Chosen by the Fates

I Follow After

Aisling~

The dimly glowing golden hue of his eyes gives him away. "It's you." I have whispered the words before even I realize it. He takes a step forward and by heart skips a beat. 

"Delphi." His voice is a baritone purr across my skin. Chills rush through my body, and the air around us feels charged. He closes the distance between us, and my breath catches. "But how?" I feel his lips brush against mine, stealing my whispered question with what could have been a kiss. I am lost in his eyes, my body completely still, mind churning in confusion.

I had known this man through every iteration of every lifetime. We've known one another in countless bodies, in countless ways. I feel a flush rise to my cheeks. I am afraid to blink, afraid he will be gone. His words send a shiver through me, "I found you. Finally..." My heart clenches, my soul echoes the word, Finally.  I am suddenly aware of the heat of his breath on my mouth, every part of me begs for his kiss. I know he feels the same. In every life, in every way. I have always known.

And he obliges.

His mouth is on mine, gently at first. His tongue parts my lips, his warm arms pull me close. My senses are filled with an indescribable scent that is intoxicating and his alone. Sparks trail across every point our skin makes contact. 

A loud buzzing sound snaps me awake. I am disoriented, staring at a white wall in a dimly lit room as the loud noise continues. My alarm. I groan, roll over and bury my face in my blankets, longing for sleep. Longing for my dreams. Until it dawns on me it might be a work day, "s**t what is my alarm for?!"

I leap from my bead, heart racing. It's unclear how much of that is due to my dream, and how much my panic. I dig through my covers searching desperately for my phone and open my calendar. 

No work today. 

I go in again tomorrow. I slump down onto the bed. I must have forgotten to turn my alarm off. Or you're intentionally torturing yourself.

I dream of the day I can be an early riser, and often get lofty ambitions of waking up before 11am on my days off. I loved how the day felt when I had more of it. Unfortunately, my brain always has other ideas. 

"Damn. I'd been dreaming something nice too, I was pretty sure." I stare up at the ceiling as the few remaining fragments of my dream escape my mind.

When I was a little girl I used to remember all my dreams. They began as nightmares, but evolved as I learned to exist consciously within my dreams. My dad had called it Lucid Dreaming. I just enjoyed the magic of my own dreams. I learned to recognize many different types of dreams. Some were meant to show me truths about myself or others, some warned me of things to come, and others seemed to occur in another place from my own mind.An Elsewhere, if you will. As I grew older my dreams became more and more vivid, and there was almost a chronology to them. However, at some point, as an adult my dream life drifted from me. I couldn't remember when, or why.

The real world has always been stark and cold by comparison. Everyone is at the mercy of some kind of daily grind. Despite what religions might tell you, there are no miracles left. Despite what stories and movies tell you, there is no magic. There were few truths in this world, but I knew those ones. The best I could hope for is to bring in a pay check, carve out some small peace, and call it good. Some may think that bleak, I think it's being a realist. 

I fall back to the bed, and quickly into what seemed to be a dreamless sleep. 

When I finally wake up again, it's because sunlight is filtering through my bedroom window. Which means it's late in the day. In the northern winters, the sun often didn't come up until 10-11am. I groan, what else is new? 

I sigh as I feel the familiar warmth and weight of my cat curled up on my chest. My dad used to say that cats guard our bodies while our souls wandered. If that's true, Miss Meow Meow is definitely the most faithful. I scoop her up as I get out of bed, so that she doesn't fall when I get up. I cover her little sleepy head in kisses and set her by her food bowl as I wander into the kitchen to get us both breakfast.

Pieces of my dream return to me as I open a can of cat food, pour a bowl of cereal and add milk. I make a soft huffing sound to myself in though. 

"Oh I know that look," Tiffa's voice is cheerful and prying. She smirks at me as I glance up. 

"What?" I ask, a blush rising uncontrollably to my cheeks.      

"Oh I heard you talking to someone this morning, it sounded good. Who was it?" She grabs the cereal box from me before I can put it away.

My flush darkens when I think about what I might have said during whatever I had been dreaming. "Was I really that loud?"

"Oh no, I just heard what sounded like a quiet conversation when I walked by your door."

Relieved I laugh at that. "I wish. You know I talk in my sleep."

"Mmmm Good dreams then?" She pours her own bowl as I nod. "Well it sounded way more coherent than most of the stuff I've heard before. Maybe it's a sign." She wiggles her eyebrows at me, eliciting a laugh from me.

