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Chapter Five
Cerine
The Yule celebration ended early when Mother Nature or the Goddess or whoever was in charge of winter decided to dump all the snow she’d been holding back so far this season directly on top of us. Our thick coats and the blood vessels in our wolfy feet enabled us to control our temperature, but once we’d returned from the run, nobody wanted to stay outside for a bonfire, even if we could get enough of the white stuff off the stacked wood to get it going.
But I didn’t mind, more than ready to return to my cabin and have a cup of tea or two. The alphas and Analise were so worried about me being all alone, but I didn’t mind at all. Or at least very little. Sure, I missed my grandmother, but that didn’t mean I wanted some random person living with me.
Sawyer even tried to get me to let someone walk me home, which was so sweet of him, but again, not necessary. I left my clothes there and redonned my fur for the run through the snowy woods. Heavy snow clouds, nimbostratus clouds, or so I’d been told they were called, hung low, covering the sky and hiding the full moon of the Solstice night. Winter’s chill closed in, promising short days and long nights by the fire while we waited for spring to awaken the lands again.
My wolf’s disgust at my sentimentality washed over me, but she’d have to put up with me. When the alphas said I was alone, they were omitting the most important part of me, my wolf. At her four-legged speed, I approached my cabin quickly but then veered aside at a sound coming from nearby, a whimper or growl…I couldn’t identify it exactly, except that it held such distress I couldn’t ignore it.
Any creature out in the snow on a night like this might need assistance, and the healer in me would be just as ready to save an animal as a pack member. Padding in a circle around the cabin, I widened the arc each time until I nearly stumbled over what I sought.
At first, all it resembled was a lump in the snow, but as I puzzled over it, the sound came again. Someone was under there, and the bit of fabric just showing on one side indicated it was a tent. So a person then rather than an animal. Blowing out a breath, I considered what to do. Whoever was under there might not be someone familiar with shifters—probably wasn’t in fact because nobody would trespass on our lands if they knew better. Therefore, approaching them in my fur would be a mistake and could lead to a variety of tragedies. I could frighten them, leading to their running out into the snow and maybe dying of hypothermia. Or I could frighten them, and they could shoot me. Or other bad things.
Wishing I could reassure them that I’d be right back, I bounded toward home and up on the porch. Grateful for Grandmother’s “wolf cord,” essentially a string that could be pulled with one’s wolf’s muzzle to open the door without having to shift first, I trotted inside.
My wolf was chanting inside me,Help them, help them,and I was nothing but confused as I dressed to go back to whoever was inside that tent. Not that my wolf would want anyone to die, usually, but she also didn’t show any particular interest in people outside of pack. Maybe she was just caught up in the spirit of the season.
We’re going. Give me a minute; I need hands and clothes and my medicines for this, I think.
Hurry!
I shifted without finesse and piled layers on my body, thermals, sweaters, two pairs of socks, scarf, hat, parka, then searched around for more outerwear in case whoever was huddled under that thin canvas covering needed it to get them here. What were they thinking? Probably silly humans out after hunting season. That thought did not make me want to help them more. But a healer could not leave someone to die, so I stepped into my boots and onto my porch and started for where I’d heard the sounds.
Incat sat on the tall, narrow table by the front window where she watched me come and go. My black kitty would slip outside only long enough to relieve herself in these snowy months, but she watched over me from the limitations of her perch, always there when I looked over my shoulder before disappearing into the woods and either returned to the spot or still there as soon as I entered the clearing again.
Another reason I did not feel alone—much.
The snow had piled up even more since I ran in to change, but I knew these woods like the back of my hand, even when it lay under feet of snow, and it didn’t take me long to struggle through the white stuff even with my arms laden with coats and hats. More had fallen on the spot where the tent lay, making it impossible to see even a scrap of orange canvas. Even my shifter hearing could not pick up any sound, and I hoped it was the snow and not something worse making that happen.
For a second, I considered shifting since my wolf’s furry paws were great for digging, but undressing would cost time and, of course, I had the problem with being naked when I shifted back. Humans didn’t always do that well with naked ladies. They were either confused or outraged or, worse, sometimes rapey.
And I didn’t feel like killing anyone today, so we’d just avoid creating a situation.
