What she did not know at the time but certainly figured it out, was that this was indeed a werewolf. By all rights she should have died outright from blood loss and shock. She assumed being as cold as she was, it slowed down the blood loss but at a certain point she did not feel like she was dying, though she certainly wanted to.

She couldn’t move, and was just left with a series of memories to flood her mind that were not hers. They were blurry visions of a life not her own, in the perspective of a nine foot tall beast committing a multitude of murders. Hours upon hours went by and all she saw in her mind’s eye was slaughter and butchery, an incalculable loss of life and people being torn apart in various snowed in landscapes. Mostly forests, but she also caught a glimpse of the outskirts of cities as well.

She surmised that perhaps the blood was transferring memories, but she couldn’t maintain much thought herself. She felt so much less than she was, everything she could be lying there in the snow was burning, stinging pain and the memories of a mass murderer. Hours and hours went by, even days but it felt like months. She could feel herself rotting away, and the corpse never got lighter.

Eventually, the same hunting party from the hunter compound she had met before finally made their way back to her shack. They noticed the shack looked like it had exploded, but with no fire or char. It did not take long for them to notice the red patches all over the snow. It hadn’t flurried much in the days since the attack so plenty of it was visible. They turned past the small snowy hill and located the remains of the melee, shocked at the sight.

“Hva faen…” one of them uttered, and they rushed to the scene. Astrid was also present, electing to take the perimeter in case any critters wanted to finally start closing in to explore the remains.

Another one called out, “Erik, hun puster fortsatt!”

A couple, including Astrid, came to haul the corpse of the beast off of her. At one moment they were confused, because there was a cold-rotten arm a few feet away but Livia still had both of hers, but without the jacket covering it, like someone just ripped off the sleeve.

Astrid spoke up in English, “She turned.”

Once Livia was finally able to breathe, the grace of whatever gods may exist finally allowed her to pass out.

She awoke later in completely unfamiliar territory. The first sensation was warmth, something she hadn’t really felt in some time. She was in new clothing, a fairly modest fixture of leathers. She crawled out of the bunk and looked behind her, it was a series of bunks affixed inside a wall, with several others scattered around and sleeping. It looked like the inside of an RV, but expanded. It even had some ladders for visitors to reach them. Communal living, apparently.

She left the room, a bit lost and confused. She entered a fairly bustling area. It looked like a classic, nordic longhouse but logically more modernized. It had a bar-like atmosphere, but a place where people could actually live. There was indeed a bar, as well as televisions that many hunters were lounging and laughing at. Damn near everyone had some kind of stein in hand.

Livia wandered to some of the nearest Norse, still not being able to speak much of it and she was talked to only for her to be a bit confused. The best she could come up with was “Astrid?” At that point she was directed down the hall while the hunters returned to their general merrymaking. All the while, many of them looked in her direction for a moment, but she couldn’t discern the intent behind it. She was about the only person of color around, though she did spot a black man or two dressed as everyone else and speaking their language (she assumed fluently) so her look wasn’t completely foreign.

As she traveled deeper in the complex she noted that the interior seemed larger than it should be. She finally deduced that she was within the mountain itself and everything was built within caves. She probably should have caught that when the ceiling was incredibly high but she had other things in mind. The place was fairly busy, and she passed something like a marketplace where people were trading and crafting furs, spears, and there were even some guns. Notably there were several clothed werewolves wandering around, relaxing and merrymaking with the rest. She felt like she should have been terrified but she had enough intelligence to surmise that perhaps the one she encountered was some kind of outlier. She did indeed notice she had both of her arms, which led to the assumption that being bled on by a massive werewolf probably turned her into one, but she had to put a pin in that. One problem at a time, Livia.

She kept asking, “Astrid?” and being pointed in the right direction. All the while people started to stare and smile, nodding in respect.

Eventually she walked into a craftsman’s den, the smell of burning leather came upon her. There was also a blacksmith, hammering out some tools. She finally found Astrid, accompanied by one or two men she recognized from the hunting party she was a part of. They greeted her kindly, and thankfully in english.

