Scraps
In this brief excerpt of Juan C. Moreno's story from WEREWOLVES VERSUS: FASHION, an act of human kindness is repaid with inhuman generosity.
The teen scanned the trees. I froze, and so did she when she found me. We stared at each other, each waiting for the other to move first.
“Shawna, is everything okay?” a woman asked from the nearest cabin. “Shawna?”
I bolted and settled into nearby cover while Shawna was distracted.
“Yeah, Mom, just a rabbit,” Shawna said. “No worries.”
With my heightened hearing, it was easy to pick up conversations inside the cabin, even from a distance. Shawna never mentioned me to her mother that afternoon, or to her father when he returned with a pair of rabbits. As the family cooked dinner, I hid in the darkness and listened.
Every night, I overheard their laughter, their hardships, and their warmth. It always made me smile, just peeking into their lives and seeing love. They weren’t werewolves, but they seemed kind.
I followed them as the days turned brisk and their supplies stretched thin. The first snowflakes of the year fell, and I was thankful for my winter fur. It made nights of eavesdropping bearable, but it did nothing for the cold I felt inside.
Whenever I could, I left rabbits at the woodpile for Shawna. She always looked around and whispered her thanks.
One night, Shawna’s father said a storm was coming, so he and Shawna planned to hunt the next day. That morning, I watched them get ready from afar. Before they left, Shawna placed a bundle on the wood-chopping stump.
When they disappeared, I snatched the bundle and retreated.
Inside I found a pair of ripped jeans and an old flannel shirt. There was a note, too.
“Don’t know if you get cold. I hope everything fits, it’s all we can spare,” it read.
Aside from the gown I still carried, I wasn’t much different from an animal. But there, holding that shirt, I knew it wasn’t too late for me. I was more than a wolf or a girl, and I didn’t have to be alone anymore.
I heard a distant shot, and I soon found the hunters and their prey. Unfortunately, while Shawna had mortally wounded the elk, it ran over a steep cliff before expiring. With no easy way to retrieve it and the storm closing in, the hunters reluctantly abandoned their kill, probably praying their traps had caught enough food to last them.
It took me all day in the blowing snow to recover the elk, and a few hours more at night to reach the cabins. Thanks to my coat and clothes, I didn’t mind.
I knocked on the door. Despite the wind, I heard the family freeze. A rifle bolt clacked, and there were urgent whispers. I hid behind the elk as the door creaked open. Light blinded me, and Shawna’s mother gasped.
“So,” Shawna’s father said, “you’re the one to thank for the extra food in our pot? And, it seems like we owe you a helluva lot more.” He pointed to the elk and lowered his rifle. “Where are my manners? Come inside, it’s freezing.”
The Hawkins family welcomed me with open arms, not seeming to mind my... nature. They told me everything about the world, everything I’d missed. Just as autumn turned to winter, the world had changed. Darkness, death, and cold gripped everyone.
I could have stayed alone, living a wolf’s life. I’m not sure how long I would have lasted, but I could’ve done it.Civilization was in chaos, not my woods. However, the part of me that kept the tattered gown and accepted Shawna’s gift knew it wasn’t right. I couldn’t run away forever.
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More of Juan's work can be found here and here.