The Rebirth and Awakening of Wolfie Star-Runner

Junium 13, 1043 P.W.D.

The report had come from Hanaga, a small town just south of the city of Bevelle. The notorious werewolf known as Theta had been plaguing the area for three months straight, killing innocent people with the dastardly, premeditated bloodlust that was his trademark. All werewolf hunters who had faced him had died just as painful and torturous a death as his other victims, being kept alive just long enough so that Theta had ample time to fully enjoy the flavor of their blood seasoned with fear, pain, rage, and despair, always saving the heart for last, always leaving the head intact. Finally, the county’s governor had sprung for the best of the best, the only X-5 rated team of werewolf hunters out there—Wolfsbane Bendis’ team.

Technically, Wolfsbane was second in command, but he came from a long and illustrious line of werewolf hunters going back over seven hundred years. He had been trained since the age of two to battle werewolves, schooled in even the most esoteric of werewolf lore, and taught by his father from the first moments of his life that all werewolves were evil, bloodthirsty monsters and that it was essential to the survival of the human race that they be eradicated. The other members of his team—Ren Ascot, team leader; Vale Haland, expert trapper; Helga Mir, recon specialist; and Monty, a near insane man who seemed to like to shoot things—all knew that although Wolfsbane was the youngest member of the group, he was clearly their ace in the hole because he had been born and bred to not only kill werewolves, but to feel no remorse when he did.

They arrived in Hanaga at half past noon that day, three days before the rising of the next full moon and less than sixteen hours since the last murder took place. Wolfsbane ran a hand through his short, black hair, his emerald green eyes looking upon the scene with a feigned lack of emotion. The roughly six foot tall twenty-year-old was internally wincing, though, as he looked upon the remains of Theta’s latest victim—a small girl—her face still twisted with fear and stained with tears. Scenes like this always enraged him, sickened him to no end, and only served to prove true his father’s teaching: that werewolves felt no human emotions. How could any creature with a heart…with a soul…be so evil?

‘Damned monsters!’ Wolfsbane thought angrily. ‘They kill as they please and they lap up the blood… I’ll make Theta pay for his crimes…personally.’

Bendis, Ren said, cutting through Wolfsbane’s angry thoughts and looking perfectly calm, even in the face of the horror before them, you’re with me tonight. Haland, Monty, you’re with Mir. And Monty, no shooting random squirrels this time. Silver bullets are not toys! Ren was a fit, well built, and even Wolfsbane had to admit, rather handsome man of thirty three. His short, dark brown hair was always neat and well groomed and he never wore his shirt wrinkled or his socks mismatched. In fact, Wolfsbane had never seen the man so much as forget to shave. He was damn-near perfect…which made most women swoon and had made poor Wolfsbane feel like chopped offal on numerous occasions throughout his adolescence.

One would have expected that a more mature and experienced man like him would take a young man thirteen years his junior under his wing and mentor him on the finer points of manhood. Ren, however, had left Wolfsbane to figure everything out for himself since the day eight years ago when he had joined the team. That day, Wolfsbane had asked Ren how to talk to girls without looking like a fool. In response, Ren had only looked Wolfsbane up and down and told him, First, you need to be handsome…so there’s no chance in all seven Hells for you. You’re going to be a virgin forever. Get used to it. That statement had all but smashed Wolfsbane’s fragile, awkward-twelve-year-old-boy confidence to dust.

Monty’s eyes turned towards Ren in a quick, creepy sort of way, which reminded Wolfsbane of a rabid rodent. The man had always sent a shiver up his spine, ever since Wolfsbane had joined the team. He was a scruffy, scraggly-looking man of roughly thirty, with constantly disheveled looking, short, greasy brown hair and wild grey eyes which almost seemed to protrude from his face like he was some sort of insect draped in human flesh. He carried a huge gun strapped to his back, seemingly at all times, which he called Telulah. That fact made him even more creepy as far as Wolfsbane was concerned, for his mother had always told him to be wary of any man who names his gun. Every swordsman named his blade, but only psychopaths named their guns. Who, me? Monty said in an equally quick and creepy manner. Now why would I do a thing like that? I use the ones that explode on contact for that!! Hahaha, BOOM!!

Monty, Helga said, raising a single blonde eyebrow, you never cease to freak people out.

Oh, you know you want me, babay!! Monty said, directing his gaze to her cleavage and subsequently getting slapped.

Yes, if there was one thing about Helga Mir that anyone noticed right away it wasn’t her confidence, or the guns at her hips…it was that she was hot. She was a busty blonde of about twenty-eight, with a nearly flawless hourglass figure and gorgeous blue eyes. When she was not in combat she would dress in tops with low neck lines and—weather permitting—exposed midriffs, coupled with pants that were either very tight or—again, weather permitting—very short. This particular early summer’s day…well, weather permitted. Otherwise, she wore tight, full-body combat suits. Her taste in clothing made her obscenely popular with men, to the point of having been featured as Miss Februne in last year’s International Werewolf Hunter’s Association calendar, but her snotty attitude and habit of using her looks to get her way made her almost universally hated among women… Wolfsbane’s two older sisters, River and Flood, especially despised her.