I take the food for Miss Meow Meow and myself back to my room with a chuckle. Tiffa's laughter follows down the hall after me to my room.

A sign.

Wouldn't that be nice in such a cold world?

***

Sol~

Light filters through the dark branches of the trees casting ornate patterns on the snow. Each of my footfalls is softened by the fresh powder. The air is crisp, cold, and a mist escapes my mouth with every breath. Just after a snowfall was the best time for a hunt, when the snow silenced the whole world. I pull my scarf up around my neck. I didn't actually need it for warmth, but I loved the soft feel of it around my neck. As a wolf, my human skin has always felt more sensitive to me by comparison. 

I don't need to turn and look to know my alpha and family are arriving at our usual clearing. Every sense I have informs me. I feel my wolf within me, restlessly panting and pacing. It had been a long week, and it was time to blow off some steam. There was nothing that made me feel more whole than the synchronicity of hunting with my pack. And the great expanse of wilderness in the northern climates were perfect for our kind for these hunts.

In a gesture of careless grace I begin to untie the scarf from around my neck. Our Alpha, Skoll, arrives first in all her grace and glory. Most human stories will have you believe that everything in this world is led by men, but that couldn't be further from the truth in the kingdom of the wolves. The female leads, chooses her mate, and ultimately her family. This was very similar to our wild kindred.

"Sol." Her voice is a purr. I lower my head in what is the equivalent of a bow to her of respect. She takes me into her arms and we embrace, sharing the warmth of our bodies in greeting. In Norse Mythology, Skoll is the great wolf who chases the sun across the skies. As mother to us all, she named me Sol, calling me her little sun that she chases. Skoll's mate, Hati, arrives next to quietly join in the embrace. While Skoll is the embodiment of something strong, fierce, and equally feminine; Hati is adaptable and unidentifiable in their beauty. Hati uses that adaptability to lead with grace as the perfect mate and second to Skoll. My sister Luna arrives next and joins our bonding ritual without a word. As I am Skoll's "little sun" - so is Luna Hati's "little moon." The twins join us last. Fenrir and Loki. They are indistinguishable from one another, except for their heterochromatic eyes. Fenrir's left eye is brown, and right eye blue. Loki's right eye is brown, and left blue.  

After our group embraces we quietly begin to walk toward the mountains. The twins have less to remove in the way of clothing as they never bothered to dress for the weather. Skoll sniffs at the air, then nods. "He not left, as yet." Skoll is referring to the bull moose she had tracked into the mountains this last week. In the depths of winter the moose often came down from the park borders toward civilization in search of food. While our family could subsist on human food for some time, we eat so much more than the humans in general. More than that, our wolves needed the hunt, and supplementation with fresh kills for our health and to maintain balance with our beasts.

I once heard a story of one of our kind attempting to be a vegan. They ended up trapped in human form and wasted away long before their time. Only in modern times with advent of the internet and fad diets would one of our kind consider something so absurd.

Once all our clothing is off, we bundle it carefully and left it in a dug out hole we often used pre-hunt. The air flowing across my skin sends a shiver through my body. Not because I feel cold, but because it calls to my wolf, like a soft caress, reminding my beast of what it means to exist. Nothing in the world felt similar. My wolf lunges from within me to join the call of the wind, and with it the shift takes place fluidly and painlessly. As if every cell in my body scattered into the breeze, only to rearrange in the form of a massive lupine creature. Our family is a few centuries old, and while younger wolves may experience an agonizing change, it was needless and becomes seamless with time and practice. 

We don't need words. Everything we communicate is in our bodies, our senses, and our goal as we jog forward. A swish of the tail, a head tilt or change in ear position.  

The hunt has begun.

***

Aisling~

I juggle the keys to my car, my coffee, my tablet, and a bag of things as I head toward my vehicle. It's already running thanks to my auto-start. A must-have for cold winter days. This is my one day off this week and I didn't intend to stay inside all day. I had plans to take my things to a coffee shop, and maybe get a few drawings done. 

It is a lofty goal for someone who is overworked and underpaid in a fast paced retail job, let me tell you.

I manage to click the automatic unlock button for my car without dropping my things when I hear the howling. I pause to listen. It sounds pretty far away. Strange. Wolves generally don't come too far into civilized areas. Tiffa and I live in an old duplex A-frame near the edge of the city, backed by park wilderness. It is both affordable for us, and also pretty quiet. I shrug to myself and load up the car. Once my hands are free and I'm in the car buckled, I make sure I have everything I need before pulling away and heading down the long wooded driveway toward the highway. 

