Halfway Happy Hello (Grace and Victor)
lovelysummerwolf
We are here. But i am not.
In my defense, I’m closer than I usually am. I am not away, in one thousand other hours, trapped in my own head. I’m right here. But Grace is not. Grace is back just a few paces, electing to disassociate, and to stay floating somewhere between the ghost of peppermint in her nostrils and the phantom of warmth on her face, radiating from her nose on out as she enters the Crooked Shelf, treats in tow. We are here. But Victor is not. In Victor’s defense, it’s f**king freezing outside, and Grace’s coat isn’t quite as warm as it looks. In fact, it makes Victor wonder how Grace keeps from shifting too. Some cynical part of Victor injects his brain with the thought of “well, you won’t have to wonder for long.” as the shift throws him to his knees and wrenches his spine into an arc. He looks to Grace, in panic and in pain. This process has never once been easy for Victor. Just like Sam, Victor feels every bone grind, every organ twist, and every hair pierce his skin as his humanity is ripped from his aching grasp. Grace, on the other hand…well Grace was just gone. With nothing more than a soft huff into the frigid air, Grace, or rather, i, let my humanity slip through my fingers like a fine silk. This impossible form of mine embraces me and i willingly run to it’s escape, and allow my body to be stolen by the wolf. By the next blink of my own eyes, I’m on all fours, hackles raised, snarl rumbling, ready to defend my beloved brother, fighting his losing battle with himself on the ground. By the next blink, i smell him before i see him, the familiar, intoxicating aroma of pine and moss, of wet earth and of warmth enveloping me, clogging my other senses. My snarl is cut off sharply into a whimper, almost a yelp, as though the air has bitten me. I feel the pack surrounding us and i know in me somewhere there’s a good chance they won’t know us anymore. I back up towards Victor, on guard, but hope shining in my eyes. There’s an eternity of silence between us and the snowfall. Then, like the shadow he’s always been to me, he steps from the woods and looks me in the eyes, a lifetime, Our lifetime, written across his face.
Sam.
herwinterwolf
Grace’s stance loosens as I nuzzle my head into hers. My eyes are closed, savoring the moment. It feels as if at any time the moment could break, like glass. The wind swirls quietly and softly around us, and I am acutely aware that we are still not alone. Not only does Victor stand not five feet away, but the pack surrounds us, having followed me.
It may look like a sappy reunion to them, but to me it’s everything.
Its been months - no - years since I’ve been able to nuzzle Grace like this. Since I’ve been able to give her my comfort and warmth. She is always so strong, and I admire her for it, but I know there’s a weak spot in both of us.
The day I disappeared was the day a piece of my heart shattered. The piece is a large one- the love I hold for Grace. I did not want to leave her for such a long time, but at the time it was necessary. I had heard the other members that stayed behind in Mercy Falls calling my name, endlessly searching for me. But I could not have returned without my summer girl.
It was almost spring, just barely cold enough to keep us wolves for very much longer, and my excitement couldn’t be contained. I longed to hold Grace again, to kiss her forehead, to stay up and laugh and listen to her read to me the stories she loved so much. Those are my favorite times.
I open my eyes after such a long moment that I’m not sure how much time has passed, and I see Victor still standing quietly behind us, watching. The only sounds are the faint wind and the slow beating of Grace’s heart in my ears.
I smile through my golden eyes at Victor, and I swear he smiles back. Although we’ve had some rough patches, Victor is always there for me. And I appreciate him for always being there for Grace in my absence.
As I release myself from the sweet smell of Grace, the pack emerges from the woods, and I feel Grace’s body stiffen once more.
I can’t let them hurt anyone. I can’t let this be the never ending feud.
I position myself between Grace and Victor and the pack, and I put up a stance.
No one is fighting here tonight.
baranova-victor
The air is thick with an unspoken tension in the woods that are not just woods, filled with wolves who aren’t only wolves. Grace’s body stands in front of me, a tall and proud statue shielding me from the wolf in front of us as I join her in species. Body aching as it adjusts to its new form, I peer around Grace and the wolf’s eyes lock with my own – searing golden eyes piercing into my own with so much intention and familiarity and emotion.
Sam. Sam. Sam. He’s really here. Sam.
His muzzle rests against Grace in a way that speaks all the words that could have never been said aloud. I love you, welcome home.
I sense them before I see them – footsteps present in the undergrowth of the trees, surrounding us from all angles. I should’ve been expecting it. Wherever Sam goes, the pack can’t be far behind. They have always been his silent protectors, his body guards. Even if they are merely in the background.
Serious, deep eyes meet my own through the density of the leaves. Beck. He emerges from the brush, head held high in confident leadership. Soon after, the others trod softly into the clearing, omnipresent in both our minds and in physical formation. Every bone in my body aches to join them. I have to keep repeating the mission in my head. Find Sam. Bring Sam back. Find Sam. Bring Sam back.