Vale laughed, the slight thirty-two-year-old shaking his head and smoothing down his just recently thinning, tightly cropped, black hair as he did. Don’t kill him, Helga, he said, pushing up his thick, wire-framed glasses, We need him.

I know, that’s why I only slapped him, Helga said with a faux-sweet smile.

Come on, team, let’s get back to the inn and get ready for tonight, Ren said, leading the way away from the crime scene. We can’t waste any time messing around.

Helga, Monty, and Vale started leaving, following Ren’s lead, but Wolfsbane lingered behind a moment to take one last long look at the victim. Then, he too followed Ren past the partition and back into town. Being a werewolf hunter was a dangerous profession, but for Wolfsbane it was also a depressing and frustrating one. For every psychotic killer he destroyed, for every livestock thief or thug he put a bullet in, for every den of werewolves he wiped out, for every unborn werewolf he had a hand in aborting, he knew that there were always more out there killing or waiting for their opportunity to kill human beings. His work was never done and, when he first started out as a rookie, he had even had his doubts about whether or not he was even doing the right thing. There had been times in the beginning when he had hesitated to pull the trigger, or broken down crying not long after he had. It had taken the better part of two years to rid himself of those doubts, and scenes like this were a constant reminder of just how important it was that he continued in this mission. Someone had to stop these monsters. Not a single one was innocent.

As soon as they got back to the inn, everyone returned to their rooms to ready their gear and rest up. It was going to be a long, hard night and everyone had to be at their best. Wolfsbane immediately set about checking, cleaning, and loading the weapons he’d planned to take along this time around: a large caliber assault rifle, his trusty semi-automatic pistol, and the silver bladed hunting knife he kept on him at all times in case of emergency. Then, he kicked off his boots and flopped down on the bed, trying to get comfortable enough to take a short nap.

It was not at all easy for Wolfsbane to make himself comfortable. It was not because this was a strange bed in a strange place. He had been on the road almost constantly since he was ten. It was not nerves either. He never got nervous before a job these days. It wasn’t even the summer heat, as the fan on the ceiling was enough to keep the room at a pleasant temperature. No, he was just having one of those moments where, for some unknown reason, nothing felt quite right. He had had such episodes for as long as he could remember and he was used to them by now. Sometimes he would feel as if he had too much energy, or too little. Sometimes he would feel as if he was being scrunched inside of an invisible box or itching from the inside.

This time, it was the restless…something…that made him involuntarily go over his canine teeth with the tip of his tongue. He hated that feeling the most because of the memories it brought back. These were the memories he wished that he could make disappear forever. These were the memories of sitting on his balcony as a child when the moon was full and checking every few seconds to see if anything had begun to change, the memories of refusing to eat his vegetables on the grounds that they just weren’t a part of his diet, the memories of a time in his life when he would actually fantasize about being a werewolf.

Wolfsbane huffed, sat up on the bed, and began searching around in his pack. It didn’t take long for him to find what he was looking for. There, in a small paper bag wrapped up inside of one of his spare shirts, was his secret stash of beef jerky. There was one strip left, which he quickly consumed, watching the door as he did. He shouldn’t have had to do it that way, but Ren had long ago banned him from eating any sort of meat for a snack. That’s a werewolf habit, he had told him, slapping a pig’s foot out of the hand of the then-thirteen-year-old boy. Humans only eat meat as a meal. Don’t make me catch you acting like a freak again, kid. So, ever since that day, he had made it a point to not get caught. He hid his beef jerky and peeked almost paranoidly over his shoulder as he did, he bought it in small batches which he concealed deep within his bag, and he would always make sure that he was not being followed if he went to a sausage stand or a shish kabob cart for a quick snack. Beef jerky was always best for the restless something, though, and now he would have to sneak out and buy some more…after tonight.

Crumpling the paper bag in his hands, Wolfsbane lay back down on the bed. Now he could rest. He sighed, dumping the crumpled paper bag into the waste basket beside his bed, and stared up at the whirling blades of the ceiling fan until he finally fell asleep. This night, there would be no mistakes.

Chapter 2

The sun had sunken beyond the horizon a few short hours ago, and Wolfsbane and Ren had been following Theta’s tracks through the woods for the past forty five minutes. They were typical werewolf tracks, with the hind prints resembling almost in exactitude those of an oversized wolf except for the fact that there were five toes instead of the usual four, and the fore prints looking more like human hands than wolf paws. The tracks were fresh and they seemed to be right on Theta’s heels. Then, they suddenly heard a gut-wrenching scream come from their left, from the direction of the clearing where Vale, Helga, and Monty were setting the trap. Then came the sound of shots being fired as they rushed to the scene of the attack. Upon arriving in the clearing, Wolfsbane witnessed a scene which he had never thought possible.

Monty had been torn to bloody shreds, his oversized gun still clenched in the hand of his severed right arm. Vale lay lifeless against a tree, his throat torn open, blood still gushing from the wound, and Helga lay lifeless in the jaws of the monster, a gunshot wound at the side of her head the only evidence to suggest that she had probably killed herself after being bitten. Wolfsbane and Ren stared briefly in shock and horror, then raised their rifles simultaneously as Theta dropped Helga’s lifeless corpse and began to turn his attention to them. Before either of them could pull the trigger, Theta pounced on Ren with incredible speed. Wolfsbane turned quickly and fired two consecutive shots at Theta before the beast lunged at him as well, knocking him to the ground and his gun out of reach.

