Hawk and the Wolf

by Hopeslastchance, Kim_Knight

Summary:

We set out to write a fairy story – this is the result …

Notes:

And done x

Chapter 1

The cloudless sky was the creature’s domain, and it soared with the freedom afforded its kind.  Perfectly formed wings and feathers aligned for optimum lift saw the hawk lift in easy circles, carried higher on unseen thermals.  Below, the regular shapes of human habitation became blurred – as much by its lack of interest in the straw rooved houses as the distance from it.  Only the darker lines that joined in a cross at the centre of the small village showed clearly yet was of no more interest to the bird.  The slightest shift of wing tips saw the hawk cruise beyond the boundary of the village and over trees that marked the unruly edge of dense woodland.  Passing over a field with a single house at its centre and a smaller structure slightly further up the field, the hawk’s shadow glided over the lush grass and feeding horse, up the angled field bordered by the woodland.  A woodland that stretched for miles in either direction, far enough to reach the boundaries of larger villages to the South while the northern edge thinned as it stretched towards the mountains.  The woodland housed many small clearings where winter storms or simply age had claimed many a mighty oak or cedar to see it reclaimed by the earth that had sustained it for countless generations.  The hawk cruised over one such clearing where a slim outline, stretched out on the mossy ground, sent the bird to the west in search of a less inhabited clearing where rabbits might soon emerge as dusk prepared to settle over the land.

 

She smiled as she watched the outline of the hawk soar enigmatically across her field of vision.  Moments later the haunting cry of the bird echoed down to her, and she waited to hear its mate call in reply.  Only silence echoed back, and she felt a sudden melancholy for the bird with no mate to return its call. 

  ‘Alone like me then,’ she said as she watched the bird disappear out of sight.  She shook her head, dispersing sympathy for the creature.  They were not alike – she did not share its innate need for companionship.  She wondered if she ever had – she certainly couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t longed for solitude.

The subtle change in light had her sitting up and reaching for her pack and the string of three rabbits, placed by her side when she had decided to lie beneath the blue sky of the closing day.  She was deep in the woods and if she didn’t start heading back soon then she ran the danger of losing the light completely to spend a night deep amongst the trees.  Although that was of little concern, she had the convenience of small camp at the edge of the woods on the road leading to the village with a seated fire that could be easily started once more having been laid for the three nights she had been here.  She slung the three coneys over her shoulder, adjusting her red braid so it hung over her other shoulder.  She imagined that the rabbits would be a fair exchange for a warm meal and maybe a drink at the tavern – but only if she got them to him that night.  She considered her options as she walked, her innate sense of direction carrying her along the feint track that would take her back to the main path through the woods.  If she restarted the fire at her camp and settled there for the night, she would need to gut and skin the rabbits before she could eat.  But at least she would have the meat to herself and could sell the skins the following day.  She sighed, considering the hearty stew that every tavern would have made that morning and kept heated all day.  It was a good few days since she had had such a sustaining meal, but it was perhaps the thought of a tankard of mead to wash it down that sealed her decision.

Thoughts of the tavern had her walking a little faster, but a lifetime spent travelling kept her senses keen, especially when the light really started to fade.  This part of the land was furthest east and so it grew darker far quicker than to the west from where she had most recently travelled.  She wasn’t from the West – she had no idea where she hailed from since she had never known a permanent home.  A fact that gave no concern or thought.  After all, she knew no different.  She was born to the trees and to the movement of ground beneath her feet.  The land was her home, her bed and her larder and she loved her home and all it had given her. 

Had she been less attuned to her surroundings, she might have missed the dark speckles on the leaves to her right.  But, when you lived somewhere where you were not the top of the predatory pecking order, you remained alert to threats and the shadow of dried blood was always something to be wary of.  A predator with its meal was a fearsome enemy and a wounded creature could be just as dangerous.  She had once been speared through the calf by the tusk of a young boar who had charged from the undergrowth, screeching in pain and fear.  She had quickly bound the wound and then tracked the unfortunate beast until she found where it had inevitably succumbed to blood loss and was laying, panting on the once dry leaves.  She had swiftly ended its misery caused by unknown foe and carried its carcass to an area where she knew the remains would be well received by a family of foxes and their spring young.

