The Wolf's Song

Feel What I Feel

Diana

I know I should feel bad, but he told me to pick what I like, and that money was no object, so I went big, as I still refuse to even consider going home. I hadn’t planned on picking the most expensive one, but once my eyes feel upon this Scherl & Roth violin, it was love at first sight. I hover over its flaming maple tones, my fingers itching to get started.

“Next, Diana, he cannot leave until you’ve inspected them,” Michael cuts into my love affair.

I refrain from cutting my eyes at him. Soon enough I could play her. I shuffle over to her brother, same company but a gran cello. He is a beauty, his body nearing the length of me, his string taunt and eagerly awaiting my skilled touch.

They were a beautiful pair and ones I know will get plenty of use. I check off on them, plus the accessories and the drivers. Michael grabs the cello, and my face grimaces before I can stop myself.

“I can handle transporting a cello without breaking it,” he says, reading my mind.

I laugh, but don’t admit that even as good as I am, I could never afford this level of quality on my own. He doesn’t make me feel guilty, which I’m grateful for, but in reality, any violin and cello set would have worked.

“Come, Clarissa is waiting, and we should meet her before she changes her mind,” he warns, grabbing the bag with the accessories as well.

I pick up the violin and follow after him. He brings us to a room I never knew he had. It is huge, with tall ceilings and no windows, but it has skylight raining down from above. In the far corner is a table, chair, and music stand. I can tell they are new as they don’t fit this room at allsince they are so out of place.

“What is this room for?” I ask, its true purpose having something to do with shifting, I’m sure.

“For new shifters, training. It’s soundproofed so we don’t have to hold back. Going after new shifters isn’t easy, so we have to prepare,” he explains, placing my cello near the table.

“I’ve spent so many hours in here, almost felt like a prison,” Clarissa enters, cutting her eyes at Michael playfully.

She’s in a one-piece jogger suit and no socks or shoes. Her hair is pulled back in a high ponytail, and it swishes as she joins us at the misplaced table.

“You can really play that?” she asks, nodding to the violin.

I nod to her, smiling at her impressed lip smack. I check the strings, fiddle with the tuning nobs, and soon I’m ready to begin. Michael instructs us to head to the center of the room, though this room is so big that any place would have been fine.

He pulls out the noise cancelling headphones from the bag and rips the box to pieces. I groan, praying he steers clear of my instruments. Wrapping them around his neck, he joins us.

“I figure we start with Clarissa in human. You’ll play two pieces. First, we want to establish the connection between you and the music and then the feelings it invokes in her. Once we figure that out, eventually we’ll move on to being able to send commands while playing. I remember from the festival feeling very self-aware, as if being forced to look inside and bear witness to truths I wish to hide. You said with Damien you played a song about a woman who lost her lover, and that he whimpered as if feeling and understanding her pain. That is where we will start,” he explains.

Previously he told me a bit about Clarissa and her past, and thought it would be good to find pieces that cater to her specifically. I nod that I understand and bring the violin to my shoulder.

“Ready?” I look to my partner in crime.

Clarissa sighs, pretending to be bored, but even I, a human, can feel her discomfort. In the corner of my eye, I see Michael pull on his headphones and I begin.

I pound one foot in beat with the violin, almost adding a drum effect, laying the music and creating a modern spin of this old beauty. At first my eyes are closed as I let the melodies caress me, welcoming me into the playful atmosphere the scales are creating, then I realized I was playing with a purpose, and I open them.

Seeing Clarissa standing in front of me, a smile on her face as she stares off into a wonderful memory, is alarming, as she rarely smiles without malice behind it. Now she looks at peace. My eyes dart down to her hand, it is relaxed at her side and spared as if holding hands with someone.

As I watch her, I try to figure out what I’m feeling, but I’m mirroring the music, feeling it’s cheerful and happy energy. The song finishes and I lower the violin. It takes a second for Clarissa to realize I’ve stopped playing and when she does, her blush is instant.

“You stopped. Damn, that felt weird,” she sighs.

Michael hands her a body of water and pulls off his headphones.”What did you feel?” he asks.

“I was back in my life before I turned. I was with my mother and sister at a theme park. I remember having the best day ever; she let us eat candy and sugary drinks, we played games and road all the rides. She wanted to show us that even though Daddy left us, we would be okay. It’s one of my happiest memories,” she says, clearing her throat, uncomfortable revealing that.

Michael pats her shoulder before turning to me.”What was the song about?” he asks me next.

“Pretty much that, a happy song, a joyous day,” I say. “Oh, and I wasn’t feeling anything, I mean there was no deeper connection to the song as I played,” I add.

Michael nods. “Ok, next song, Diana,” he says.

He replaces his headphones and steps back. This next song I know very well, as I’ve related to it on many levels. It starts slow, classical, soft, but its tone hints at something else as each note increases, the cords getting closer, my bow taking on a life of its own as it slides aggressively over my strings, my fingers on muscle memory striking at the right time, the right pressure.

Furiously I play, looking deep at Clarissa, needing her to feel the energy of the music, commanding her to join me as we dive into this unknown future of chaos. I want her to feel it, embrace it and act on it, unleashing herself.

I draw the bow back, pausing all sound as my last note bounces back at me, but before the trance is broken, I resume, just as hauntingly as before, giving all I can, needing to make this worthwhile for everyone, wanting to understand.

I glance at Clarissa, and she’s locked on me, her nose flaring as I increase the tempo, jamming more notes in. She’s watching every inch of me, then she starts hyperventilating as I beat my strings. I want her wild, as wild as the song is, as it makes me feel.

Suddenly her clothes begin to split, black fur ripping through. She howls, shaking her body before boring back at me, her expression exactly what I wanted, wild and free.

I stop playing, a beat passes, then she growls and takes a step forward, but she doesn’t get far as Michael shifts and blocks my path, forcing me to fall back.

Their mixed growls fill the space as Michael stares her down. Finally, she whimpers and shifts back. Michael remains a second longer, not trusting she won’t try again. Eventually, he returns, and I lower my violin and rush to her.

“I’m sorry. I think that was my fault,” I say, pulling off my sweater and giving it to her.

“What happened?” Michael nearly barks at me.

I twist to look at him, his worry plain to see. “The music, it’s wild and free and I felt it and wanted her to feel it. I didn’t know that would happen. I’m sorry,” I rush out, needing to tell him I wouldn’t have tried to pit them against each other on purpose.

He sighs. “It’s ok. Clarissa?” he calls to her.

She sighs, panting as she recovers. She can’t meet my eyes, but takes my offer of help to stand, as she collapsed after she returned to human.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but no way she’s human. I’ve never felt so seen, felt, and needed. She saw me, Michael, saw what I want, what I am, and I what need to get there,” she trembles in my embrace.

Not human? Then what the hell am I?