Thinking quickly, Wolfsbane dodged Theta’s gnashing teeth and pulled his silver bladed dagger from the sheath on his jacket and began stabbing and slashing at the raging werewolf, heedless of the fact that he was now leaving himself open to Theta’s fangs and claws. He felt no pain as his opponent’s fangs and claws pierced the mythril mail lining of his jacket and the mythril gauntlets beneath and rent his flesh. The only things that he could feel at that moment were rage and determination.

They wrestled fiercely, rolling down a hill and into a clump of dense foliage, Wolfsbane battling for his life while Theta battled, no doubt, for another notch on his belt. ‘Bastard! You’ve murdered for the last time!’ Wolfsbane thought, stabbing the beast through his stomach at the earliest opportunity, twisting the knife as if to emphasize his message. Theta knocked him down one last time and bit into Wolfsbane’s shoulder. Then, finally, he weakened and fell seemingly unconscious. Wolfsbane pushed the dying werewolf off of him and staggered to his feet, struggling to catch his breath. He had done it.

Bendis! Ren’s voice suddenly called to him from behind, growing louder as he drew closer. Bendis, are you O.K.?

Wolfsbane turned around, he was out of breath and covered in blood, but he didn’t feel as if he had been wounded. Ren? I…I thought you’d been killed too, he huffed. I’m fine… But Theta isn’t.

Ren’s relieved grin turned quickly to a look of disappointment, though, as he looked Wolfsbane up and down, over and over.

What? Wolfsbane asked. What’s wrong? You weren’t bitten, were you?

Ren shook his head. No, I came out without a scratch. It’s you who got bitten. Don’t you feel your wounds?

What?! N-no, that’s impossible, Wolfsbane said as he looked down at himself, seeing and feeling his injuries for the first time. "No! No-no-no-no, NOOO!!"

"Heh, heh, heh!! Yes…boy!! A growling, sinister voice taunted from behind him, You’re just… like ME… now!!"

This was Wolfsbane’s, no any werewolf hunter’s, worst nightmare. He had just been bitten and clawed by a werewolf. He was going to become a werewolf himself now unless…unless he destroyed himself before the rising of the next full moon. He now had to choose between continuing life as a monster, or ending his life here and now.

Ren raised his gun reluctantly and pointed it at him. Bendis, kid, if you can’t do it yourself, just say the word and I’ll do it for you. I won’t let you become one of them, I promise.

"You’re too… scared to die, BOY!!! Theta wheezed. You…can’t…fight it!!! I…I was in your place…once—"

Bendis don’t listen to him!! He just wants to see you suffer!!

I…chose this life! I…know you want it—

Ignore him, Bendis!!

The strength—

Bendis!!

The power!!

Bendis, Don’t!!

You’ve…always…wanted i—

A gunshot rang out. Wolfsbane turned and saw Theta lying there dead with a bullet hole straight through his skull. One monster down…one to go.

You have two options, Wolfsbane, Ren said calmly. You can either end your own life, or I end it for you. There’s only two more nights before the next full moon, then you become a werewolf, just like Theta! I know you. I know you don’t want that.

I… Wolfsbane’s voice was barely above a whisper. The normally cool and collected young man was visibly shaken; his will to live and his werewolf hunter’s training were pulling him in opposite directions. I’ll…I’ll do it myself. Just before sunset two days from now. I’m not ready yet. I need to send word to my family, tell them what happened. I have to make sure that I’ve taken care of a few personal details as well. I’ll be ready to die in two days, no less.

Ren lowered his gun. Then I guess this is goodbye, kid. I’d help you, but you’re not human anymore. You understand, don’t you?

Wolfsbane nodded and watched as Ren simply walked away. He wasn’t human anymore. The moment that Theta’s fangs and claws tore into him and drew blood, his human life was over. He was becoming a werewolf now. Nothing could change that, nothing could cure him, and nothing could save him from completing the change except for death. But he was scared. He didn’t think that he really would be ready to die by the next full moon. But, if he didn’t end his life by then, he would become the one thing that he most hated in the world. Wolfsbane fell to his knees, hung his head in despair, and began doing something that he hadn’t done in a very long time. He cried.

§§§

Junium 15, 1043

Wolfsbane never went back into town to get his belongings. As far as he was concerned, those things belonged to an entirely different person. In his mind, he was no longer Wolfsbane Bendis, an X-5 werewolf hunter. Now, he was merely Wolfsbane, a doomed soul on a path that, no mater what he did, would lead to his demise. It had already been two days since he had been cursed. His wounds had healed at a truly inhuman pace and the instincts of a wild animal had begun to awaken within him. His sense of smell had enhanced so dramatically that he could recognize the individual scents of the wild creatures around him and his sense of hearing was so acute now that he could practically hear a twig snapping underneath a mouse’s paws nearly fifty feet away. He had traveled as far from any signs of civilization as he possibly could. He hadn’t eaten or bathed or even taken a look at his reflection in days and he had long since abandoned the remains of his armor, now only clothed in his boots and the battle torn and bloodied black pants and shirt he had worn beneath. He had never even sent word to his family of his unfortunate fate. He couldn’t stand to. He couldn’t stand the thought of his parents and siblings finding out what he was becoming. He couldn’t even stand knowing that himself.

