The Moon Goddess

Traditions

The evening came faster than either of us wanted and before we knew it, we were dressed and on our way down to the ceremony. Werewolves, especially Alphas, are celebrated in jubilant ways after their death. Part of it is a celebration, but most of it is honoring their spirit, thanking it for its time with us and sending it on it’s way for it’s next journey. Lia came to help me get ready. The outfit I wore was a simple wrapped cloth, pinned at my sides. One covering my chest, and one covering my waist, one side hanging lower than the other, loosely on my hips. The showstopper though, was the face paint. Lia put a brilliant swirl of blue on my forehead, and two small circles next to it. She put three lines on each of my cheeks starting from my eye and curving down to my chin. Apollo looked incredible as well, with his own fabric wrapped around his waist and blue face paint. He explained to me that there would be pack members playing drums and others would perform an ancient story. Once the story was done, we would all form a circle and dance to the beat of the drum. Their history is that the drums help the spirit find its way back to the goddess. Apollo and I walked barefoot through the forest, I followed behind him holding his hand, as he navigated us through the dark wood. We came to a clearing and in it were dozens and dozens of men and women dressed identically to us. The individuality coming out through the different paint designs and fabric patterns. It made me admire Apollo, for even if he was about to be a king he truly thought of himself as one of the people. He was going to be such a good leader. Apollo and I joined Lia and Dominic on the ground outside the circle. As everyone settled into place, a man blew a horn. Indicating the start of the ceremony. The sound of beating drums filled the air and we all turned to see Janel enter the clearing. She was dressed differently than the rest of us, wearing the fur of a wolf. She had it wrapped in the same fashion as we did though. She had the face of the wolf draped over her head as a headdress and had it cascading down her back and arms. On her face was the same blue face paint.

“A regular wolf pelt, not a werewolf. Each pack has one for such ceremonies.” Apollo explained quietly as we watched Janel and her entourage, dressed too in furs, but the absence of the headdress.

“How do you get them? Are they hunted?”

“It depends. Each pack is different. These pelts are made upon a pack's creation, and many packs, such as this one are very old. But if the stories are correct Janel’s great great great grandfather found this wolf dying on these grounds and took it as a sign from the goddess that this was where they were meant to settle. He helped the creature's spirit pass on peacefully and thanked it for its sacrifice. He turned it into the pack's ceremonial pelt.”

“How did your pack get yours?” I asked as Janel and her other performers got into place. Among them, I recognized both Paul and Sam, dancing alongside her.

“Do you remember that cave I showed you in the woods?”

“Yes.”

“That was originally a worship place for the goddess, but after the fall of the Galvas, and my ancestors took over, they kept it a secret to protect it. The story goes that one day one of my great grandmother was out gathering herbs, she was a healer and an avid follower of the goddess so she would always stop there. Well, one day she was collecting herbs outside the garden as normal when a wolf approached her. It bowed to her and offered itself to her. She stuck a dagger in its heart and carried it back to the pack to be made into a pelt.”

I shivered uncomfortably as I watched Janel and her pack reenact the story of the birth of Werewolves.

“I think I prefer the story as to how Janel’s pack got theirs.” I responded, leaning in to him slightly to shield myself from the breeze. He laughed low and breathy into my ear, that sent a second set of shivers down my spine for an entirely different reason.

“I happen to agree with you.” He whispered against my ear.

We watched the beautiful movements of the dance and soon enough it was our turn to join. The drums began beating louder and one by one we joined the dance. It was clear immediately there was no order for this. People were spinning and jumping, and while it was all different, it was a beautiful different. Like even though we weren’t in sync, we were still part of the same larger movement. Apollo kept me close to him as he led us through spins and jumps. By the end of the night I was tripping on the ecstasy of the atmosphere. When the ceremony was over, Apollo carried me back to our room and helped me into bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and wiped my facepaint off gently.

“I had no idea werewolves had so much culture.”

“What did you think?”

“It was beautiful.”

He smiled gently and then left to wipe his own face clean before joining me in bed. He held me tight as I drifted off, immune from nightmares tonight.