Ears alert to any sound – predator or victim – she dropped to one knee to check her first assessment and, finding herself accurate, she carefully traced the blood trail a little further.  She had barely gone beyond the path when her jaw and fists tightened.  The trap was poorly made and clearly unattended, meaning that whatever unfortunate creature had been caught within it had not died quickly and retained enough strength and will to live to struggle free.  Although judging by the dried blood that remained, life would not have been with it for long.  Shaking her head, she set about dismantling the trap, hands shaking with fury.  As she worked, too much anger boiled in her veins and as she set her dagger to prise the wooden support from the ground, she did so with too little care and snapped a large section from the tip of the blade.  Cursing, she set back on her haunches and stared at the ruined weapon – her best means of defence beneath the trees.  Taking a breath and pushing tendrils of sweat speckled hair from her eyes, she tossed her braid over her back and returned her attention to the task.

By the time she had removed the vile trap, her hands were filthy with dirt and blood.  Setting her broken dagger into its sheath, she headed towards one of the many streams that snaked through the area.  Thankfully, the tree cover was a little thinner here and a bright moon and clear sky provided more than enough light to see by.  Choosing a spot where the water ran deepest, she tied the trap into a bundle and tossed it into the water.  Safer to let the water soften and rot the parts than risk another animal stumbling across the remains when they were called by the scent of blood. 

She knelt to wash her hands and splashed water on her face to reduce the dried residue of her efforts in destroying the trap.  As she blinked away the water, a movement the other side of the stream caught her attention.  Even through her blurred vision, the outline was distinctive, and she slowly lifted fingers to clear her vision.  The initial bolt of fear at seeing the dark wolf was tempered slightly by the sight of a white tipped ear, although such familiarity did not make her relax.  This might have been the third time she had seen the creature while in these woods but, just because it had kept its distance up until now, she was not foolish enough to think the thing tame.  And now, the thought of the three rabbits laying on the ground just behind her was enough to return the anxiety that the sight of that white tipped ear had removed.

  ‘You again,’ she said, voice firm and far calmer than she felt.  As a human, she had no real physical presence with which to intimidate the creature but had been taught, as a child, that a human voice – carried with confidence – could cause enough unease to keep a lone wolf at bay.  She had never had cause to test the lesson but could only hope that the width of the stream would add to the theory and dissuade the wolf from its interest in her.  When she had seen the beast twice before – fur shining like the black of darkest night – it had been as she had collected firewood close to her camp.  She had briefly met its gaze from within the shadows and stood her ground, waiting for it to move on.  It had done so, quickly losing interest and disappearing into the trees to be lost from view within an instant.  But on those two occasions she had been with her back to her fire and without the enticement of the three rabbits.  Her eyes scanned the water between them, wondering if even the hungriest of wolves would risk a soaking for such a poor meal.  Deciding that it probably wouldn’t and with night now fully upon her, she knew that she could delay her journey no more.  Carefully, she climbed to her feet, eyes on the wolf in case it decided to prove her wrong.  When it remained standing, alert but unconcerned, she gave a nod of respect and took a step back, stopping to retrieve her trio of prizes from the ground.  A few more steps backwards would take her into the full shadows of the trees, but she paused, gaze carried across the stream.  Without real thought, nimble fingers untied one of the knots and a throw from a strong arm carried the rabbit easily to the opposite bank.  The wolf’s gaze did not leave her, and she kept it on her until she felt the embrace of the trees’ shadows.

 

The glow of lanterns beckoned her towards the village as she exited the trees and strolled towards the main road leading into it.  She entered the tavern a few minutes later to find it half full and already raucous, the sounds harsh on ears used to solitude.  But, as with the wolf, she kept her discomfort hidden beneath a calm, confident demeanour and approached the wooden counter.

The portly man who greeted her with a nod and twitch of his moustache, had kind eyes and friendly countenance.  Kind eyes that dropped to the thump of rabbits landing on the wood where his hands rested.  His eyes lifted back to hers, an eyebrow arching, ‘Food or drink?  Or a bed on the floor by the fire?’

She didn’t need to look over her shoulder to know that the floor before the hearth would be sticky with spilt mead and she had no need for it anyway.  ‘Food,’ she said as she turned back.

He nodded, seemingly in approval and clicked his fingers.  A pretty young thing with enough features shared with the man to reveal her as his daughter, disappeared long enough to return with a large bowl of steaming stew.  As it was placed on the counter, along with a battered wooden spoon, the man swapped a wooden cup for the pair of rabbits.

  ‘Make it a trio next time and there will be mead instead of water in that cup,’ he told her.

  ‘Yeah,’ she chuckled to herself, shaking her head at his frown and laughing again as she carried her meal and drink to the furthest, quietest corner.

 

The stew was good, and she relished each mouthful, washing it down with the water.  She hadn’t been finished for long when slim hands took the bowl and cup and replaced them with another cup of water.