He disgusted himself. He was repulsed by the cravings for raw, blood-soaked meat that rose up every time he saw a pheasant or a deer cross his path, whetting the already unbearably hungry young man’s appetite. He hated himself for wanting to chase down and rip into rabbits as if he were some kind of animal. He had sickened himself when he had successfully caught a chipmunk and had nearly bitten the creature in two before he was able to come to his senses and let the defenseless little creature go. The worst part was that he had truly wanted to eat it. He would have gulped that chipmunk down in two, maybe three, bites and enjoyed it. He reviled himself for it, and yet, there was a part of him that despised it even more that he had stopped himself.

‘This is it,’ Wolfsbane thought, sitting dejectedly under a willow tree near the edge of a florid meadow. ‘It’s either die with some shred of my humanity left, or live and become a monster!’

There’s no way out of this one. Either way I’m dead, he said to himself hopelessly.

Don’t say things like that, a voice said not far to his right. There’s always hope, even in the darkest hour.

Wolfsbane turned his head suddenly, startled at the sound of another person speaking to him. However, what he saw was definitely not a human being as he had expected. Though, the being’s form was humanoid. The creature had short, thick, golden-brown fur covering his body, which was clothed in a loose-fitting white tunic and pants. His face was almost human except for a longish, tapered muzzle and a pair of rather friendly red eyes. His hair was long, wavy, and deep blue. His ears were large and pointed—almost fox-like—and his three long, fluffy tails waved lazily to and fro as the strange being smiled at Wolfsbane with a genuine-looking kindness.

So sorry I didn’t introduce m’self properly, the creature said cheerfully. Falor Danek’s the name, he extended a furry hand towards Wolfsbane in greeting, Half of me’s velvend, the other’s human.

Wolfsbane looked Falor up and down carefully one last time, shifting away from him uncomfortably as he’d extended his hand. He had heard much of velvends, fae beasts of the fields and forests who often made off with livestock and small children in the night. He had been taught to be extra wary of velvends, or any creature with velvend blood. After all, they couldn’t be trusted within an inch of their lives.

Falor’s ears flopped down a bit and he retracted his hand slowly, a sad look upon his face as he did so. What’s the matter? I’ll admit I’m not exactly the most handsome critter for miles, but I never thought to see someone flinch from me so readily, he said, he truly did sound disappointed. I mean, it’s not like I’m ’bout ta steal your soul or anathin’, I’m just honestly being friendly like.

But, you’re a velvend, Wolfsbane said, still on his guard. "I’ve always been told that velvends can’t be trusted…But then again, I’ve always been told that all werewolves are evil, but…"

Wha’ happened? You can tell me, that’s what I’m here for, Falor said sympathetically, sitting down beside Wolfsbane.

"Well, I am…I was a werewolf hunter, the best of the best. It’s the family business, so to speak. But, recently, I was bitten while subduing a particularly dangerous werewolf—"

And now you’re becomin’ one, eh? Falor interrupted. Tha’s got ta be tough.

It is. Especially since the werewolf hunter’s code clearly states that if a werewolf hunter is bitten by a werewolf himself, he must end his own life, Wolfsbane said solemnly.

Ya mean suicide!! Falor said in shock. Take yer own life b‘fore ya take someone else’s or some crap like that?! That’s just foolishness!!

It is the duty of a werewolf hunter to eradicate any and all werewolves, even if it means killing someone close to him, or himself, Wolfsbane explained. The only problem is that I’m not ready to die yet, but tonight I’ll become a werewolf if I don’t send a silver bullet through a vital organ by sunset!

So your whole view o’ things is bein’ challenged now and yer not sure whether becomin’ a werewolf really does mean becomin’ a monster, is that it?

Wolfsbane nodded sadly, I don’t know what’s worse, becoming a dangerous, bloodthirsty monster or being dead. I’m terrified of either outcome. But, with becoming a werewolf, at least I know what to expect. Death? I’m not so sure about…

Then take a chance on becomin’ a werewolf, Falor advised. "I’ll bet it’s better than being dead. Besides, not all werewolves are monsters, just a few psychos."

"How do you know?! Wolfsbane snapped. How long have you studied ancient texts and memorized verses from the code?! How many werewolves have you risked your life against for the future of humanity, huh?!! How many, damn it?!!"

Ta tell ya the truth, none, Falor said with a shrug. But I know not all werewolves are bad ’cause all people aren’t bad, and werewolves are, after all, just people. That’s how I see things anyway.

"Werewolves are not people! Wolfsbane protested, despairing as he heard a slight growl in his voice. They are animals! Monsters!! They can’t feel human emotions! No love, no kindness, no remorse…Just blood thirst and monstrous instinct!"

