STORY: Going Naked
A short werewolf story. No objectionable content.
Arag would never have gone down to the dwelling-place of the humans otherwise, but there was something wrong with her cub. Her round human face had a pale unnatural hue as if she’d eaten something metallic, and she couldn’t do anything other than lie on the bedding in their lair and sob with pain. She was still little enough for Arag to give her suck. The milk seemed to make her hardier, but soon afterwards everything ran out of her and her screams were faint.
She would have to go naked. She laid her cub on the bedding of skins and crackling leaves -the cub cried and didn’t seem to notice- and crawled on her belly through the tunnel and out under the pale sky, because if she removed her hame in the lair it might harm her cub. It had no head and no mouth when it was uninhabited, but it had heavy paws with claws.
She closed her eyes and freed herself of the hame. It didn’t hurt, the only discomfort was a brief dizziness and the slow cold. The hame danced around her for a moment, confused now that it was cut off from her higher functions. It bounded down the forested hillside in disordered drifting leaps, like a leaf on the wind.
She crawled back into the lair, on the mud that had grown thorny with deep-frost. Without the hame, the cold was intrusive. She looked at her arms and saw that her hide had risen in a little peak around each hair, as if this body were trying to raise its hackles. Could it have been the cold that had made the cub ill? Arag put a few rabbit-skins around her with the dense fur-side inwards, then rooted through the bedding until she found the clothes. It must have been those she had worn when she came up to the hills from the human town: a straight black sheath for the legs, an upper part that was lighter, but spotted with wet dirt and rot. When she put the clothes on, they fit.
She held the child to her chest and crept out. The clouded sky darkened between the bare twigs and the hame was nowhere that she could see. She began her journey down the hillside.
Walking on two legs was not hard. She ought to have fallen over, but the bare body seemed built to stand on something so narrow. For that matter, her feet were longer than the paws, though they were thin. They suffered from the cold, but her soles were hardened the way her pads had been. She looked down at the child. The girl was asleep, if uneasy. Perhaps she felt that mother was taking her somewhere she could get warmth and help, or else it was the rhythm of her steps calming her.
It was late when she reached the town. She had come across a scree where she could have climbed if she’d had her hands free, but she had not been able to risk it when carrying the child.
In the town she wanted to creep, but if any humans saw her, they would think she was like they. She glimpsed yellow light through one of the square holes in the walls. It was like a visible heat. She held the child tight in her arms and hurried on until she saw a human rubbing a door with a wet cloth.
Arag didn’t know how to speak, but the human heard her and turned. It was a woman, with hair gone grey as if she wore part of a wolf-hame. Her expression was broken.
“Amala?” she said. ”Is that you?”
Arag understood the words, though she would not have been able to shape them herself. She pushed the infant into the arms of the woman, who grabbed it from instinct. She ran up the street where it narrowed against the outline of the mountain. The woman called behind her, and her voice cut her even though it was not loud. Once she fell onto all fours to run faster, but her bare forelegs were too short.
When she reached the bamboo groves on the forest edge, she opened some sense that only existed deep within her skull and called the hame. It took a while as she forced her way through the bamboo and the thickets, but soon she heard the sound of light paws on leaves in the dusk. She sank onto her haunches, and the reeking hame laid itself on her, warm as a mother’s arms. She felt the claws growing out of her fingers and her jawbone lengthening, and it didn’t hurt. When it was done she arched her back, took the clothes up in her mouth and bounded up the hill.
THE END
Arag would never have gone down to the dwelling-place of the humans otherwise, but there was something wrong with her cub. Her round human face had a pale unnatural hue as if she’d eaten something metallic, and she couldn’t do anything other than lie on the bedding in their lair and sob with pain. She was still little enough for Arag to give her suck. The milk seemed to make her hardier, but soon afterwards everything ran out of her and her screams were faint.
She would have to go naked. She laid her cub on the bedding of skins and crackling leaves -the cub cried and didn’t seem to notice- and crawled on her belly through the tunnel and out under the pale sky, because if she removed her hame in the lair it might harm her cub. It had no head and no mouth when it was uninhabited, but it had heavy paws with claws.
She closed her eyes and freed herself of the hame. It didn’t hurt, the only discomfort was a brief dizziness and the slow cold. The hame danced around her for a moment, confused now that it was cut off from her higher functions. It bounded down the forested hillside in disordered drifting leaps, like a leaf on the wind.
She crawled back into the lair, on the mud that had grown thorny with deep-frost. Without the hame, the cold was intrusive. She looked at her arms and saw that her hide had risen in a little peak around each hair, as if this body were trying to raise its hackles. Could it have been the cold that had made the cub ill? Arag put a few rabbit-skins around her with the dense fur-side inwards, then rooted through the bedding until she found the clothes. It must have been those she had worn when she came up to the hills from the human town: a straight black sheath for the legs, an upper part that was lighter, but spotted with wet dirt and rot. When she put the clothes on, they fit.
She held the child to her chest and crept out. The clouded sky darkened between the bare twigs and the hame was nowhere that she could see. She began her journey down the hillside.
Walking on two legs was not hard. She ought to have fallen over, but the bare body seemed built to stand on something so narrow. For that matter, her feet were longer than the paws, though they were thin. They suffered from the cold, but her soles were hardened the way her pads had been. She looked down at the child. The girl was asleep, if uneasy. Perhaps she felt that mother was taking her somewhere she could get warmth and help, or else it was the rhythm of her steps calming her.
It was late when she reached the town. She had come across a scree where she could have climbed if she’d had her hands free, but she had not been able to risk it when carrying the child.
In the town she wanted to creep, but if any humans saw her, they would think she was like they. She glimpsed yellow light through one of the square holes in the walls. It was like a visible heat. She held the child tight in her arms and hurried on until she saw a human rubbing a door with a wet cloth.
Arag didn’t know how to speak, but the human heard her and turned. It was a woman, with hair gone grey as if she wore part of a wolf-hame. Her expression was broken.
“Amala?” she said. ”Is that you?”
Arag understood the words, though she would not have been able to shape them herself. She pushed the infant into the arms of the woman, who grabbed it from instinct. She ran up the street where it narrowed against the outline of the mountain. The woman called behind her, and her voice cut her even though it was not loud. Once she fell onto all fours to run faster, but her bare forelegs were too short.
When she reached the bamboo groves on the forest edge, she opened some sense that only existed deep within her skull and called the hame. It took a while as she forced her way through the bamboo and the thickets, but soon she heard the sound of light paws on leaves in the dusk. She sank onto her haunches, and the reeking hame laid itself on her, warm as a mother’s arms. She felt the claws growing out of her fingers and her jawbone lengthening, and it didn’t hurt. When it was done she arched her back, took the clothes up in her mouth and bounded up the hill.
THE END