Dad slept but I couldn't. Not anymore. My stomach was grumbling hungrily. "Five more minutes." I thought. I knew I should get up and make food. Dad wouldn't wake up for at least one more day, but I just couldn't bring myself to leave him. Not after he had finally come back.

My stomach grumbled louder, reminding me of the hunger I felt.

"Damn." I cussed, climbed over Dad and left the sofa. Dad was sleeping like a stone. I was already used to this. It was always like this. Especially when he came home looking like a pregnant woman.

I glanced at his belly. It had already visibly shrunk. Soon it would be completely gone.

I got some meat out of the fridge and soon the smell of fried smoked meat filled our small little cabin. I knew Dad wouldn’t wake up from that. With Dad sleeping only the sound of sizzling meat filled the cabin. I hesitated for a moment, then I went over and turned on the record player. I let my hands glide over our extensive collection before picking one at random. As soon as the needle touched music was filling the quiet cabinet. The enchanting voice of Steve Wilson invited me to swim into his blackest eye.

I didn’t sing along this time - Dad was here. I would be embarrassed if he were to wake up while I was singing along. I knew he wouldn’t mind, but I did.

After the food was done I hastily gulped it down so I could cuddle back next to Dad as soon as possible. The music was still playing and I fell asleep listening to the lyrics.

When I woke up the next time I was alone on the sofa. The smell of bacon filled the cabin.

“Morning." I said and yawned.

“Morning, darling. I Was just about to wake you, food is ready." Dad stood in front of me and held out his hand. I took it and he pulled me up from the sofa and into his arms. Like a little princess he carried me to the kitchen table where one plate of food was waiting for me.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

Dad never ate this kind of food, but he always sat down next to me. When he was home I never ate alone.

“Do you want to go swimming later?" He asked while watching me eat. A gentle smile raised his lips and his red eyes looked at me full of adoration.

“Sure!" I smiled. There was a crystal clear lake about an hour walk from here. I loved going to the lake and Dad did too.

“Then I will pack some food and a blanket and we can have a picnic afterwards." Dad smiled, then he got up and put the record player playing. It still had the same record I had put on as he was asleep and once again I listened to Blackest Eye From Porcupine Tree. After I was done eating he pulled me up and started to dance with me. It was a slow song and we were gently swaying along to the music. Dad's dark scent was embracing me and I felt calm and at peace.

When the song ended Dad made me sandwiches and packed a cute picnic basket that visually didn’t fit him at all. Then he took my hand and together we went through the dark forest to the lake.

The wind was whispering ominously in the trees. When I was younger it scared me. It took me a few years to learn that this was normal in the midnight forest. The whispering in the trees, the feeling of being followed and watched. According to Dad there were monsters in the forest, but I had never encountered any.

I had asked him once about this, he had just smiled and answered “of course not. They would never dare to touch what is mine."

Somehow this made me happy. I was Dad’s. I felt that it should upset me. I was a person, not a thing, but it didn’t. Probably it didn’t because Dad had added in a barely audible whisper “my daughter."

I was his daughter. He saw me as his child. We were family.

It was normal for me to carve this. A family. A place to belong. A pack. It was deeply engraved into my being. Werewolves were social creatures. At last this is what Dad had explained to me.

We arrived at the lake. I stripped down to my underwear and jumped into the crystal clear water. Dad just removed his shirt and followed me.

I gasped when my head broke through the water surface. The water was ice cold. Dad laughed beside me. His laughter was so beautiful, it would even make a nightingale stop their song in envy. The night at the lake was perfect. We swam, then I ate while Dad kept me company. Together we watched the reflection of the moon on the water and swam some more. At the end I was so exhausted, that Dad carried me home. I rested my head on his strong shoulders and fell asleep.