If ya really feel that way, then ya should have had no trouble blowin’ your brains out, should ya? Falor said, sitting down in front of Wolfsbane casually. There’s no shame in doubtin’ what ya’ve been taught—

"What about ignoring it and becoming the kind of freak that you’ve been trained all your life to kill?! I’ve killed close to a hundred werewolves in my lifetime and never felt anything about it, but now my duty is to destroy myself and I don’t even have the guts to wound myself!! Do you know how embarrassing that is for an X-5 werewolf hunter?!! Do you know what kind of disgrace and shame I could bring to my family if this got out?!!! It’s almost like I’m turning my back on everyone I’ve ever cared about by letting myself live!!!"

But you need ta live, Falor said gently. The reason why ya can’t bring yerself ta kill yerself is because ya know that it’s not yer time yet. Who knows, maybe you were even meant to be a werewolf—

How can you say that?!! Wolfsbane yelled. Do you know why my father named me ‘Wolfsbane?’ It’s because he knew that I would be the greatest werewolf hunter to ever walk the earth!!

Well, that’s a lot o’ high expectations, huh? Falor interrupted. Talk about a high-pressure childhood…

It is expected that every child born of my line becomes a great werewolf hunter, Wolfsbane explained, but the highest hopes are always pinned on the second sons. I was on the path to fulfilling those hopes before Theta ruined me! I became a professional werewolf hunter at the age of ten, by age fourteen I had obtained an X-5 ranking, the highest that you can achieve as far as rankings are concerned, the best of the best!! Now look at me! I’m on the brink of becoming the same sort of monster I was raised to kill, that I swore a solemn oath to destroy at all costs!!

Killin’ since you were only ten?! Falor cried, his voice filled with shock and pity. Ya’ve wasted your whole life hunting werewolves…You needed this. I’m not saying that ya deserve ta be sufferin’ the way you are, but you needed this ta happen to ya.

I needed this?!! Wolfsbane exclaimed, just barely holding back another anguished growl.

Just hear me out, Wolfie, Falor said, trying to calm the visibly shaken young man. "You don’t mind if I call ya ‘Wolfie’ now, do ya? Anyway, you needed this ta happen so you could stop killing people, not start it, understand? I’m pretty sure that lots o’ the werewolves you slew were probably evil, but lots more were probably just good people who, through no fault o’ their own, just happened ta transform when the moon was full. I know it’s hard ta accept the fact that you’re not completely human, I’ve been through that sort of trouble myself, but ya really should look at this in a positive way."

Wolfsbane looked away from Falor as his words began to sink in. Maybe Falor was right about a few things. He seemed to be just a simple country bumpkin, maybe he couldn’t even read, but just because he lacked the intense years of study which Wolfsbane had been through did not mean that he was a fool…not necessarily. In fact, maybe he was the fool for following along like a blind sheep until now.

Maybe you’re right, Falor, Wolfsbane said calmly and quietly as he stared up at the sky through the branches of the willow tree. I need to take this risk, to find out the truth. But, if the truth turns out to be what I’ve been told all along, he added, taking his pistol from the holster at his hip and handing it to Falor, "you have to kill me. I don’t want to live if it means living as a monster, do you hear me?"

Falor reluctantly took the weapon from Wolfsbane. I promise you that, he said with a sigh, but somethin’ tells me I won’t have ta make good on that promise any time soon, my friend.

Wolfsbane looked Falor in the eyes as soon as he said that. What did you just call me? he asked, somewhat startled. After all, he never thought that he would ever be called friend by anyone ever again.

I called ya my friend, Wolfie, Falor said with a kind smile, and I truly mean what I said.

You can call me ‘friend’ all you want, but don’t call me ‘Wolfie’, Wolfsbane said. I don’t like it. Not one bit.

But ‘Wolfsbane’ just seems such a morbid name for a werewolf, Falor insisted. In fact, no offense but, that is the creepiest name I’ve heard on anyone.

A sad half smile came across Wolfsbane’s face. Things were starting to look up…for the time being, anyway. At the very least, he would not die alone.

Chapter 3

The sun was ominously close to setting that evening, the golden hues of dwindling sunlight bringing an eerie beauty to the meadow as pink and violet tinted clouds floated lazily above them. Falor was calm and totally at ease, reclining in the fields with a long blade of grass in his mouth and his legs crossed nonchalantly. Wolfsbane, on the other hand, was on the verge of panic. For the past hour or so he had been pacing nervously, fidgeting and worrying more and more the closer the sun came to setting.

Relax, Falor said for about the fiftieth time, you’ll be fine, Wolfie. Trust me.

Relax?! Wolfsbane nearly yelped. How can I relax when I’m only minutes away from becoming one of the most dangerous creatures in existence?! I don’t want this to happen to me, it shouldn’t be happening to me!! He growled without thinking and he could feel his animal instincts becoming stronger by the minute. Damn it, if I weren’t such a coward I would be good and dead right now instead of going through this!! This is pure hell!! Why did I have to listen to you?!! Wolfsbane looked up at the horizon and shuddered. The sun was now halfway below the horizon. Time was running out.

Just calm down and let what ever’s ta happen happen, Falor said calmly. Fate’s dealt you a complicated hand ta play, but worryin’ over it will only cause ya ta lose the game. Just let yourself transform. You can worry just as much as ya want after that.

