8
Flint
Afew days later,Casey woke me up by sitting on my chest and demanding that I take her out huntingtoday.I groaned and pulled her down into the bed like a grumpy papa wolf. She let out a playful growl and tackled me, clawing at me with her tinynails.
“Our daughter is killing me,” I mumbled to Charlie, who was rousing aswell.
“She’syourdaughter today,” Charlie grunted and pulled the covers back over his head. “While you take her hunting, I’m gonna sleep all day and do absolutelynothing.”
I forced myself to sit up. The sun wasn’t high above, yet - it was a good hour to hunt, while animals were still mulling around beforenoon.
“Alright, pup.” I picked up Casey and put her on the ground. “Let’s go bag a bigone.”
“Yay!” She immediately threw off her clothes in the middle of the floor and shifted to her wolf. She shook out her fur, then tossed me an impatientglance.
“Keep your fur on, I’m coming. Just give me a minute.” I chuckled. Jericho was right - she really was a littlespitfire.
I leaned over Charlie, lifted the covers from his face, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His skin was soft and warm from sleep and I was half tempted to crawl back into bed with him. But I made a promise to Casey, and it was one I intended tokeep.
“You’ll be okay for a few hours?” I asked gently. “Are you sure you won’t need mearound?”
Charlie quirked an eyebrow. “I’m pregnant, not incompetent.” He waved a hand, shoo-ing me away. “Go entertain ourdaughter.”
“Fine. There’s food in the fridge, and if you need anything, we’ll only be out in the woods, so just give us ahowl.”
“Yes,” Charlie grunted. “Goodbye. I love you. Now,goodnight.”
And with that, he turned around and fell backasleep.
I turned to Casey, who stood in the doorway and glared at me with her fierce golden eyes. I figured I should get a move on and take her out before she attacked meagain.
* * *
The woods werecrisp and cold. It was a gray-blue day, with clouds overhead and tiny glimpses of sun. The forest was a canvas of scents; damp mulch, living prey, running water. Everything seemed so muchalivein wolfform.
I stretched out my legs, feeling the tension disappear. No matter what kind of stress went on in my daily life, running through the forest as my wolf always felt amazing. Our kind was never meant to stay in one shape forever. We needed to listen to that instinctiveurge.
Casey gamboled through the underbrush up ahead. She growled and took a play-bow stance, then pounced on a pile of deadleaves.
“You definitely caught that one,” I growledplayfully.
She wagged her tail. “I want to catch something bigger and morealiver.”
“Okay. What do we do first, then?” Iasked.
She paused, plopping her rear end down on the ground. “I dunno. I’ve never been huntingbefore.”
I winced inwardly. I couldn’t believe Casey never had the chance to hunt before in that barbaric pack. She was absolutely old enough to learn how, and she was either a beta or an alpha wolf - meaning she would be expected to hunt or fight. Perhaps it was because she never had an alpha father to teach her how, Ithought.
I pushed those thoughts aside. She had an alpha fathernow, and I was going to do everything in my power to do right byher.
“The first thing you do when hunting is scent the air,” I told her. “Do it and tell me what yousense.”
She lifted her snout to the wind and inhaled a few times. “I smell… a lot of dirt. And deadleaves.”
I pressed a paw to her side, urging her to stand up. “You’ll do better if you’re focused and standing. Now try again. Search for musky, wild notes in the air. I can smell them, so I know they’rethere.”
Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed the air again, this time with more determination. Recognition flashed across her eyes. She inhaled deeply once, then wagged her tail. “I smell something. Sort of like… dirtychicken.”
