The werewolf patted Austin on the back. “Not bad at all for a half-turn.”
“I didn’t want your help,” Austin hissed.
The werewolf slung the carcass over his broad shoulder. He was about as big as Austin would end up, though there was something off about him physically. His arms were a little longer and he was almost standing on his toes. They weren’t quite paws, but he wasn’t flat-footed either.
“You don’t have the strength or the ability to kill one of these yet, but when you go full-turn, nothing’s gonna stop you.”
“How long do I have to stay like this? I hate this body.”
“Depends. Everyone’s different. Sometimes it takes years, sometimes a few months, but you’re the strongest half-turn I’ve ever met. If something were to happen to me, you’d survive no problem out here on your own.”
“What do you mean if something were to happen? Nothin’s gonna do you.”
The werewolf started walking toward a hill in the distance as Austin trailed close.
“I dunno. Things happen. We’re resilient, not immortal.”
“You’re never gonna tell me your story, are you?” Austin asked.
“Not ‘til you do.”
Austin didn’t respond, instead he kept his eyes on the werewolf. They approached a small opening in the side of the craggy cliff with an ashy fire pit out front.
“You don’t have to cook it. We can just eat it like that, right? That’s what werewolves do,” Austin said, stopping as his elder dropped the buck to the ground.
“It’s whatwerewolvesdo, yeah.” He gave a sharp-toothed grin and pulled off one of the deer’s legs with a nauseating snapping sound before dropping it into Austin’s arms. “Wanna eat like a werewolf? Here ya go.”
The eager half-turn held the leg to his mouth and used his smaller canines to break the flesh, but he couldn’t seem to tear the meat away. Again, he tried, this time shaking his head, but his teeth just weren’t long enough to sheer anything.
“May as well be human,” he mumbled, tossing the leg to the ground.
“Stop being hard on yourself. Everyone has their limitations. Deal with it.” The older werewolf pulled a large, sharp blade sticking from the trunk of a scarred pine, paring the skin of the animal like a delicate fruit before ripping the rest of the hide away with his massive hands. “You get angry over the stupidest shit.”
“It’s not stupid!” Austin kicked the leg out of the way. “I’m sick of being helpless!”
“Well, good thing you’re not. I’m not usually in the habit of helping the helpless.”
“But I—”
“Can’t eat meat directly off a carcass. Who the hell cares? Humans can’t do that either, but they managed to eat meat just fine for thousands of years. You gotta brain, so use it. It’s not only about brute strength. You gotta be smart enough to use what you’ve been given to survive out here.”
Austin sat on a small, flat boulder, staring at the ground. “I’m not smart. I want to be strong.”
“Why do you say you’re not smart?”
“Never finished school.”
The black werewolf let out a growly chuckle. “Obviously. You’re out here with me instead.” With his index finger, he lifted Austin’s chin. “Got some news for ya, kid. School doesn’t make you smart. It makes you obedient.” He let go and continued skinning the carcass.
“Do you ever get lonely?” Austin asked.
The older werewolf stopped what he was doing and sat on the boulder.
“Yeah. There’s not a lot like us. They’re like domesticated dogs stayin’ in their miserable cities, barely living miserable lives. The humans hate us, but the werewolves just stay there like strays. Those that leave that shit-hole end up in Colorado Springs, joining the military. I feel sorry for ‘em.”
“Why? I’ve been thinking about it myself.”
The older werewolf shook his head. “Don’t ever trust the military. Don’t ever trust humans.”