Just then, Wolfsbane felt his heart begin to race. Looking up, he could see the sun was just barely peeking over the horizon and, to him, disappearing very quickly. He began hyperventilating and could feel his blood burning as the change began taking place. He could feel everything—the fur growing all over his body, his nails becoming razor sharp claws, his teeth becoming sharp enough to tear through human flesh, his spine extending into a tail, his ears changing shape and moving up the sides of his head, his feet morphing into a shape that was closer to a wolf’s hind feet than a human’s, his face stretching and contorting as his nose and jaws formed a muzzle. He felt every painful detail of the transformation, which only became more painful when he tried to fight it.

The pain drove him to his knees…to the ground as he suffered in the throes of the transformation, his mind being forcibly inundated with a sudden and unstoppable surge of animal instinct. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the pain subsided. His transformation was complete.

Wolfsbane felt something well up inside of him then, something that forced its way up from his very soul. He growled trying to keep it in, but in the end it was too much to contain and he let loose a soul-shattering, gut-wrenching howl. The sound pierced the night like a knife, echoing through the wilderness as if to announce his presence to all of creation.

Wolfie, are ya alright? Wolfsbane could hear Falor asking. "Because I really don’t want ta have ta shoot ya."

Wolfsbane just stumbled back to his feet and stood there, still in shock from his transformation. ‘I’m…still in control of my body,’ he thought, making a careful evaluation of his current status. ‘My clothes are completely shredded…what was left of them anyway…’ He unconsciously lashed his tail to the side in thought. ‘Whoa. That felt weird.’

Hellooo, Falor to Wolfie, do ya read me?

Wolfsbane began looking himself over reluctantly. His fur was thick and stormy gray and lustrous, very long on his tail and short on his face, hands, and paws. He ran his hands across his face again and again, trying to get used to the fact that it was more wolf than human now.

Wolfsbane?!

He turned around quickly at the sound of his name, as if he was hearing it called for the first time in his life. Falor looked worried, as if he just may have to make good on his promise, his large, pointy ears pricked up alertly. Falor? What’s the matter? Wolfsbane asked, cocking his head to the side. Then jerked upright again at the slightly deeper sound of his voice.

Falor breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently nothin’, he said, settling back into his regular laid-back mood. Don’t worry me like that! What was wrong with ya anyway? You were actin’ like ya’d gotten into a batch o’ red toad mushrooms!

Sorry, I just completely spaced out, Wolfsbane said, his attention slowly turning to his hands. "This is completely new to me. I mean…I have a tail now!!"

But no urge ta tear people apart, right?

Wolfsbane nodded slowly and replied, "But now that I think about it, I am pretty hungry. I haven’t eaten since supper three nights ago…" His voice trailed off as he felt his instincts coming through once more. Wolfsbane shut his eyes tight and shook his head slowly, trying to make the urge to hunt disappear.

What’s the matter? Falor asked. It’s your hunting instinct, isn’t it?

I don’t want to end up killing someone, Wolfsbane said quickly, "but I’m also really hungry. Besides, what if I like it? The killing? What then?"

I’ll go with you, Falor said cheerfully. I missed lunch anyway.

Falor began heading into the woods, gesturing for Wolfsbane to follow. Taking the hint, Wolfsbane took one step forward and subsequently lost his balance and fell down on all fours. After getting up, trying to walk erect, and ending up on all fours three more times, he decided to give the venture up for the moment and followed Falor into the woods. ‘This is embarrassing,’ he thought with a dejected whimper. ‘Here I am walking on all fours like an animal. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I keep my balance when I try to walk on two legs?’

Wolfsbane sighed and started sniffing the air instinctively. Falor was only a little bit ahead of him, walking confidently on two legs and seemingly amused at Wolfsbane’s inability to do so. He picked up the scents of night-blooming flowers and the smell of trees and grasses and mosses on the evening breeze. Wolfsbane sniffed again, searching for the scent of prey, trusting his instincts only about halfway as he trod slowly behind Falor.

Well, that’s strange, Falor said, stopping suddenly and looking back at Wolfsbane. I wonder where all the animals went. Do ya think mayhaps your howlin’ scared ‘em all off?

"If they did all run, Wolfsbane said, sitting on his haunches, again without thinking, they were smart to do so. So, what now?"

Well, there’s always fishin’, Falor said with a grin. At least they can’t rush out o’ the lake if they hear ya howl, eh, Wolfie?

Wolfsbane nodded. I guess that’s true, he said thoughtfully, then anxiously added, "But can we hurry? I’ve never been so hungry in my entire life!"

Falor laughed and began leading the way once more, this time heading westward through the forest. Wolfsbane followed close behind, still sniffing the air every now and again just in case he could pick up the scent of a rabbit or a deer nearby. As they neared the lake, he could smell something on the air besides the smell of water, which was indeed becoming stronger as they went along. The closer they got, the more he recognized the smell and the more excited he became, until he began running ahead of Falor at breakneck speed. ‘Prey!’ he thought single-mindedly as he neared the lake, his hunger and his instincts overriding any human thoughts which may have crossed his mind.

