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Another point of view post. This one is longer.
Nosy waits just inside of the tree line. The scents were old. No one has been here for a long time. Not since last autumn when the largest wolf she ever saw came to her mother. His grey furred body was covered in scars. Her mate was dead, the sept alpha told her. Nosy’s mother already knew. The pack heard the Howl of the Departed echo from the caern. The grey wolf left Nosy’s mother with her grief and her pups.
Nosy waited until moonrise and approached the house. Another memory surfaced. It was summer. It was hot. No water could be found. Nosy’s mother lead her young pups to this house. She left them hiding in the bushes and scratched on the door. A human opened. There was no gun in his hand. No rake or bat. He was unsurprised by the wolf at the door. He went around the house and did something with a green snakelike tube. Water, precious water, poured out of the green snake’s round mouth. He filled a shiny tub with water. Nosy smelt him. He was Garou, those who walked on two and four feet. A protector of Gaia. And though the scent was faint, Nosy could smell the father of the pack. This Garou was her father.
The mother of the pack denned the pups under the Garou’s house during the drought. Each morning and evening, the tub was filled with water. The Garou would run on four legs with Nosy’s mother and bring back meat. Nosy looked up at the entrance of her father’s den. The stairs were as tall as she was. She waited that evening until her father refilled the water tub. She followed stealthy, close at his heels into his den. The Garou was deaf and dumb when he walked on two legs. He never noticed Nosy at his heels. The door shut behind her.
In the here and now, Nosy raised up on her hind legs and dropped her paws on the door handle. The door clicked open. Nosy nosed her way into the house. The kitchen was in disarray. The cupboards emptied and left hanging open. Nosy sat before a closed one- a large white one, almost as tall as her father when he stood on two legs.
More memories. Nosy watched her father hum to himself and retrieve things from behind the white door. Nosy sniffed at the door. The air was cold and smelt of food. She pawed and nosed at the door, trying to open it. Footsteps rumbled on wood floor. A shadow blocked the light from above. Nosy felt herself grabbed by the scruff of her neck. The Garou raised her into the air and met her eye to eye.
“You're a Nosy one, aren’t you?” her father said. He relocated her under his arm, holding her by her chest. He carried her over to the kitchen counter. All sorts of delicious smells. Vegetables, Meat. Nosy strained closer to sniff at the food. Her father reached out with his man hands and picked up something off the counter. He offered it to Nosy. Nosy sniffed it. Carrot. She licked it out of his hands with her tongue and swallowed the carrot whole. Her father ruffed up her fur in a pleasant manner. “I’m not suppose to give you human names or treat you like pets.” He set Nosy down on the floor and smoothed out her fur. He crouched down to look at her. Nosy put her front paws on his knees and sniffed at him, checking his mood. Amused, her father was amused. “We will keep this between you and I. It will be our little secret, Nosy.” He scratched Nosy behind the ears. “Though I think you’ll earn your own name when you are older. You are certainly more curious than the rest of your litter.”
All the food smells were gone. Nosy mourned them as she mourned her father. Before he died, she would visit her father in his den. She would stealthily follow as he ran with his pack of Garou. Nosy would wait for him as they would run far into places she could not follow.
“Go,” Her mother growled. “Wait for Gaia.” She still remembered the pain when her mother drove her out. It was fresh, just this morning. Her siblings surrounded her, growling. Each one of them beared the marks of Nosy’s anger. She was a disturbance to the pack. As dangerous as the spring rains which brings the floods. For a moment, Nosy considered taking the pack over. Forcing them to keep her. Yet, Nosy had no desire to become mother of the pack. Nosy allowed herself to be driven off. She ran all day until she found herself at her father’s den.
Nosy went into the sleeping room and curled up on the soft dusty bed alone. She missed her pack as much as she missed her father. Nosy was scared of what was to come. She knew of course. Only homids with their disconnect from Gaia were taken by surprise. She was going to change. To walk on both four feet and two. To hunt in both the physical world and the spiritual one. To fight and die for a world that grew more and more alien with each passing season.
Nosy hide her nose under her paws and waited for Gaia.
