“How did you do that?” Past Soren asks.
Lyall tugs at his furs. “It’s a blessing from Fenrir. He grants us the gift of the change if we worship him and hunt in his name.” He leans in and sniffs curiously. “You’re human.”
“You’re not,” he states.
Lyall shakes his head with pride. “No. I’m ulfhednar. Sorry I scared you. Are you still afraid?”
“At first,” Past Soren admits. “But you’re not all that frightening.”
Lyall puffs out his chest. “I am so! Where’d you come from anyway?” he asks, circling around the boy and sniffing curiously. “Why do you smell like… like…”
When Lyall burrows his nose into the hair behind Past Soren’s ear and inhales long and deep, he squawks and shoves Lyall away. He growls, but it sounds more playful than scary. “Stop that.”
“Where’s your pack?”
“I don’t have a pack.” Tears glimmer in his eyes. “My mother and father… they’re…” Face reddening, he scrubs his eyes. “Wolves a-attacked my village. I don’t know where my father is. My mother left me and never came back.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” For a moment, he’s quiet. Then he says, “My mother too. When I was little.”
“Sorry.”
Past Lyall sits beside my younger self, their shoulders touching. “Sometimes ulfhednar hurt humans. Humans hurt us too. I wish we’d stop hurting each other and learn to all be friends.” He grabs my past self’s shoulders suddenly. A smile blooms on his face. It’s like staring into the sun itself. “I’ll be your pack.”
“Why?” Past Soren asks.
He shrugs. “Because. You’re nice. You smell good. My wolf likes you.”
I don’t know what any of that means. I don’t think my younger self does either.
“Don’t want a pack. But… maybe just a friend? If you want,” Past Soren adds, lowering his head.
My chest aches because I know what he’s thinking.
Maybe we’ll be friends at first. Then he’ll get tired of me and leave.
Suddenly, Lyall grabs Past Soren’s hands. He’s grinning so big and bright, like I just offered him the moon. “Yes! I’d love to be your friend!”
“Really?”
“Yes! Everyone wants to be friends with my baby brother, Wulfric, because he’s going to be Alpha someday. Now I’ll have my own friend! But you have to promise to bemyfriend. No one else’s. My wolf doesn’t like sharing.” He scuffs his toe and averts his gaze, like he knows that’s not a good thing, but there’s a stubborn set to his jaw.
Past Soren smiles. “Okay. I’ll be your friend. I don’t need a lot of friends. Just one really good one.”
Lyall’s eyes light up, and he hauls Past Soren to his feet and tousles his hair. “Yes! I’ll be the best friend you could ever ask for. You’ll never be alone, not ever.”
Beside me, adult Lyall huffs a laugh.
“What’s your name?” Past Soren asks.
“Lyall. What about you?”
My younger self holds out his hand. “Soren.”
Lyall snatches his hand up and sniffs it, then licks his palm.
“Eww!” Past Soren snatches his hand back.
Lyall’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing. “Sorry! It’s a wolf greeting. How do humans greet each other?”