Dashing out of the woods, Wolfsbane instantly locked on to a large buck at the water’s edge and charged wildly at the animal. His fangs tore into the buck’s throat, his claws sunk into the beast’s flesh as he grabbed hold of him. The taste of his prey’s blood whetted his appetite and he began tearing off large chunks of flesh, quite literally wolfing down his supper. In the end, he left nothing of the unfortunate creature but bones and a few scraps of hide.

For someone who’s afraid he’d enjoy hunting like an animal, Falor said from his left, you sure don’t seem ta be hesitatin’ ta chew on those bones.

Wolfsbane suddenly snapped back to his senses and looked down. As soon as he realized that he actually had begun gnawing on one of the deer’s leg bones, He dropped the bone from his mouth and began licking the blood from around his muzzle instead. Realizing, again, what he was doing he went to the edge of the lake, closed his eyes, and began taking a long, cool drink of water. He had to pull himself together!

So I’m assumin’ ya liked it, Falor said as he approached Wolfsbane slowly, from the way you—

I did what I had to, Wolfsbane interrupted. I killed. I ate. I’m full. That’s all there is to it.

It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Wolfie, Wolfsbane felt Falor beginning to scratch him behind the ears as he spoke, it felt kind of nice, it’s just the kind of thing you’ll have ta get used to.

Wolfsbane pulled away from Falor’s touch, inadvertently opening his eyes and catching a glimpse of his reflection in the water. His green eyes now had that eerie glow to them. His face truly was more like a wolf’s than a human’s but, oddly enough, his normal hair was still the same color as always—if a bit longer. He moved back from the water uneasily, his ears drooped down to the sides and his tail fell between his legs as he realized how much his mind and body really had been altered…how much he had changed. He really had enjoyed killing and eating that deer just a few moments ago. The taste of it still lingered on his tongue, its blood still stained his hands and his muzzle.

What have I become? Wolfsbane asked half to himself. What kind of monster am I?

You’re not a monster, Wolfie, Falor said, attempting to comfort him, You’re not exactly all the way human anymore, but I definitely wouldn’t call ya a monster.

"Then what am I? What the Hells am I, Falor?!"

You’re a werewolf.

Wolfsbane shook his head in dismay and frustration and began growling and pacing to and fro, his tail still tucked between his legs shamefully. ‘I’ve killed,’ he thought, whimpering like a dog, ‘I’ve tasted blood, and I enjoyed it! I’m a monster!’

Calm down, Falor said, trying to soothe the despairing young lycanthrope. Stop pacing like that. That’s not going ta help ya. Listen, I know how ya feel, I’ve been in your place and I know how ta handle this. Let me help ya, Wolfie. Please?

Wolfsbane stopped pacing. What do you know?! You’re nothing but some stupid half-breed!! he yelled, tears beginning to come down his face.

I used ta be afraid of my velvend side, just like you’re afraid of yer wolf side, Falor said calmly, obviously ignoring the half-breed comment. "In fact, I was so scared that I forced myself ta learn how ta take on a human form just so I didn’t have ta be reminded of what I was every time I looked in the mirror. Then, one day, I became so mad at someone for callin’ me a ‘half-breed freak,’ I lost it and changed into my true form in front of everyone. That was the day that I realized that I had ta stop hiding from my true self…That I had ta find out what my true self is."

And what did you do? Wolfsbane asked.

I left home and went wanderin’, and I’ve just been tryin’ my best ta figure my life out ever since.

But, you still don’t know who you really are?

No, I know who I am now, Falor said. I’m Falor Danek, half human, half velvend. Son of Alva Danek and some velvend she had a fling with when she was young. I love wide open spaces and thick forests and tall mountains and all manner of pastries, but I hate big cities and crowded places and bein’ stared at by people, and I don’t much mind bein’ called ‘half-breed’ or ‘freak’ anymore. I know who I am now. It took me five years o’ wanderin’ and a lot of big mistakes, but these past five years have been better than the fifteen I wasted tryin’ ta deny my true nature.

Wolfsbane did some quick math in his head. So, you’re twenty? he asked. If you are, then that means that we’re the same age…

So we are, Falor said with a shrug, and you’ve wasted that whole twenty years bein’ what yer family expected you ta be, instead of findin’ your own path. You’ve been given a second chance, and maybe a few extra problems ta work out…but anyway, you and I are goin’ ta be lookin’ after each other from now on. If you’ll stick around, that is…

I…guess I’ll give your way a try, Wolfsbane sighed as he stood up on two legs and unfurled his tail from between his legs. Besides, who else would accept me the way that I am now?

Maybe other werewolves, Falor said thoughtfully, "or someone who likes bein’ around werewolves…"

Falor’s apparent cluelessness amused Wolfsbane so much at the moment that he felt himself smiling just a bit. ‘Falor really isn’t the serious type, is he?’ he thought, ‘But I guess he’s alright, for a velvend—no, half-velvend. Right now, though, he’s the only friend that I’ve got.’

§§§

Sunrise came, and with it the shift back to human form. It was just as painful as the change that had taken place at nightfall, but Wolfsbane embraced this change, welcomed it, because it meant that he was much closer to being human than he had been under the light of the full moon…for now anyway. But, in a way, this transformation was also something of a rebirth for him, the beginning of a new life, with new challenges and new experiences to be had…and new dangers to face. Wolfsbane, now once again in human form, looked behind him to see Falor curled up on the grass, getting ready to fall asleep. Strangely enough, Wolfsbane felt no fatigue at all that morning, despite the fact that he had been awake all night.

