Chapter 69: Nice

Friday afternoon was unusually warm for mid-January, even with the overcast skies. Everything was wet from melting snow, but the sidewalks were clear of ice or slush for the first time in a month. Wildlife was taking full advantage of the break in the winter to top off their food stores.

At one particular freshly-filled birdfeeder hanging from a tree in someone’s front yard,  numerous birds jockeyed for the choicest seeds. A finch alighted on a perch attached to the feeder, forcing a chickadee to hop over to make room. On the ground, several sparrows hopped about, gobbling up seeds spilled from above. Suddenly, an opportunistic crow barreled in, and the sparrows scattered, only to return a few seconds later.

From her knees on the edge of the yard, Sophia slowly leaned forward to place her hands in front of her. Focusing on the crow, she tensed her body, trying to block out the disorienting mismatch between the signals her brain expected from her body and what it was actually receiving. The crow hopped a few times, grabbed a black-oiled sunflower seed from the ground, and looked around as it downed it.

If I move while it’s pecking, I might have a chance to catch it. She went completely still as the bird looked at her. I can’t get it with my teeth or bring up my forep- hands in time, so I’ll have to tackle it. The crow went back to pecking, and Sophia prepared to charge again. Wait, what’s that?

On the edge of her peripheral vision, she registered a flicker of movement. Slightly turning her head, she looked at the trunk of the tree near the feeder. For a moment, she didn’t see anything, but then something briefly flicked past the side of the tree.

It looked kind of fuzzy? I’m not smelling anything…

The… thing, flicked into view again, further down the tree. Curious, Sophia watched, forgetting about the birds. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long before what had grabbed her attention showed itself — a decidedly well-fed squirrel jumped onto the ground from behind the tree, ran a few feet towards the bird feeder, and hopped up on its hind legs to look around.

A squirrel would make for a much better meal than a tiny bird. Sophia watched desirously as it scampered the rest of the way to the seeds on the ground. If I can get between it and the tree, I might have a chance.

Rising to all fours, she got ready to spring forward. 

Not yet…

The squirrel’s head turned fractionally, momentarily taking Sophia out of its field of vision.

Now!

Sophia charged…

…Or rather, she tried to.

Human forelimbs, evolved for throwing, climbing, and grasping, could only be used to awkwardly support her weight. Her digits were too long, sank into the snow too readily, and lacked a means of providing traction. Limbs that were not proportionate placed her center of mass too far forward and too high. Her joints were either too flexible, in the case of her knees, elbows, or shoulders, or not flexible enough, in the case of her ankles. Feet, developed for stability and bearing loads, were too short to provide much in the way of power.

Her boots barely made it from the pavement to the yard before the squirrel had snapped its head towards her. She made it another couple of feet before the squirrel and birds started to scatter. Desperately, she pumped her legs as hard as she could, but all she accomplished was flipping herself over her own planted arm and into the snow. Her last glimpse of the squirrel was it leaping onto the tree and scampering out of view, still many yards away.

This was a really dumb idea; what was I thinking? Sophia pushed herself back onto her knees, suddenly feeling like there were dozens of noses and pairs of eyes on her. I’m supposed to be on my way to Candice’s, not hunting. And certainly not where two-legs can see me.

She tensed as she heard a nearby door open and looked up to see a gray-bearded man opening the storm door of his house.

“Lady, what the hell are you doing?” He asked in bemusement.

Oh… Oh, shit… Sophia felt her chest tighten as panic seized her.

“Sorry,” she stammered, backing away on all fours. “I just wanted to…”

The feeling of cement against her hands reminded her that she was still far from being a wolf, and she awkwardly got to her feet, turned, and took off. Despite nearly running into a couple out for a walk in the last minutes of daylight, she didn’t slow down until she was around the next corner and out of sight.

I hope he wasn’t able to get my scent… Err, get a good look at me. 

Stopping, she turned to check to see if anyone was following. Already warm in her snowsuit in the unusually balmy temperatures, she felt perspiration collecting on her back and brow. Her tongue slipped from her mouth as she tried to catch her breath.