Beck’s eyes squint at us with mild curiosity in an abruptly human gesture, head cocked to the side. Sam’s eyes flicker to his, and back to Grace. I can see the internal conflict inside of him. How hard it is to leave the only father he’s ever known, after being reunited again. But it isn’t a choice for him. It never was, and never will be. Grace is the axis of which his world spins. The gravitational force keeping him grounded. His sun and moon.
A flash of reddish brown fur catches my attention, lingering towards the back of the pack. Familiar green eyes stare back at me. Cole. The name is like a sudden slap t the face in my wolf brain, recognition from another life foreign, yet present. An emotion I don’t recognize in this life floods me, and I can’t help but stare back at him, mesmerized like so many others who have been in the presence of Cole St. Clair.
Sam. Sam! After all that, it’s come to Sam. My unbridled joy nearly renders me useless, my body becoming loose and bouncy with recognition, my muscles relaxing, my guard slowly lowering as the sun that rises in my east and sets in my west steps out from behind the trees. When he steps into me, nuzzling his head against mine and whining softly, that is when I’m truly lost, and in the same breath, found. Again i am spiraling into the thousand more moments. Ones we’ll get to have now that we’ve found Sam. Now we’ll be able to be together As a family as a pack, and run into the Boundary Woods together, i- I am forced to sever my own thoughts, the Wolf Now Outside of Grace taking control where it’s unwelcome. I know I have to be careful. With every shift, I give her more and more power. Someday, she’ll wipe me from my own mind and leave me out here in the woods. My lupine form has no capacity for the emotions my still so human mind is experiencing, and my body is convulsing with what feels like tears of joy, though my face remains completely dry. Victor, bless him, brings me back yet again, when a white she-wolf slinks out into the group. Victor’s body is wracked with a growl so mighty it nearly knocks him over. My eyes snap open at his tone and my mind switches off completely, The Wolf Outside of Grace overriding my every thought and emotion. She takes over completely and contorts my body into a terror, something large and mean and willing to take blood. Only one wolf could ever make me react this way. Shelby. Just as quickly as I returned to my body, I am a ghost again, watching an impressively small and tawny wolf snarl and snap at a stark white and gaunt pack member a few yards away. I am a ghost, and as ghosts do, I can feel myself slipping away. I can no longer tell who was the outsider and who wasn’t. The tawny wolf seemed a natural fit for the pack. The white wolf seemed unhinged somehow, like something wasn’t quite right. Yet, she was powerful. I hear no sounds, but i watch the little tawny wolf react to them. She’s scared, but brave. Loving, yet there’s brutality on her breath. I wonder absently who she is. Who she was. I wonder why the yellow eyed wolf looks at her that way. I wonder why the large black wolf isn’t more alarmed. I wonder why the two behind her are oblivious to her outburst, now that they’ve spotted one another. The little tawny wolf lunges forward at the white she wolf, then backs away again, teasing her. The Grace Inside the Wolf lays down to sleep.
Reality seems like a dream as I watch Grace lunge toward Shelby, my heartstrings are pulled by sadness as Grace’s face no longer looks like her own, but rather a stranger I have yet to recognize.
Grace’s wolf form has fully taken over her mind.
When we go full wolf, we no longer think or care about our actions, everything is only justified by bloodshed and pain.
I watch as Grace’s eyes wander back and forth between Shelby and Beck, her muzzle pulled back into a snarl. Behind her, Victor, now in our same familiar form, shoulder checks her multiple times, trying to break her of her stance.
I take a few steps forward and watch as her eyes switch onto me, still keeping the same menacing snarl she had toward Shelby and Beck. I keep going closer despite my obvious hesitation and fear that she might come after me. Grace, although small and lean, has a muscle mass and a confidence I’ve only ever seen from her.
I stand about a foot away from Grace now, and I stare into her honeysuckle brown eyes; I’m no psychic, but I hope the good vibes I’m sending her way reach her, and that we can communicate without words, and that she will remember who stands in front of her.
This is every wolf’s worst nightmare, completely succumbing to the form, not being able to think for one’s self and just walking like a zombie, completely trapped in one’s own mind.
Victor then howls in pain as his form begins to change again, back into the stance of the two legged people we once were as well.
Victor’s breath catches in his throat, and I watch as he breathes heavily, hands on his knees, and looks up slowly at me.
“Sam, you have to come back with us...” he says, his breath ragged, “They’re planning to slaughter the lot of you--the Culpepers.”
My ears perk up and my eyes switch from Victor to Beck. Beck’s face never changes, but you can see the obvious frustration and anger on his face.
He doesn’t want me to become human again.
I want to be with Grace with every fiber in my being, but Beck has always been like a father to me.
My eyes stagger between them.
“Did you not hear me? Isabel’s father has a group of hunters together, they’re going to attack soon if you don’t come talk some sense into them with us!” Victor’s voice is full of anguish and sadness, I watch as a single shining tear appears at his right eye, but as soon as it appears, it’s wiped away.
Victor was never one to show sadness.
I look at the ground and ponder, but I know what I must do.
The pain begins slowly, but increases over time.
I must become a human again.