“The hunter awakes!” one of them exclaimed happily. Big, bearded grin accompanied.

Even Astrid who was normally as stone-faced as Livia herself had a content, worried smile. It was subdued compared to the rest.

“What happened?” Livia asked, pointedly.

Astrid spoke up first, “You slew a white wolf, a mighty feat. You’re a legend around here.”

“Is that significant?”

“Quite. They’re the deadliest of werewolves, and quite insane. We’re not sure why they became erratic some centuries ago, when they used to be chieftains and warlords. Now they just wander around, killing. We try to hunt them ourselves but they are very powerful and elusive,” Astrid explained.

“Then how the fuck did I get one?” Livia asked.

Erik chimed in, “A fucking load of luck, girl. Got right there in its brain.”

Astrid motioned for Livia to follow her, “Come here, let us show you the rewards of the hunt.”

She complied, and was led to the backroom of the tanning booth. In the worker’s room, there was a massive table with a partially skinned white wolf corpse. The worker there was a more lithe man with glasses, but still greeted everyone in Norwegian so still a local, just perhaps not a warrior. He may not even be a werewolf, but that was just an assumption on her part.

Only then did her heart begin to beat faster and she was locked in place, fear and memory flooded her mind. To everyone, the carcass was a major victory for the community as a whole. To her, it was the beast that ripped her arm off, which she reached towards the now-healed arm instinctively and began to rub it to remind herself she still has it. Astrid was the only one to notice Livia’s growing discomfort, and sequestered her away quickly. She spouted something in Norwegian to her party, it sounded barbed but could not make out what she said.

Her heart pounded to the point of pain, and tears crawled out of her eyes. It’s all she could think about was the attack. Astrid sat down with her and shouted some order, and someone rushed over with some water which Livia downed happily. She was hyperventilating, so the hydration helped but only so much. Her breathing was rapid so her only way to combat the panic attack was to lock herself up and stare at the floor.

“Are you okay? What do you need?” Astrid asked, trying to help.

“Just… need a minute. Panic attack,” Livia’s had them before.

A few minutes went by, with Astrid giving just a few words of comfort. A body to lean on, metaphorically.

“I want to go ho— God damnit, I don’t have a home.”

“About that,” Astrid added. “The Chieftain wants to meet you. He might be able to help with that.”

As Livia’s breathing stabilized, she nodded in approval. They wandered off together, Astrid led her through the compound. The werewolves they passed were varied in body shape and fur color, but notably not a single one on the gray or white scale. They ranged from various browns, blacks, and reds. It was as they claimed, white wolves were special and more rare.

She was led into a fairly casual throne room with church-like benches flanking it. Along the walls were various trophies and animal heads, very much giving a hunter’s den vibe as the whole compound did. Hunters and trappers are a vocation that just never really go out of style, apparently.

The room had a smattering of hunters but more came wandering in, some taking a seat and some casually leaning against the walls. There was no shout or cry for a meeting.

Astrid leaned into Livia to whisper, “They’re all coming to hear your story.”

Livia was then introduced to Chieftain Björn. He was on the older side, exceeding sixty but had a healthy body for it. A fair beast of a man but barely any taller than Livia was, and a well maintained gray beard and hair with some braids within. He took to his throne and motioned Livia to step forward.

She was the first to speak. “I don’t really know what’s goi-”

Björn held up his hand, a motion for her to cease. Not impolitely, mind you, which was proven by the accented words that followed.

“First, Livia. I would like to offer my sincerest apologies on behalf of our tribe, that you had to encounter the White Wolf outside our terms. That one has been tracked for forty years, always defeating our hunting parties and since then, our chief hunter Astrid has been tasked with keeping track of its movements. Unfortunately, it wandered too close to our borders which undercut our hunter’s patrols. It was a horrible thing you had to go through, and through absolutely no fault of your own. Nor did you have any choice in becoming one of our wolves, something that we ritualize and hold very dear.”