Maybe I should cancel? Bringing her left hand up to her mouth, she licked off a bit of irritating ice and dirt still clinging to it. All I’ve been able to think about today is killing and eating an animal. Why am I craving blood so badly, even after a whole chicken breast?

Her eyes wandered as she picked up movement across the street, and her tongue reflexively tried to wet her nose. It didn’t take long to find what had caught her attention: a snowshoe hare, its white coat hard to see against the snow, was hopping across someone’s yard. Fresh excitement welled up in Sophia, and she subconsciously oriented herself towards the hare.

No, enough embarrassment for one day. Besides, even if it wasn't in the middle of town, hunting by myself is a waste of time. There’s no way I’d be able to catch it, and I was supposed to be at Candice’s half an hour ago. Sophia forced herself to look away and resume walking. She’s got to be getting worried.

She only made it a few feet before her nose twitched as she subconsciously picked up a wolflike scent on the breeze. Anxiety bubbled up inside of her as she looked for the source of the smell.

This is another pack’s territory, and I’m alone…

Her eyes settled on a woman walking towards her on the sidewalk, and then on the terrier at the end of the leash she was carrying. The dog had clearly picked up on Sophia’s scent as well, as it was pausing every few feet to sniff the air and look around. At the sight of the dog, every muscle in Sophia’s body tensed, and her breathing quickened. Her pace slowed, and she slightly bent her knees and readied her arms as she prepared to drop onto all fours. The dog’s scent intensified as she drew closer, and her subconscious was able to supply additional information. For a moment, she was confused by the mismatch between what her eyes and nose were telling her.

He smells wolfish, but he’s small, like a pup. But I think he’s full-grown. Her previous fear turned to curiosity as she appraised the small canine. Logically, I know he’s just a small, uh, dog, but it’s still disorienting.

The terrier suddenly went rigid as it finally linked her to the smell, its tail and ears sticking straight up. Even half a dozen yards away, Sophia could see its nose twitching wildly in her direction. 

“Franky, come on, keep walking!” The woman demanded crossly when she noticed the dog had stopped.

The dog started barking loudly at Sophia, its whole body jerking about with each piercing yip.

‘I don’t know you! This is my territory! Come closer, and I’ll attack!’

Oh, please, you’re a… Sophia blinked and stopped walking. Whoa, I understand some of that. It’s like a simplified version of what I’ve learned from Shadow. Fascinated, she continued to listen intently. Some of it sounds familiar, but I don’t know what it means. He definitely doesn’t know what to make of me, though.

“Sorry, he doesn’t usually get this worked up by people,” the woman apologized, and it took Sophia a moment to realize it was directed at her. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him today. You don’t have to worry, though, he’s all bark.”

He’s much smaller than me; I could just chase him off. Amidst the small dog’s display of bravado, Sophia had no trouble perceiving the dog’s confusion and fear. And he’s terrified of me…

‘I’m warning you! Stay away! …’ The dog snarled.

There’s still the matter of the two-leg, though. Sophia glanced nervously at the dog’s owner, still trying to coax her pet onward. I’ll just go across the street; there’s nothing to be gained from a fight, anyway.

“He’s really quite friendly once he gets to know you,” the woman assured Sophia, tugging on the terrier’s leash. “He just wants to show he’s a big, tough guy. Doncha?”

Sophia ignored the woman as she lowered her gaze to signal she wasn’t looking for a fight. While keeping the dog firmly in sight, she started slowly moving towards the street. Her boots sank into the snow as she stepped onto the verge between the sidewalk and street. Franky's body relaxed even while he continued to bark, sounding a lot more self-confident.

‘Keep going, and there won’t be trouble …’

Don’t flatter yourself. Sophia stepped onto the road and forced herself to turn away from the dog long enough to cross the street. I’m not in my territory, and there are two-legs everywhere.

When she was safely across, she turned to look at the dog. He was still barking, even as the woman moved to scoop him up and carry him back the way they had come.

