A White Moon

New Color

The day after we arrive at Red Moon my sister bore Logan’s mark. That meant that they had done “the deed”. When I caught a glimpse of Logans neck I also saw my sisters’ mark.

When she joined me after breakfast I begged her to tell me everything. She refused.

“You’ll get there when you do. But wait for your mate. It is amazing. Everything feels… more.”

Dora was a virgin, but she did a lot of kissing and making out, before Logan.

Over the following week I can start to get around and move more and more by myself without bending over. Dora’s Luna ceremony was scheduled to three weeks after we got to Red Moon. That meant that the Luna ceremony would be a week and a half before mine and Dora’s birthday.

I even notice that the packhouse has an elevator so I skip the stairs most of the time. I can always blame it on the stitches.

Logans mother came up to my room a few times. Her name is Makela, she's really nice and smile a lot! Thick brown hair that falls in waves around her shoulders to the middle of her back. Other times I follow her downstairs and she shows me the first floor.

There is a huge kitchen, big enough to hold fifty people standing. There are three smaller rooms that is used as pantries, three refrigerators and three freezers, four stoves and five ovens.

“How many pack members do you guys cook for?!” I exclaim when I first see it. It feels like a restaurant kitchen from a Hollywood movie.

“Every day only about thirty, but when the whole pack is gathered it’s about 600 members.” I need to sit down. Makela just smile. “Breath in, breath out.”

We continue our tour of the first floor. There are four toilets, two living rooms, two dining rooms, another huge room that is a recreation room. A big TV was on one wall, Xbox and a lot of DVDs.

An event hall for balls and big meetings. Even a small library, that I get my own key to. Makela explain that only ranked members have a key.

“B-but I’m not r-ranked…” I stutter.

“Please. You’re the future Lunas sister. You’re ranked now.” She gives me a stern look but then smiles. “After the ceremony I will start your education.”

Her fashion style is also one of a kind, though I never see her without anything white. There is always something white in her attire. Whether it is a neckless, shoes, pants or blouses.

White is the werewolf community’s mourning color. I wonder who she is mourning, she did not seem sad.

After about a week I decided to ask. “Makela.”

She turns from where she stand in the kitchen talking to the kitchen staff. “Yes sweet pea?” She uses the nickname she gave me day two. I smile inwardly.

“I don’t mean to be rude or to pry but…” I start, the worst that could happen is that she doesn’t want to answer right? “…are you mourning?”

Her smile dies a bit before she sits down beside me. “Yes, sweet pea, I am. You see, ten years ago I lost my Olivia. She'd just turned fifteen. Logan was thirteen. She and Logan were out in the woods and there was a Rouge that got past our defenses. Neither of them was able to turn into their wolves to protect themselves or each other, but-“ she takes a deep breath. “Olivia stepped in front of the rouge to save her brother. That gave our warriors enough time to get to them and kill the rouge, but it was to late for my poor girl. Olivias wounds were too great.”

I just sit there. I couldn’t take it in even though I heard everything she said. Olivia was so selfless. She saved Logan!

After another couple of seconds of just processing, I can finally formulate the words “She was very brave.”

“Indeed, she was.” Makela sigh and she looks a bit sad. I wanted to comfort her. Before I knew it I stand up and give her a hug. She tense up only to almost instantly relax. “Oh sweet pea” she sigh and hugs me back.

Suddenly I feel arms around us from behind me, now it is my time to tense up before I recognize my sisters’ arms and size around me.

Another week pass, my stitches is removed but I’m still on the meds to prevent an infection. While me and Makela are in the kitchen eating some fruit after lunch Makela blurts out “Sweet pea. Your black hair is nice and all. But don’t you miss your light color?”

“I DO!” I hear Dora yell from the dining room.

I look down on the strawberries in the bowl in front of me “Father always disliked it…”

“That’s not what I asked.” Makela had start to use the same tone that Dora does when she talks to me. It is motherly, kind and caring.

“Maybe. I don’t remember.”

“I think we should do a decolorization.”

I think about it and it really is my natural color. The one I was born with, the one the Moon Goddess gave me. So, I press my negative thoughts back and agree.

When we start the process the following day both Dora and Makela is with me. They decide with, in consultation with the hairdresser, that it will be better for my hair if we do three sittings.

First Dana shower my hair. Then she puts the decolorization in and put one of those big cone thingies with heat over my head. They give me my phone where Dora have downloaded an app that you can shoot bubbles on. Time goes fast and soon she takes it from me and Dana shower my hair again. She then put in a hair butter that smelled like raspberries.

“What is that?! I need that in my shower!” I exclaim. Makela chuckles and grab one for me.

I sit about ten more minutes and Dana rinse again, then towel dries it.

My hair was now a brown-red color, I do not like it. Dora sees the face I made.

“Relax. It is only for a couple of days. Then we all get to see somewhat close to your real color. Though I can’t wait for it to grow out of its own!”