My jaw clenches. I cannot leave these people defenseless when rebuttal comes. Neither can I leave my family in the clutches of a madman as slaves... or worse. Should I stay? Should I go?

They all jump when I abruptly turn and slam open the door leading to an implied freedom, letting the embrace of the moon soften my muscles. I don’t stop walking until a behemoth of a tree stands before me, gently swaying in the evening breeze.

But questions follow, dogging my steps worse than a wolf nipping at my heel. What should I do? What can I do? I am just one man. Most would consider me less than that. A monster. How can I do all that these people are asking of me? How am I to save both those I love and those behind me? All those pups shrieking and squawking in the common area—they would sell those little ones as slaves. All those involved in the insurrection... they would kill the men outright, the ladies taken to be sold to brothels and as household slaves. I punch one of the vast hardwoods before me.

Owowowow. Not. Smart. For once, my internal voice holds its peace, not remarking about my intelligence, or lack thereof.

I hiss and hold my bruised and slightly torn knuckles before me. A morbid chuckle drags from my lips. I rub my knuckles, and as I do so, I remember a gentle hand taking my hand in hers. Rubbing a plantain salve across my knuckles torn from a fight against another Shifter.

~~~

“Momma, why was he not punished? He tried to kill a dragon kit!” I asked in the innocent confusion of childhood. I couldn't have been over three or four.

“You were very brave, sweet child. They do not understand that all life is special, including those little dragon kits.”

“But, but... why? Why are they allowed to go free while I am punished for doing what is right? Why would Allfather allow this?”

Words long forgotten from my mother, my blood mother, come back to me. She smiled, but all I can see in my memory is her eyes. They were bright blue, and no matter the situation, they were filled with a joy beyond my comprehension.

"My sweet child, we are but threads in a grand and beautiful tapestry. The Allfather is the master designer. He loves to establish his touch in places to complete the masterpiece of a seemingly random multitude of threads which come together in an end only he can see. In such an end, he will stitch all together. All we need do is trust that he will guide us where we need to be. There will be deviation along the way, my heart. I have called them mistakes or roadblocks, but—Roland, understand this—they are the very things that will lead us to a place to become completely who we need to be for those we need to be for.

"My beautiful boy, you are meant for a great and important purpose; a purpose beyond your wildest dreams. Don't become discouraged over these detours. They will grant you the gifts needed to accomplish your heart-felt desires. They are your tapestry, threaded by a loving father to bring you to an expected place, so long as you listen with all your heart and hold to your trust in him. Be brave, my heart, and know my love goes with you: always and forever."

~~~

Like a locked door being thrust open, her voice brings back memories long repressed. It brings back her teachings given in secret about the Allfather, as my sire never allowed such teachings in the pack. It also brings back other memories. Of me and my brother—memories of us on her lap, listening to her lullabies before crawling under our covers. Her kind blue eyes my brother inherited. Black as night hair that became mine.

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Tears rush down my face, hidden in the darkness. She loved me dearly. She loved us despite our father and the monster I am. The pain of her being banished for her discovered teachings darts across my heart. She loved us and we were not allowed to go after her. Instead, we were told untruths and punished when we spoke of her. Father said she was grateful we were taken from her.

I believed those lies. My young self clung to those untruths. It was easier to bury the pain of my father's betrayal beneath resentment at someone I could be angry with.

The trees before me stand as silent sentries to my pain.

I release my torment in a moment of desperate escape, fleeing into the wolf. The wolf lives a simpler life—protect your pack and hunt; bring back meat for the pups and mothers; run without regret. They accept life for what is, choosing to let go of what isn’t. Hope and regret are not a part of a wolf's life. They live for the present and for the pack.

I grunt as my bones shift and elongate. Tingles travel up and down my arms and back as black fur replaces soft skin. Deep in my soul, the rage I keep chained howls to escape with the change. I stuff it back where it belongs. The last time I let it loose, it saved me but killed innocent beasts along with the man who was my jailer. The time before it killed someone I was protecting. It is too unpredictable to let loose. It moans as I shove it down further than usual in my contempt.

I imagine where a man was standing in silent misery a moment before—now stands a large black creature who gleams in the moonlight. A creature of nightmare and blood.

The slightly sweet scent of horses and hay emerges from a dark structure to the left. The hoot of an owl and the scurrying of night creatures meet my ears.

The tall sentinels beckon and call. The leaves rustle, sparkling silver in the pale moonlight. Puddles beneath my paws attest to a recent rainfall, bringing the scents of a coming fall and a certain chill from an early winter.

My ears twitch as multiple footsteps behind me ease into the leaves and grass. I glance back and realize I am still in sight of the inn.

Everyone stands just outside the doorway, the firelight a halo highlighting those who saved me. Jace and Tim go to step forward, but Heather motions them back with a wave of her hand. Her eyes show the compassion and empathy of one wolf trapped in circumstances beyond her control to another. For once, I wonder where her little pup's father is. Was she taken as my mother was to give life to us? Did her love leave, abandoning her and her pup? Did he pass?

I shake to ease myself into the wolf. The trees welcome me in a shadowy embrace as I trot deeper into the black folds beneath.

The world continues despite the turmoils of this half-wolf. A badger scurries away from his meal due to the apex predator coming through. His disgruntled growl almost draws a smile to my wolven face—even as I remind myself wolves don’t smile.

I continue further in and further out, following a trail traveled by many a creature. A deer beds down with her fawns who are almost old enough to leave to make their own paths. They lay scant feet from my path. I can hear the mighty thuds of their madly beating hearts, beating against my ears like a drumbeat from the Kul'Thum. I choose to ignore her and her little ones, leaving them to rest in peace. A rabbit and her clutch thunder from my path, scurrying out of my way. I don't chase the frightened creatures.

I stop before a glade deep within the forest. My heart pounds and my chest heaves. My legs call me stupid and a tinge of copper comes from the stab wound near my heart. Most likely pulled the stitches. Despite this, I can’t bring myself to regret my discovery.

The calm beauty of this small glade eases something in my soul. Peace fills my inner being.

The stars dance across the skies, twinkling merrily to a tune they alone can hear. The moon reflects upon the silent water before me. I walk reverently to the edge, taking in the fall flowers dancing along the edges with the faint breeze. A splash makes me jump, giving life to the seemingly silent night. The fish quickly descends, leaving only the ripples across the glass surface as a reminder of life. It distorts the glow of the moon and the sprinkling of stars upon the water.

A breeze ruffles the leaves high above and displaces a few of the early fallers. The leaves rain down as I breathe deeply of air untainted by human life. Scents of passing fox, rabbits, coyotes and the occasional moose bring to mind many who call this small glade a refuge. Far more than just the torn wolf sitting at its side. The world goes on despite the individual battles we face.

Somehow, this perspective quiets the questions of my mind and I am able to drink deeply of a peace I have seldom known. A beauty such as this cannot be contained nor possessed; only appreciated in the fleeting moments in which they are given.