  ‘Do you have a name then?’

She looked up at the owner’s daughter – her hair was like fine corn and her features were rather pleasant.  ‘I do,’ the redhead replied, nodding her thanks and sipping her replacement water.

The girl quirked an eyebrow, ‘Care to share?’

  ‘You first,’

  ‘Chrissy,’

  ‘Nicole,’

Chrissy stacked the empty cup into the bowl, ‘You know, if I spoke to my father, I bet I could get you a bed for the night,’

Nicole’s smile was devilish as she replied, ‘Is that so?’

The younger woman flushed pink, ‘In return for some manual work come the morning,’ she explained quickly.

Nicole had guessed what she meant but still enjoyed her embarrassment with good humour.  ‘I appreciate the offer but …’ she raised a shoulder, ‘… I don’t sleep well indoors,’

  ‘A gypsy, eh?’

  ‘I have no clan to call my own,’ she explained, ‘But like them, I have spent my life beneath the sky and the ground ever moving beneath my feet,’

Chrissy’s eyes twinkled in delight at Nicole’s lyrical description of her life, but her enjoyment gave way to concern, ‘Isn’t it dangerous to sleep alone in the woods?’

The sound of a shout was followed by a smashing tankard.  The pair looked over to the other side of the tavern where a brawl had broken out. 

  ‘I prefer the company out there,’ Nicole responded easily, eyes on one of the young men who was better dressed than the others and goading the pair, who were squaring off, into punching each other senseless.  She brought her attention back to Chrissy, ‘But if I find out who was responsible for the vile trap I destroyed earlier, they won’t enjoy my company,’

Chrissy grimaced, ‘Yes – we have needed to discard many creatures trapped poorly in those woods.  Those rabbits you brought in earlier were well caught, my father should have given your more by return,’

Nicole looked up, ‘I will take more on the value if you are offering,’

Chrissy’s eyes narrowed, ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Introduction to the local lawman – that trap I dismantled should not go unacknowledged,’

Chrissy sighed and shook her head, ‘Our village is too small to have a lawman of our own, my father settles small disputes amongst us,’ she glanced towards the counter where the portly man was watching the brawl as it fizzled out, ‘But I’m afraid he will be unable to assist you,’

Nicole was suddenly annoyed that she had thrown the remains of the trap into the stream rather than keeping it to show as evidence.  ‘Will he not trust my word?’ she queried.

  ‘He would but he would be able to do nothing by return,’ she said apologetically, eyes flashing to the better dressed man who was laughing at the blackening eye of one his friends, ‘Some fights are just not worth it,’

Nicole studied the man further, recognising  an arrogant twist to his features, ‘He is moneyed?’

  ‘Youngest son of the local magistrate.  His family were from this village, but good fortune saw them move more than a day’s ride to a town at the East.  He stays here most days and nights to enjoy lording it over us rather than suffer his father’s growing disappointment,’

Nicole looked up at the young woman’s tone, picking up on more to be said but words that were not readily shared.  She had no care for local gossip and asked simply, ‘You think it was him that set that poor trap?’

Chrissy nodded, ‘He is unskilled in many things that he believes he is expert,’

  ‘Then perhaps I should have words with him,’

Slim fingers curling over her shoulder pressed Nicole back to her seat, ‘Did you not hear me?’

  ‘Money and good clothes do not scare me,’

Chrissy leant forward to whisper conspiratorially, ‘There are rumours that he has more than money and power at his back,’

Nicole curled an eyebrow, ‘Oh?’

Chrissy straightened, stating firmly, ‘No one crosses the Hardy family, that is my advice to you,’

Nicole huffed angrily and tossed back the last of the water before giving her grumbled thanks and leaving the tavern.

 

~*~

 

The sound of a hammer striking metal was loud in the cool dawn air.  Although once she stepped beneath the roof the of the shelter, the air became heavy with the heat from the open coal furnace at the centre.  The ringing of iron on steel made her flinch but she held her ground until the blacksmith turned to force the dulling orange blade back into the coals.

Dark eyes studied Nicole through the swirl of sparks.  Her voice was deep and raspy from years of breathing the heated air, ‘You want something?’ 

Nicole pulled her broken knife from the sheath at her waist and held it out.

The blacksmith didn’t take it but just studied the broken blade with a quickly appraising eye.  ‘Best thing for that would be to toss it in there,’ she commented, nodding at the furnace.  The movement sent a dark ponytail trailing over her shoulder, but it was flicked away just as quickly when strands of hair stuck to the sweat beading across her collarbone.

