The Wolf's Song

Wolf Form

Diana

We go into the forest. He helps me cross the river, which looks much deeper up close than from afar, with its rushing, raging waters, but Michael crosses it as if it were nothing. He takes me in his arms and jumps from rock to rock with impressive agility, reaching the other bank in less than a minute.

He then leaves me on the ground and starts walking up the steep hill and into the trees. I try to follow him as fast as I can, and sometimes I think he is going slow just because of me, but if this is slowness, then he has been lying to me all along by pretending he can move like a normal human being, because nothing in his movements is slow, or lacking in strength.

Finally, after about half an hour, he stops at the chasm of the hill, on a small tree-covered bluff from which the river can be seen and which overlooks the house. He sits on a broad rock nearby, hands clasped and not looking at me, and I sit beside him, while keeping silent and waiting.

Finally, he sighs and sees me, and I notice with some relief that the storm in his eyes has subsided. He is not my Michael yet; he does not have that glow of sweetness and calm in his eyes, but at least I no longer see the wolf, the beast in his eyes.

“I would like to understand why you have done what you have done today. What made you go to Damien’s house to try to talk to him on your own? But, although I think of a thousand and one possibilities, not a single one comes to mind that would be sufficient excuse to justify your behavior,” he affirms, and I gather courage, or at least I try to, searching inside me for part of my temperament; enough, at least, to allow me to respond without falling apart.

“I wanted to talk to him. I thought I could make him understand that this war is silly, and that they have better things to do than fight over something that happened many, many years ago.”

“You think I haven’t tried that already,” he says, laughing bitterly, “that I haven’t looked for every way for years to try to reach out to Damien and make up with him?”

“I think... that sometimes you can be a bit imposing,” I say, biting my lip, “and that maybe that’s why he didn’t take your words well most of the time. I understand that I was wrong,” I hasten to add, “but I was just looking for a way to protect you, to stop this. Believe it or not, and even if you are the Alpha of these woods, for me you are still Michael. My Michael, and as unbelievable as it may seem to you, I’m terrified that you’ll put yourself in danger, and that I’ll lose you because of it.”

He looks at me, incredulous, and sighs. He runs his hands over his face and rests them under his chin, looking into the distance before answering.

“And of course, to prevent that from happening you have put us all in danger. You have visited the abode of my enemy and caused us to actually almost die in the attempt to save you.”

“That sounds like a pretty idiotic thing to do on my part,” I admit, while biting my lip and looking at the floor.

“You have no idea how much,” he states, his voice hard, but lacking the anger I have so recently tasted in his person. “The risks you took today are unnecessary, not to say foolish. I understand your concern, but you scared me to death today. I almost died at the thought of losing you. And then, the anger I felt when I understood the risk you put us all in...” He snorts under his breath and hides his face behind one hand. “I’m still trying to control myself so as not to destroy everything in my path,” he affirms.

“Michael,” I whisper then and move closer to him, placing my hand carefully on his shoulder.

He tenses but doesn’t pull away.

“Michael, I’m really sorry. I understand that what I did was completely stupid and... and I have no words to apologize for what happened. But please forgive me...”

His eyes meet mine halfway, and I notice the desperation in his eyes, the deep sadness he feels.

“I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you,” he confesses, and his voice is that of a wounded man.

“I know. And I understand you. Forgive me, please.”

He waits for a moment, but finally his arms reach for me, and I bury my face in his neck as I feel his breath come against my shoulder. He hugs me tightly, though now I understand that this is not even an effort for him, and that, on the contrary, he must be holding back from crushing me, which he could surely do very easily.

For a long moment we stay like that, but finally, our bodies separate. He leaves his forehead resting on mine, with his eyes closed, and I sigh as I realize that there is one last thing I must tell him before closing this matter.

“Michael...” I start to say, and he looks up, searching for mine.

“What?” he asks cautiously, a hidden growl in his voice.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but when I was in Damien’s territory, somethinghappened.” I bite my lip and look at him, trying to find the courage to tell him what I think, or rather, what I’ve discovered. “When he caught me, there was a moment when I thought I was going to die and...” I see how he closes his jaw, how his hands clench into fists. “Well, I wasn’t sure how to defend myself, but then I remembered I had this.”

I show him the ocarina and he raises an eyebrow as I continue, “And I know you might not believe me, but Michael, I played it to get rid of Damien, and it worked. His wolves were surrounding me, and he was about to jump on me, but I played with the ocarina, and it worked. Everyone was spellbound by the melody. They couldn’t move, or attack.”

For a moment, he looks at me, silence supplanting his voice and his eyes fixed on mine. I imagine he’s hastily trying to think how that worked.

“You...you soothed them with a song?”he asks in a slow tone, and I nod.

“I don’t quite know how it works. As soon as I stopped playing, they all jumped on me, and that’s when Clarissa came, but before that they were like... like spellbound.” He looks at me, but finally lets the air out and states.

“I wish you hadn’t had to put your life in danger for it. I know plenty of wolves you can practice your music with without putting your life in danger,” he states.

“I know, but understand: This gift I possess, which Martha says I inherited from my father, is true. Music, my music in particular, has something that can cast a spell on wolves. And I don’t quite know how it works or what it does, but I want to find out, Michael. I want to practice and find out what this power is and how it can help us.”

I look him straight in the eye and he sees it in me--the determination that I’m not going to give up on this until I have it figured out.

“You’re not going to give up on this, are you?” he complains.

“I’m afraid I’m not.”

“Well…” He stands up while running a hand through his hair. “But if you’re going to immerse yourself in this world, you’re going to do it under my rules. No surprise visits to Damien. No looking for wolves on your own to put you in danger and see if the music will save you.”

“Okay, I promise,” I say with a laugh, and he nods.

“Okay, I’ll help you then. We’ll find out together what this gift of yours is and what you can do with music.”

I nod, and smiling, I stand up.

“There is just one more thing I would like to ask of you,” I say.

“What is it?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

I stand up and take his hand, staring at him. I stand in front of him, and as I look into his intense blue eyes, I say, “Let me see your wolf form.”