After the first mile, and about halfway to the highway, a large bull moose bolts from the woods directly in front of my vehicle. My heart leaps into my throat and my foot hits the break all at the same time. My life flashes before my eyes. Thank god I wasn't going very fast!  I am able to stop in time, which is fortunate for both me and my vehicle. 

Just as I feel my heart begin to slow down, I watch the most peculiar thing. The moose lowers it's head and begins kicking and stomping uneasily at the snow with it's front feet. It's a sign of aggression, and I'm worried my little car may be the moose's target. The road is too narrow to turn in, so I slip the car into reverse and twist over my shoulder to begin backing up. Before I can go, two massive creatures burst out of the woods behind me. 

Bears? Bears shouldn't be out in the middle of winter they - My brain catches up with my racing thoughts and I realize I am looking at two wolves. But these wolves are massive, easily the size of small ponies. I didn't realize wolves got so big. 

My car is now stuck between an angry bull moose... and wolves. Two more wolves flank the bull moose as he pivots and lowers his head at them. Unfortunately for him, he'd already shed his rack this year. But I knew that didn't matter, he was still easily twice the size of my vehicle. 

I frantically lock my car doors while glancing around for an opening to drive through. I grab my phone to call and warn Tiffa. She doesn't pick up, and I'm afraid to look away from what's happening in front of me to text, so I leave a brief message. "Tiffa, stay inside. You won't believe what's happening about a mile up the road! There are wolves and a moose! I'm in my car, doors locked. I'll fill you in once I can get out of here."

Everything happens so fast, as if the world around me suddenly has come alive for the first time in my life. The moose charges, at which time the four wolves dive forward in a way that directs the bull away from my vehicle and towards the woods. The moose pivots at the edge of the woods stubbornly, however, and kicks out at the nearest wolves. Two more wolves dart out and join the other four in driving the moose further into the woods, snapping at the bulls legs and then darting away. I have the space to drive, but I can't take my eyes off of one of the two wolves that just joined the fray.

The wolf is golden in the winter light, as if made from the sun itself. I've never seen anything like it, and I'm filled with an inescapable sense of wonder and awe. As five of the wolves continue to run the moose off, the golden wolf hesitates to pursue. The wolf turns its eyes on me, eyes as golden as - my heart stops as my dream comes flooding back. 

Despite knowing better, despite every rational fear I should have, I find myself fighting the urge to climb out of the car and go to the creature before me. 

A sign.

***

Sol~

Each paw fall is coordinated, and the hunt is incredible. The snow is cool on the pads of my wolf's feet, and the air combs through my fur. I am like a rider of this fierce spirit. Feeling everything my wolf feels, a million senses working in concert to tell us where we need to be next as we give chase to our prey. The bull moose is formidable. He refuses to go down easily, and leads us further away from the park wilderness than we would like.

My pack works together in an effort to run the bull back into the woods, back toward the safety of the uninhabited park that is our hunting grounds. As we race after him, my wolf's attention is pulled by another scent. At first I think it's to inform me of the gas, rubber, and metal of a vehicle. Not something desirable, but my family and I are in wolf form, and we will veer the Moose a safe distance away before ending the hunt. I try to refocus, but there's more to the smell than just the vehicle. I'm confused at the affect of this new scent on my focus. I begin to separate it in my mind. Sage, lilac, honey, vanilla...all pleasant smells, but none which should be more important to my wolf than the hunt.

When I close in on the vehicle, the scent becomes an overwhelming distraction. Something I can not ignore. My beast fights against my attempts to follow my family, and that's when my eyes lock with hers.

The human in the car, that smell is her.

My wolf and I, finally in agreement, freeze at the edge of the woods. Every part of our being is drawn to her, to that smell. Even my own mind struggles against the urge. I can't approach her like this. My wolf doesn't care and fights me. It's all I can do to urge my wolf back, further into the woods. I watch as her eyes follow me, thinking I'm gone. 

My heart races watching her, and my wolf whines and rails against every ounce of our being. I resist. I have to. Our kind survive through staying hidden. There are too few of our kind. Should humans ever discover us, it could be our end. My mind churns, struggling to reason through what to do next. We can't lose her. When the car pulls away, a howl escapes my wolf.

As the car leaves, I do the only thing I am able to.

I follow after.