Nicole sighed but asked hopefully, ‘Can you do anything with it?’

The blacksmith’s question came with a penetrating gaze, as if she were judging the truth of Nicole’s response even before she had spoken, ‘How’d it get broken?’

  ‘I was dismantling a trap in the woods,’ she replied, not attempting to hide her anger.

  ‘One of Hardy’s no doubt,’ the blacksmith sneered and reached for the knife.  After a moment’s study, she waved towards the wall behind her, ‘You’d be better choosing a new one,’

Nicole looked longingly at the rack of blades but shook her head, ‘I don’t have the means with which to precure one,’

Pursing her lips, the dark-haired woman set the blade onto her anvil and took a breath, ‘You a tracker?  A hunter?’

  ‘More of a trapper but I can hunt, yes,’ Nicole replied.

  ‘Huh,’ the blacksmith grunted thoughtfully, ‘Reckon a few points would see one of my knives to your hand,’

Nicole rubbed her fingers across her chin.  She had seen a few deer in the woods but no pointed stags.  ‘What about boar tusk?’ she suggested.

  ‘I got plenty of that and I don’t much care for it anyway,’ came the terse reply, ‘It’ll be antler or nothing,’

Nicole knew that a few coins would see her way to a new knife but to get those coins would take several days hard work in the village. Whereas one successful hunt would do the same.

The blacksmith seemed to read her thoughts, ‘Aye – coin will do the same,’  Lifting the blade, she ran her thumb over the broken point, ‘Was a bad trap then?’

  ‘One of the worst I’ve ever seen,’

On the back of a quiet curse came an offer, ‘I can grind this down and make it useable in the short of it,’

  ‘I don’t have any coin to pay for your time,’

The statement was waved away, ‘Reckon you broke the blade doing the right thing – that’s coin enough,’

 ‘I take it you are not a friend of that boy, Hardy,’

Her only answer was to set the blade back on the anvil, ‘Come back here in a short while – it’ll be done by then,’

Giving her thanks, she turned to head out, the blacksmith’s voice echoing after her.

  ‘Stop by the tavern – reckon someone there has probably seen a stag in our woods if there’s one worth seeing,’

 

Like most villages, the residents rose with the sun and Chrissy was sweeping the front step of the tavern as Nicole approached.  Not noticing the redhead’s approach, a pile of dust landed on worn boots.

  ‘Oh lord – I’m sorry,’ Chrissy chuckled with little actual apology.

  ‘It’s fine,’ Nicole laughed with her, kicking the worst of the dust off lest she walk it back inside.

  ‘How about I apologise with a bowl of porridge?’

Her father’s voice echoed from behind her, ‘Coin or meat, girl, words don’t pay for bed or food under this roof, you know that,’

Chrissy shook her head in mock dismay and beckoned Nicole to follow, ‘Don’t worry, he still owes you some for those rabbits.  Have a seat and I’ll bring you a bowl,’

If Chrissy’s father complained any further, he did it quietly enough that Nicole didn’t hear.  Even though she was currently the only customer, she took her seat at the same corner table as the night before.

An impressive bowl of porridge was set in front of her and Nicole looked up, smiling her thanks.  Chrissy winked but her smile turned to a grimace and a sigh when the sound of heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs.

  ‘You okay?’ Nicole asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ she tried to laugh, ‘Champ got drunk last night, and father had to give him a bed for the night – he’ll have a sore head this morning and a worse attitude than normal,’

Although Chrissy had only used the family name of the bullish young man from the night before, Nicole was not surprised to see who staggered into the main area, hand pressed to his head.  His fine clothes were crumpled and creased, his hair tousled to match his limited  ability to stand.  He dropped onto a stool, nearly fell off, righted himself and banged on the wooden counter, demanding mead.  He was given a cup of water and drank it through grumbled complaint.

  ‘You called him Hardy,’ Nicole commented as she dipped her spoon.

Chrissy leant closer, whispering, ‘He tells everyone to call him Champ because he’s the best fighter and hunter around here,’

Nicole almost spat out the porridge but managed to swallow and stare aghast at her smiling companion, ‘Truly?’

  ‘Well, he isn’t, obviously, but ...’

She left Nicole to finish the sentence, ‘No one messes with the Hardy’s?’

Chrissy’s reply was answer enough, ‘We call him Champ to keep him quiet, but his buddies probably believe it,’

  ‘Yeah,’ Nicole agreed, ‘and they look as dim as puddle water,’

Chrissy laughed her agreement as she returned to her chores.