“To make amends for this tragedy, I offer two things. First, you will be exempt from our rituals and inductions. You do not have to become part of our tribe if you do not wish to be, a choice that many who become wolves do not have. Secondly, I have already ordered a new cabin for you, and some wood is already being sent to where your home is. It will take a few weeks, but we have some good men on it. I hope it will be to your liking.”

His voice was solemn but commanding, and Livia appreciated that she was not being forced into a world that she did not choose. There was actual comfort in his words, and she was happy that a home was being built for her. She still liked the idea of living off the land, off the grid. There was this constant feeling since she woke up that all she wanted to do was go home, when there was none to have. This man fixed that, and for that she had an appreciative tone in her words which did not go unnoticed.

“Uh, thank you. I accept, uhm, both of those things. But…” She had a pause.

Björn spoke up, “If you have any requests within reason, please let them be known.” The room was filled to the dozens at this point, everyone listening to the exchange, the story likely spread this way.

“I still need to know about being, becoming this thing. So I don’t run into any more surprises. Like, I know some basic lore about it but I should probably be corrected, yeah?”

Björn nods in agreement, “We have some literature that can help with that.”

“I was thinking maybe a tutor as well? Maybe Astrid could come by and answer questions?” With that, she turned towards Astrid.

Astrid was taken aback slightly by being put on the spot but she regained her composure quickly enough. “My Chieftain, with the white wolf taken care of, this would be an honorable way to fill some hours of my day and still respect her exemption from our tribe.”

Björn nodded a time or two in thought, “This is acceptable. Is there anything else?”

Livia answered, “Honestly sir, I just really want to go home. To have a home again.”

“Maybe we’ll see if we can get some extra hands on building,” He then addressed the crowd, “Spread the word, if there are any volunteers, then report to the cabin.” There was some shuffling and murmurs in response.

“Is there anything else, child?”

Livia shook her head in the negative, and with that the crowd was dispersed.

Within the following two weeks or so, Livia experienced a subdued celebrity status. Her trauma was well known and the rumor of her panic attack spread, so Astrid and Livia discussed and assumed that most of the tribe was told not to assault her with questions about the attack. Astrid’s people love talking of hunts and many hunters embellish their stories but Livia’s attack was particularly brutal even by werewolf standards so most kept their distance with the occasional exception. In that, she did not spend a lot of time mingling with the locals but many more doors were opened up for her. She was often approached by hunters, telling her that they volunteered to help build her shack. Apparently there were many builders on it. She got a chance to visit her old, destroyed shack once and noticed something of twenty or thirty people working on it, which shocked her.

Eventually she got context as to why; Apparently the white wolf had slain many people in the tribe of years past. A lot of the workers on her new cabin were victims of killed family members, so Livia garnered a lot of respect for slaying it. In the odd times she conversed with some of them, there was respect there. She almost did not feel worthy of it, trying to accentuate the fact that luck was the deciding factor of the white wolf’s defeat.

Astrid was quick to correct it, “That is still why many hunters still use traps and spears over rifles. There’s no story when you snipe a beast from a mile away, but the thrill of taking on a wolf with blade in hand, still commands respect from the tribe. When that happens, luck becomes a huge part of battle. Our culture is aware of this.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It was one of the many lessons Astrid would impart on Livia in the weeks she remained within the compound. Beyond that she was given the basics of werewolves, a lot of it works like in common lore but what mostly concerned Livia was the idea of a “blood rage”, the need to feed or the mind-overriding fury that werewolves have in lore and media.

Astrid corrected this to a degree, “We are not vampires, we have no need to feed but like anyone else. As for fury, the moon does still have power over us. During the full moon, we get boundless energy to the point where it can become painful if we do not expend it. We have rituals to help, depending on what a wolf chooses. Most hunters choose the run, where on the night of the full moon there are massive running parties that bound across the mountains. Like a sprint, or a race. It lasts for hours and is a good way to get through the near-limitless energy we get.”

“Our caverns also host rooms for orgies, which can also last for several hours and is another way to deal with the energy. Different rooms for different preferences, of course.”

“Yeah. That’s one way to do it I guess,” Livia chuckled, and they had a laugh together. She had to ask, “And what is your preference?”