‘I guess that werewolves just don’t need sleep when the moon is full,’ he thought, amazed that this one fact hadn’t been in any of the tomes which he had studied as a child. ‘I wonder what else I just don’t know about being a werewolf…what else I’ll find out.’

Yer really somethin’, Wolfie, Falor said, raising his head lazily from the ground, lookin’ all contemplative like when just a few hours ago you were lookin’ ta do yourself in. He smiled tiredly and continued, Just let me rest for a couple of hours, then I’ll show ya how ta change without a full moon starin’ down at ya. With that, he yawned and began settling back down.

Wait a minute, Wolfsbane said, "I don’t even want to change when the moon is full! Why would I want to change during the day?!"

"You may not want ta, Falor yawned, as he drifted off to sleep, but you may need ta some day. Ya never…know…"

Wolfsbane opened his mouth to protest, but then he noticed that Falor had already drifted off to sleep and any attempt to talk some sense into him would probably end with both of them talking nonsense. Sighing, Wolfsbane sat down next to his snoozing new friend and waited for him to finally awaken. In that time, he watched the clouds roll by and the birds and animals going about their daily business.

As the sun approached its apex, he took a short stroll around the meadow. This really was quite a peaceful place. There was not a city, town, village, or factory in sight. He could not even see a trace of steam from a locomotive at any point on the horizon. Every sign of civilization was miles away. This truly was the perfect place to hide away from the world…and at that moment, all Wolfsbane really wanted to do was hide.

Finally, nearly nine hours later, Falor began to awaken. Good mornin’, Wolfie, Falor said cheerfully as he yawned and stretched.

‘Good morning?’ Wolfsbane said, raising an eyebrow. It’s at least two in the afternoon, Falor.

Good afternoon, then. What’d ya have fer breakfast?

Nothing.

Brunch?

Nothing.

Lunch??

Nothing.

Tha’s no good, Wolfie, Falor chastised. Now, before I start teachin’ ya anythin’, ya need ta eat! Shapeshiftin’ takes a lot of concentration an’ energy, neither of which ya can have on an empty stomach!

I haven’t eaten because I’ve been waiting for you to wake up so that I could tell you that I don’t need to learn to change at will, Wolfsbane sighed.

Yes you do, Falor said. It’s actually a pretty handy skill ta have. Just think. Ya see a pretty girl in the forest pickin’ flowers, but you’re too shy ta go over to her in yer human form, so ya turn into a wolf and make like yer a cute doggy. Chicks dig sweet, friendly little doggies.

Wolves aren’t sweet friendly little doggies, Wolfsbane said seriously, they’re wild beasts.

But ya’ve got somethin’ a wolf ain’t, Falor said slyly, "a human mind, and with it the ability ta act."

Falor, that’s just crazy…and dangerous, Wolfsbane said, trying to get Falor to think seriously for one moment. I could hurt someone like that!

No room fer fear and doubt, Wolfie, Falor said as he subtlety wagged his finger at Wolfsbane, "and no more worries. You’re with me now."

Wolfsbane sighed as Falor rose from the ground and headed towards the lake, then followed along behind his new companion. There really was no way to change his mind, was there? This was going to be a long rest of his life…

Chapter 4

Julium 1, 1043

"Wolfie, please, ya have ta try again, Falor pleaded, his large, fox-like ears flopping down at the sides of his head. You were so close the last time! Ya just need ta concentrate a little more and put yer fears aside."

No…I’m not doing it again, Falor, Wolfsbane protested, catching his breath. It hurts, and every time I feel my fangs growing in…I feel like ripping something apart! No more trying to change at will, Falor. Not now, not ever!

The reason ya keep having trouble is ’cause every time yer fangs grow in ya start panickin’, Falor explained, his three long, floofy tails swishing side to side slowly as he crossed his arms, "and the reason it hurts when ya change is ’cause yer body’s still not used to it. Come on, Wolfie, just one more try an’ we’ll stop for today. Please?"

No, Falor, I can’t keep doing this, Wolfsbane said shaking his head. I just can’t do it.

Yes ya can, Falor replied encouragingly. Ya’ve only been a werewolf fer two weeks, ya know. You still need ta get used to yer fangs an’ learn ta embrace your inner wolf is all.

I can learn to accept it, Wolfsbane said looking over to his left, where he’d heard the faint sound of a small redflitt landing on one of the long blades of tall grass in the field, but I can never embrace it.

"But ya have to, Falor argued. Ya have to embrace yer wolf side and learn ta trust yer instincts. Look, I know it’s hard for ya, especially since ya used ta be a werewolf hunter an’ all, but that was all in the past. Yer not livin’ that life anymore, Wolfie, and ya’ve got ta adjust to the new life ya chose. Now please, try again?"

Wolfsbane—still not looking at his friend—brought his legs closer in to his body, put his arms around them, and gave a slight whimper. He shuddered a bit not half a second later. It