eyes away. I had never seen so many naked people before and though some might find it comforting when they themselves were naked, I did not take any comfort in it. I wanted to go home, but then I would have to face what had happened and suddenly the people standing around were the furthest thing from my thoughts. Mother and father, were they dead? I was certain there was too much blood for them to have survived. Or I could be wrong. I wasn't a doctor. No, there was no sense giving into false hope. What would I do now?

Without thinking, I drew my knees to my chest and began to rock. It was a soothing gesture when my mother wasn't there to help me keep my thoughts in check. However, the anxiety didn't ease. The more I thought of mother and how to use the techniques she had taught me to cope, the faster my heart beat and the quicker the rise and fall of my chest became. I knew what I had to do but the spiraling thoughts were too confuddled to make any sense. Had the police been called? Was I a suspect? Or perhaps I was a missing person now and how long had I been gone? Should I call the police? If I did, what did I tell them? I couldn't out werewolves because I was one. Maybe I should disappear, but then what if I was a suspect and someone caught me? If I went to jail I would be ….

“Deep breath in,” Zen said at my side. I looked up and to my right to see he was sitting beside me taking exaggerated breaths as he ordered me to copy him. It took all of a minute, and I was able to recenter myself. "No one is going to hurt you without a cause. Even if you are a rogue."

“What's a rogue?”

“A were without a pack. Do you have a pack?” leader man asked, cutting into the conversation with ease.

“I guess, since I don't know what that is, I don't,” I said, squeezing my knees tighter. Could they see anything? Wait, focus. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes, and no,” he said. His tone softened a little.

“Are you a city wolf then?” Zen asked.

“A city wolf?” I asked softly, hating how stupid I appeared in not knowing any of the terms he used.

"A wolf who lives and survives on its own or in small family units we call a city wolf. A rogue, in a sense, but more accepted. Though others call themselves lone wolves if they don't live in the city but in a smaller rural area. They also still check in with local packs from time to time." The leader was explaining and still I couldn't look up. I knew the sight would not be unpleasant per say, but how could you look someone in the eyes with confidence when they waved their p***s at you first?

“I guess I am,” I said with a series of slight nods as I confirmed this to both the men and myself. I found it rather intense staring at Zen for long, and kept peering off to the side of his hazel eyes or up to the sweep of his black bangs. I didn't want to keep looking away from his face if he thought I was trying to peek into his lap. I was trying not to get too many glances to any of the naked people. Aside from health class and the occasional science book, I had not studied men's genitals and I hadn't even changed a boy's diaper. I recalled they looked longer in the books I had studied, but perhaps they had been exaggerated. I did know they grew, or something, but I shook my head to get my head away from such inappropriate thoughts as Zen continued.

“... your mother or your father?”

“Sorry what?” I frowned.

“Who did you get your were-blood from?"

“I...” I paused, and took a deep breath. “I don't know. I was adopted when I was small by a couple. Humans, just regular humans."

Zen considered this a moment before giving a nod and then rising. I didn't turn my face in time and was given a clear view of his dangling bits. He was a little larger than the glimpse I had gotten of the first man, who had yet to give me a name.

“Little one, where is your home?”

“My name is Sylvaline,” I growled out.

“Sylvaline,” he said, almost testing my name on his tongue, “Well Sylvie,” he began.

“Sylva,” I corrected as Sylvie sounded too childish.

“Sylva,” he repeated with a sharp tone, perhaps displeased, I had interrupted again. "I do believe you are the missing girl from the valley. Not too many girls are named Sylvaline. Everyone has assumed you're dead," he said.

I frowned taking in the new information. I didn't want the confirmation, but I knew I had to. If there was even a slight hope, I needed to know. “Are my parents dead?” I whispered, my breath catching as I asked.

“I am sorry, reports state there were no survivors in the house.”

I put my face into my arms and forced myself to breathe through my mouth. Slowly, in and out. I would not cry. Not in front of strangers. But the tears were threatening. I tried swallowing the lump building at the back of my throat. My stomach was empty, still I felt like I would heave. I focused on my heart rate as it rose and urged it to slow. My body and mind didn't listen, and before I knew it, I could feel the pain of my shift. It was the first time I had shifted outside the full moon. My wolf took over and I was running again. Back to my den, so I could hide from the world. There was nowhere left for me. No family. I was all alone again. The wolves who had been no right had left. I darted in that direction. If I made it to my den I could protect myself. I had claws and teeth.

I rushed through the trees. After the days spent here I knew the area well. I picked the most direct route. It was pointless trying to prevent anyone from following. They knew my scent and I didn't have the time to hide tracks. I reached the opening, crawled in and quickly turned before anyone could sneak in behind me. They wouldn't fit, but they might be able to grab a leg and drag me out by it. I waited. Eventually, a black snout came into view and I growled and snapped at it. The snout moved before any contact was made.

“Sylvaline,” Zen called out after a minute or two of silence, “come out.” His tone was an order. I felt a slight need to obey but I ignored the instinct.

I growled my response.

“Sylvaline,” the young girl spoke, “my name is Xena, yes from the show, my mother wanted me to be a warrior." She chuckled before continuing, "I'd like to help you. I lost my mom. It was hard and I guess I know how you're feeling. A little at least. We aren't going to hurt you."

“Xena, I can just order her out what are you doing?” Zen demanded, the command in his voice was filled with an odd sensation.

“You, Axel and father are so forceful, but sometimes we just need a little feminine touch,” Xena hissed. “Can I call you Sylva? I don't get to talk to too many people outside the pack, and we don't have a lot of younger women. I think you probably have a lot of questions. Maybe I could answer them for you?"

I knew what she was doing. I wanted to be alone though, mourn my lose without bystanders. Still, there was this ache to be near someone who understood me. Someone who I could relate to. There was a need to be with family, or friends, or... pack. Yes, my wolf wanted a pack. Like before, I couldn't control the desires and whims of my wolf and I found myself crawling out on my belly and peeking around to see the small frame of Xena. She had positioned herself a good ten feet to the right of Zen and much closer to the den. She knelt down and opened her arms and I ran to her. I rubbed along her open arms and chest, then rested my head against her. I whimpered, and before I could do anything else I blacked out.