Astrid gave it some thought, “I still want my own tribe some day. I want to lead, to have a family and expand my bloodline. The men who have tried to court me all feel just so… common. Boring, I guess? Does that make sense?”

Livia marked her down as straight, shame. “I guess,” was all she uttered and the conversation died with that. She also had no interest in the tribes themselves and never asked for elaboration. She eventually learned that they’re all over the world, and that other mythical creatures exist but in this area of the world they’re not encountered very often.

All the same, the death of the local White Wolf was big news. There was also a bit of a concern of what kind of white wolf Livia herself would be. She hadn’t shown any signs of mental instability, or rather not the violent ones. She noticed an increase in panic attacks than what she’d had before. Her childhood was insane but nothing really triggered her into shutting down for a few minutes like the werewolf attack did, and this particular mountain community was a bit light on therapists but she wasn’t prepared to put herself out there in the main city below. As it stood it was more mental anguish than physical so she opted to just hold onto it for now, and if her feelings got worse she’d explore options in the city.

Still, despite having a crush on someone with an incompatible orientation, Astrid’s presence was calming for her. Astrid herself was also a bit on the stoic side but for different reasons, and still opened up to Livia especially in quieter settings. Notably, according to Livia, she was absolutely gorgeous. Her time in the compound she finally got to see her without a hood. She had incredibly long blond hair, braided to make it manageable. Her eyes, like many other werewolves, had a sheen of bright yellow to it (which can apparently only be detected by otherworldly entities, otherwise she had fairly plain brown eyes). Her arms were muscular, which made sense for her common use of bows and arrows. Livia was no slouch in the athletic department herself, generally keeping herself toned but it was still nothing compared to the hunters that surrounded her. All the same, Livia tried to keep Astrid close as she was more comfortable with her than anyone else. While her cabin was being built, they became fairly close friends and Livia became her confidant, someone to vent years worth of frustrations with the werewolf community without fear of being exiled.

It didn’t take long, especially with all of the extra volunteers from Björn’s call to aid. Roughly two weeks or so, and she was finally awarded a new cabin for her troubles.

It was three times larger than the shack she originally had, finally hosting multiple rooms. Yet it was still built for one person, but could fit two comfortably. Any potential for family, it would likely need to be expanded. It took up the same frontal space but was built longer, its backside pushing towards the steppes. It was built with care, with massive hardy logs of wood. The shack was built more like a shed to begin with, and was not designed to be actually lived in, but more of a safehouse than anything. The cabin in contrast was a place someone could actually put down roots.

Despite being able to host multiple rooms, it still had an open layout. Most rooms were not connected by any walls or doors, the only thing that was enclosed was a closet or two and some storage. There was a proper living room now with an older but functional television. Next to it was the kitchen with a table that could comfortably seat four people. There was a bedroom which did have its own walls to itself, but that was it. Even the shower and bath didn’t have walls, but just had its own special drain and anti-slip tiling. There could be a privacy curtain but it was awkwardly placed to the point where its presence was a formality. The builders assumed she would be here alone with the occasional guest and was designed with that in mind.

There were hooks for multiple lanterns beyond the single one she had before, and it was now well lit and incredibly warm and homey. She still had the usual back-house shed and storage. All of the necessities were still there, just expanded to be comfortable.

Emotions overcame her, and she began to cry. She was comforted by Astrid and the foreman, still consoled by the fact that it wasn’t so much if she deserved it or not; there were many workers that were just happy to have a project to do again. Again, there was also still the fact that she inadvertently saved several lives in the future. Whether she thought it or not, she did in fact deserve this treasure.

They did find her bag of cash but it went untouched. She offered to pay them, but was refused. Nobody knew what was in the bag, none bothered to peek while she was in the compound. They assumed it was books.

She settled in well enough but quicker than she realized, she was alone again. There was the comforting fact that she now had Astrid as a visitor, between one to four visits a week, depending on if her hunting party had a quarry or not. Alongside these visits she’d usually bring something to smoke, like a varied herb or marijuana. They both typically sat by the window to smoke together so the scent doesn’t stick to the rest of the walls, and Livia never minded the cold breeze to mix with the warmth of the fire.