‘... And stay away …!’

That… was interesting. Sophia watched the dog and woman disappear into a house as she tried to process the last few minutes. I actually understood most of what he ‘said,’ but it’s so simple and concrete compared to Shadow. Maybe Shadow is teaching me the common stuff first; that would make sense.

The feeling and sound of her phone vibrating shook her out of her thoughts. Pulling it out, she was unsurprised to find a message from Candice wondering where she was. Putting the small dog out of her mind, Sophia dashed off a reassurance that she was on her way. She slipped the phone back into her pocket and resumed walking, fighting a growing sense of unease as daylight began to fade.

I’ve walked to Candice’s this way a hundred times, but nothing feels familiar. Even stuff I know I’ve seen before seems strange. It’s like my memories belong to a completely different person. Her head reflexively turned towards the base of a tree where a dog had peed recently. Maybe because I don’t know how anything smells? I don’t have time to fix that, unfortunately.

She reached the end of the block and turned left more by muscle memory than conscious decision.

The last time I went to her house, there were Halloween decorations everywhere and no snow. Hard to believe that was only three months ago that this all began. Ahead, she could see the road Candice’s house was on. I’ve already changed so much.

A dog behind a fence started barking as she passed. Unlike the terrier, this one’s barks were much friendlier, although Sophia got the distinct impression it was just as confused.

‘Come here! Smell … ?’

I’m starting to understand strange wol… dogs, for example. Her gait slowed as she felt a strong desire to investigate the scent of the unfamiliar canid. Wait, she wants me to come into her territory? Why isn’t she trying to defend her pack’s territory? Feeling puzzled by the dog’s gregarious behavior, Sophia watched it run back and forth behind the fence slats until she was past the house. Dogs smell so much like wolves, but their behavior can be really strange.

A few houses down, there were traces of yet another unknown canid, and Sophia’s loneliness and sense of vulnerability started to get the better of her.

A wolf belongs with her mate and pack. The soft pull towards the wilderness and Shadow she always felt became a strong tug. I shouldn’t be here.

Her vision started to narrow, and her legs suddenly felt weak. Stumbling, she fought back against her rising panic.

Two-leg, I’m pretending to be a two-leg, just like I was when I was here three months ago. Forcing herself to remember the many other times she had been on this very sidewalk, her anxiety started to ebb. You know, wolves and werewolves are always portrayed as fearsome and fearless in two-leg stories. Of course, I start turning into a wolf, and I’m scared of everything.

After a few more houses, Candice’s cream colored two-story house finally came into view. It looked much as it had three months before, minus the Halloween decorations. Despite the empty driveway, the living room window was lit, as was one of the upstairs bedrooms. Sophia automatically tried to find any scents she recognized as she approached but, as ever, her nose was incapable of meeting her brain’s expectations. The lack of identifiable smells combined with her intimate visual familiarity threatened to send her back into a panic.

Candice’s parents are gone, but what if they come back early? Does her dad still think I’m doing drugs? I forgot to ask if Lynn was home; what will she say? I’ve been eating, why am I craving fresh meat and blood so much? Shadow hasn’t caught anything for me in almost a week. What if he doesn’t want to hunt for me anymore?

Again, she forced herself to draw on memories that felt like they belonged to another lifetime.

We used to climb that old oak tree in her front yard. Her eyes fell on a mound of snow. I remember crying when they had to cut it down. So many memories here.

Before she knew it, she was standing on Candice’s porch. Sophia shifted uncomfortably, trying to get sweat-soaked fabric off her back as she stared at the front door. Failing that, she sighed and took a step forward, but stopped when she picked up a trace of the sage air freshener Candice’s mother liked to use. Her nose twitched as she leaned in close to the seam between the door and jamb.

I wonder how many more times I’ll come here? She leaned her forehead against the door. Ooh, is that cheese and ham?

Without warning, the door opened, and she stumbled forward into Candice’s equally surprised sister, Lynn.