Total pages in book: 254
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
I gave him a thumbs-up.
Another howl rose out of Henri’s chest at that, starting off low and quiet and gaining depth and volume with every second. From the adult group, two other voices joined him, weaving through the air together as a high one erupted from the children. It was Agnes. Another adult entered the chorus before a small one did the same.
Their voices made me think of my parents. Made me miss them. Miss my childhood and all the people who had been my whole world. I hoped they called me soon. The last time we’d spoken, they’d said one of my mom’s sisters was going to pick them up for a mini family reunion, but they hadn’t said which sister, and she had six of them. I’d give them another week to check in and then I’d start trying to track them down.
A small, crackly howl came from my feet before it cut off, and Duncan gave it another shot. He tipped his head, his neck an elegant line, his ears the highlight of his whole body. His lips pursed together as he tried to sing too.
My boy. My donut.
His voice was thinner than the others, but he was no wolf, and he was a baby, and love filled my entire body when his little lungs ran out of breath so soon and he had to start again, the cutest howl to ever be heard in the world. You couldn’t have paid me a billion dollars to think otherwise. It was magic and life, and I couldn’t imagine what it would sound like when he was older.
A small paw landed on top of my foot, and Duncan gave me this look as he arched his neck some more….
“Love,” he told me, those red eyes intent, trying to tell me something else…. Lifting his paw, he stomped on my foot once more.
I laughed. “Oh, you want me to howl, too?”
His “yes” so joyful, I laughed again when he set more weight down on me.
“Yes, yes, yes.”
“Okay, okay,” I told him as the adult wolves’ song started to rise once more.
“Yes, yes,” Duncan’s telepathic touch urged. Like I could tell him no.
I might have not been a four-legged creature in any fairy or folktale, but I’d been a member of a pack before.
I lifted my face and howled with them, my donut’s weight settling even more against me, his voice gaining volume by the note.
I howled, and when I ran out of breath, caught it, and howled even louder, not letting myself feel like a poser because I knew who I was doing this for.
For this sweet child who was mine. Mine to keep. Mine to protect. Mine to love.
And as I looked at the growing boy who I’d centered my whole world around, I projected the same thought at him, at the universe in general, that he sent me. LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, I sent him. ALL OF MY LOVE.
One day, I hoped he’d feel it the way I did when he shared it with me.
I lifted my head and howled some more, like I had done dozens of times over the years with my loved ones, and almost instantly caught the amber-colored gaze of a wolf the size of a horse. The deep foundation of Henri’s song suddenly seemed to get lost for maybe a second before he found it and awoo-ed an awoo that was both werewolf magic and so much more. I wasn’t the only one who felt like it was a call to the rest of the world to howl even louder.
And the moon in her infinite beauty and greatness seemed to shine even brighter as we sang and sang to her together.
I was lying on my back in the clearing when I heard something. Not the frogs and owls that usually filled the night or the rustling sounds that made me paranoid something was going to try and crawl into my ears. These were small, creaky noises.
Sitting up slowly, I instantly spotted the single small green fire bobbing along, heading in my direction from a big tree maybe twenty feet away. On either side of the torch were two gnomes, their wrinkled faces intent and serious. Did they look like they meant business or was I imagining it?
“Greetings,” the one without the torch called out.
“Greetings,” the one with it added.
My hands were already fumbling at my fanny pack as I smiled at them. “Greetings.”
They moved so fast for how small and old they seemed, but appearances were deceiving. Honestly, I thought they looked a little mean. A little grouchy. Adorable in their own way.
“How are you?” I asked when they stopped a few feet away from where I was sitting.
There was a pause that told me they hadn’t expected my question, but the one without the torch replied, “Pleasant.”