Astrid used her to complain about her society, which Livia didn’t mind. They were very kind to her personally but there were still a lot of in-between things Astrid did not care for.

“There’s this expectation that, if you want a tribe you need to marry and have children to expand the bloodline. I come from nobody, so I have no name. I need to make one.”

Livia veiled her intentions with a theoretical, “Well, let’s say I wanted to make a tribe. I’m gay, so would that be problematic?”

Astrid took a second to think on it, “I don’t think my people have a problem with them, but I still feel like there’s an expectation for leaders to be a woman and man.”

Livia’s query functioned two-fold. She certainly wanted to let Astrid know of her own preferences, while trying to gauge hers. Astrid never really said what she liked, most of the conversations were complaints so it was hard to read.

“Unfortunate,” Livia replied.

“Yes. And there’s this man who’s been trying to court me, says he deserves to have me. Best warrior, best hunter. Best blood.”

“I assume he’s an asshole?” Livia quipped.

“That’s the thing, Livia. It’s hard to say. He’s haughty for sure and hasn’t been too pushy, but he’s been getting worse in recent years. I think his tribe is pressuring him to find a mate and he seems like he’s ‘settling’ for me and won’t take no for an answer.”

“That’s not great, have you made sure he knows? Like, tell him to fuck off?”

“I… haven’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I’m not sure yet. Maybe I don’t need to mate for love, maybe he can just be a jumping off point to get a tribe started?”

“It sounds to me like you can do that with anyone, Astrid.”

Astrid sighed, “Well, you’re not wrong.”

There would be several conversations like this over the course of weeks, not always along the same vein and not always in a venting capacity. Livia made it known that she appreciated Astrid’s presence, though Astrid remained completely oblivious to her crush because being with a woman was not something she had considered to be an option. Not that Astrid was at all a young werewolf, she was pushing into the two-hundreds. Romance was just always last on her list of priorities.

At one point Astrid came with a delivery. She had some kind of satchel and strap, fairly large. Not entirely unlike the one Livia kept her money in.

“Sorry, Livia, I have to make this quick. There’s a hunter’s meeting in an hour and as the lead I need to be there. But the tanner finished his work, actually he did a few days ago and we just now made the delivery… Sorry.” She upholstered the pack and handed it over, which Livia accepted.

“What is it?”

“Your bounty, dear. It rightfully belongs to you,” and with that Astrid offered a polite goodbye and a promise to return the next day for a more proper conversation.

Livia opened the pack and revealed strips of white furred hide. It hit her immediately, this was the tanned and curated hide of the beast that attacked her, cleaned up and made to be used for any variety of methods. Blankets, armor, footrug, anything one desired to do with it. It was incredibly tough, she pulled at it for a second and wondered how they could cut it into pieces at all, and then she realized it had been a couple of months so it probably took a lot of work and special equipment to do it.

Then something else hit her. Another attack, her mind locked down and her mind was flooded with the memory of her hiding in her shack and tracking the beast between the window curtains. Her heart pounded, and she closed the sack and collapsed on the floor to have herself a silent cry. Trying to hold back the sound of crying just made her breathe heavier, which tired her out and just forced out more tears. It took about an hour for her to recover, and she realized she could not at all accept this ‘gift’, because it was just a symbol of agony. She resolved to gear up, and haul it back to the hunter’s mountain compound.

It’s always a decent hike, which is why she doesn’t bother most of the time. However unlike before, being stopped at the gate, she was greeted kindly and they opened up for her in respect. Her story had spread in the past months so she was greeted with smiles and salutes in the halls, but she had a goal. Once again she was just asking “Astrid?” and being pointed towards a different section, one she had barely seen before. A sort of military barracks.

By then, hours had passed and Astrid’s meeting had ended. She still had some people lingering to speak on some final touches, and several were entering and exiting the halls. She spotted Livia and greeted her with a surprised smile.

“Did not expect to see you again so soon, Livia!”