Nosy waits just inside of the tree line. The scents were old. No one has been here for a long time. Not since last autumn when the largest wolf she ever saw came to her mother. His grey furred body was covered in scars. Her mate was dead, the sept alpha told her. Nosy’s mother already knew. The pack heard the Howl of the Departed echo from the caern. The grey wolf left Nosy’s mother with her grief and her pups.
Nosy waited until moonrise and approached the house. Another memory surfaced. It was summer. It was hot. No water could be found. Nosy’s mother lead her young pups to this house. She left them hiding in the bushes and scratched on the door. A human opened. There was no gun in his hand. No rake or bat. He was unsurprised by the wolf at the door. He went around the house and did something with a green snakelike tube. Water, precious water, poured out of the green snake’s round mouth. He filled a shiny tub with water. Nosy smelt him. He was Garou, those who walked on two and four feet. A protector of Gaia. And though the scent was faint, Nosy could smell the father of the pack. This Garou was her father.
The mother of the pack denned the pups under the Garou’s house during the drought. Each morning and evening, the tub was filled with water. The Garou would run on four legs with Nosy’s mother and bring back meat. Nosy looked up at the entrance of her father’s den. The stairs were as tall as she was. She waited that evening until her father refilled the water tub. She followed stealthy, close at his heels into his den. The Garou was deaf and dumb when he walked on two legs. He never noticed Nosy at his heels. The door shut behind her.
In the here and now, Nosy raised up on her hind legs and dropped her paws on the door handle. The door clicked open. Nosy nosed her way into the house. The kitchen was in disarray. The cupboards emptied and left hanging open. Nosy sat before a closed one- a large white one, almost as tall as her father when he stood on two legs.
More memories. Nosy watched her father hum to himself and retrieve things from behind the white door. Nosy sniffed at the door. The air was cold and smelt of food. She pawed and nosed at the door, trying to open it. Footsteps rumbled on wood floor. A shadow blocked the light from above. Nosy felt herself grabbed by the scruff of her neck. The Garou raised her into the air and met her eye to eye.
“You're a Nosy one, aren’t you?” her father said. He relocated her under his arm, holding her by her chest. He carried her over to the kitchen counter. All sorts of delicious smells. Vegetables, Meat. Nosy strained closer to sniff at the food. Her father reached out with his man hands and picked up something off the counter. He offered it to Nosy. Nosy sniffed it. Carrot. She licked it out of his hands with her tongue and swallowed the carrot whole. Her father ruffed up her fur in a pleasant manner. “I’m not suppose to give you human names or treat you like pets.” He set Nosy down on the floor and smoothed out her fur. He crouched down to look at her. Nosy put her front paws on his knees and sniffed at him, checking his mood. Amused, her father was amused. “We will keep this between you and I. It will be our little secret, Nosy.” He scratched Nosy behind the ears. “Though I think you’ll earn your own name when you are older. You are certainly more curious than the rest of your litter.”
All the food smells were gone. Nosy mourned them as she mourned her father. Before he died, she would visit her father in his den. She would stealthily follow as he ran with his pack of Garou. Nosy would wait for him as they would run far into places she could not follow.
“Go,” Her mother growled. “Wait for Gaia.” She still remembered the pain when her mother drove her out. It was fresh, just this morning. Her siblings surrounded her, growling. Each one of them beared the marks of Nosy’s anger. She was a disturbance to the pack. As dangerous as the spring rains which brings the floods. For a moment, Nosy considered taking the pack over. Forcing them to keep her. Yet, Nosy had no desire to become mother of the pack. Nosy allowed herself to be driven off. She ran all day until she found herself at her father’s den.
Nosy went into the sleeping room and curled up on the soft dusty bed alone. She missed her pack as much as she missed her father. Nosy was scared of what was to come. She knew of course. Only homids with their disconnect from Gaia were taken by surprise. She was going to change. To walk on both four feet and two. To hunt in both the physical world and the spiritual one. To fight and die for a world that grew more and more alien with each passing season.
Nosy hide her nose under her paws and waited for Gaia.
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