“Ah, yeah. Meeting over?” She asked.

“Yes, yes. Mostly talking about the new patrols and coordinating the next full moon’s race. Did you need something?”

“Yeah, uh. I can’t… I can’t accept this,” Livia unstrapped the packaged hides and carried it towards her. “I’d like you to have them.”

This caught some attention, to the surprise of Livia. She hadn’t understood the weight of what she just did at the time.

“Livia… this is a king’s gift. Something to be given to chieftains and heroes. I mean, it’s yours but…”

“I’d uh, specifically you. I’d like you to have it. I think if you cut it into strips, it’d make for some cool highlights to your armor. Make you look more distinguished,” Livia outstretched her arms, while Astrid reluctantly took the white wolf’s bounty. She was left stunned, and Livia sheepishly retreated. She did not want to have another mental breakdown in front of the gathering crowd, which now spread the story. She did not overhear anything relevant and did not want to, she mostly just wanted to leave the hides and return home.

It took three days for her to see Astrid again, beyond her promised one. Livia got a bit nervous, wondering if she caused some unintended offense. In truth Astrid was just reeling from the reward. She did come to the cabin, with a look of concern.

“Is everything alright?” Livia asked.

Astrid sighed, “You, uh. You don’t really know what you did with that, did you?”

“What, giving you the hides?”

“Yes…”

“I mean, come in and tell me?” Livia said. Astrid accepted, and relaxed but only to a degree. She quickly retrieved her smokes for them both to share, and Astrid had to take a long drag to calm her nerves before she continued the conversation.

“There’s this perception in the tribe. The gift you gave me… was akin to a marriage proposal.”

“...Oh. Oh,” was all Livia could really respond at the time.

Astrid continued, “There’s also this rumor that you might be in love with me? I didn’t even think about it like that, us…”

Livia was quick to try and console her, “I think love might be too strong a word for it, at least right now.”

Astrid looked surprised, “But there are feelings?”

“I mean, yeah. You’re gorgeous, and the only one in that tribe that took me under your wing. I figured it was a bit natural for me to… you know.”

At that point Astrid became a bit annoyed, but not at Livia. At herself.

“God damnit, how did I not notice? It’s so obvious now, I’m an idiot.”

She grumbled like this for a minute before Livia offered her a weak smile. “I mean, you’ve told me before. Romance was never really on your mind, right? I get it, I don’t want to pressure you with anything.”

Astrid groaned, “No, no.” There was a pause, “I don’t suppose you can’t, uh, keep the hides?”

Livia was over that particular attack so she said very plainly, “Sorry, but when I went up there it was a couple hours past one of the worst panic attacks I ever had. Seeing that fur completely shut me down, I was on the floor weeping for like, forty-five minutes or something. I had to get them out of my house, and since you’re a friend… I just thought…”

Astrid sighed heavily, taking another drag. “I get it, I do. I’ll keep them… maybe do that highlight idea. Would that, uh, trigger an attack, though?”

Livia shook her head, “Maybe not if they’re in like, thin strips. I don’t feel anything when I walk by someone with a fur coat in the city, so it’s a bit more random than that. Sometimes a simple smell catches me, like when I try to cook some noodles. I was cooking noodles minutes before I found that werewolf, so it triggers that memory. But I also love noodles.”

They both had a chuckle at that. The conversation became more calm. Astrid acquiesced to keeping the gift, kingly as it was. Her visits became more consistent, and they began speaking more about their personal lives. Livia opened up a bit about her past so her trauma was more contextualized and Astrid promised to make sure the tribes stay off her back a bit. Being conversationally assaulted with demands of hearing about the slayer of the White Wolf became more traumatic for her. To the point where she sought help in the city proper. A great help to her was the technique of grounding, wherein during a panic attack you focus on your basic surroundings. Livia let Astrid know of this, because on more than one occasion Astrid would come knocking to be greeted with silence, eventually finding out that Livia was crawled in a corner in abject, mental terror. Astrid was given a house key, the only recipient, so she could come in and help ground her and cut off panic attacks sooner rather than later.