 

By the time Nicole had finished, Champ had taken a bowl and sat at a table by the fire where he ate slowly, as if struggling to find his mouth with the spoon.

The tavern owner – Nedley she had heard him called – took the bowl without comment when Nicole brought it to the counter.  He took it into the back and then returned, crossing his arms over his broad chest when he found that Nicole had stayed, his eyebrow arched in question.

  ‘Has anyone mentioned seeing a pointed stag in the woods?’ she asked.

  ‘You planning to hunt?’ he asked by way of reply.

  ‘I am – if someone’s told you that there’s one out there,’

Champ appeared by her side, slamming the half-eaten bowl of porridge on the counter, ‘You can keep your damn swill …’ he snarled at Nedley and then declared to Nicole, ‘If there’s a stag worth having in those woods – I’d have had it already,’

Nicole ignored him, keeping her focus on the older man, ‘Have you heard anything?’

Nedley responded only with his eyes that looked towards Champ, encouraging Nicole to turn towards the younger man.

  ‘Did you hear what I said …’ his eyes roved down and back up her lithe frame, ‘… woman?’

  ‘I heard you,’

  ‘Well then, you’d best pay heed,’

  ‘And why is that?’

He seemed taken aback and scrambled for an answer, ‘Well – cos I’m the best hunter and trapper around here,’

Nicole noticed the way Nedley shifted – clearly he thought the same of Champ’s skills as she did.  ‘If the trap I found yesterday was one of yours, I would debate that self-proclaimed mantle,’

Champ huffed angrily and squared his shoulders but quickly seemed to remember he was alone and waved her away – although it was him who headed for the door, slamming it shut behind him.

  ‘My daughter mentioned that you had taken apart one of Hardy’s traps,’ Nedley announced with a nod of approval followed by an offer, ‘Bring me anymore that you find, and they’ll carry the weight of a rabbit in food or mead,’

Nicole shook her head, ‘I won’t take payment for dealing with his ineptitude,’

Nedley considered that for a moment before asking, ‘Why are you looking for a stag anyways?’

  ‘I need a new blade and the blacksmith wants either coin or antler for one,’

  ‘Ah,’ he nodded with a knowing smile, ‘she drives a hard bargain that Mattie Purley,’

  ‘I found her fair,’ Nicole responded, thinking of the way the blacksmith had offered her skill for free in shared attitude of Hardy’s poor traps.

  ‘Well then,’ he announced thoughtfully, ‘I know there’s a herd of deer out to the mountain edge of the woods.  There are no people that side ‘cos of the harsh ground, so the deer done alright for themselves.  If there’s points to be had – it will be out there,’ he rubbed his moustache, ‘Mind – if you don’t manage a stag, a couple of hides would get you some coin from the tanner.  You know you aint gonna trap any though – do you have a bow?’

Nicole had already considered that and decided to be on the lookout for a yew tree on her way back to camp.  ‘I have plans to make one,’ she responded with quiet confidence and no hint of arrogance.

  ‘Huh,’ Nedley grunted and turned to disappear into the room behind the counter.  He emerged with a fine look bow and loaded quiver.  ‘Chrissy’s mother made this.  She had hoped to show Chrissy how to use it but …’ he shook himself, ‘Never mind that.  Here – you can borrow it,’

Nicole stared at the bow and quiver that was set on the bar between them.  She didn’t move to take it, instead she just looked up at him with a look of surprise.  He was putting a lot of faith in a stranger.

  ‘My Chrissy has her mother’s gift for reading people,’ he told her with a smile, ‘At least that was something shared before she passed,’

Nicole thanked him with quiet, solemn words and lifted the bow.  It was expertly made and if it had not been used for a while, it had still been well kept.  ‘Perhaps, before I move on, I could give your daughter some instruction on how to use it?’

His smiled widened, ‘That would be a gift I would not shy from, thank you,’

She nodded and shouldered the quiver, ‘All gratitude should be for you,’

He lifted his large hand, embarrassed and said quickly, ‘One other thing – hides will get you coin as long as it’s not a wolf skin,’

Nicole had no intent to hunt a wolf – and never had.  But she was intrigued by the tavern owner’s need to say it.  ‘How so?’

  ‘Wolves are few in those woods and Hardy decreed that no one is to hunt them but him – even had his father put his seal to a declaration on it,’

Nicole thought of the black wolf with the white-tipped ear and asked, ‘And does he hunt them?’

  ‘Never known him too,’ Nedley replied, leaning closer to whisper conspiratorially, ‘You ask me, Hardy is too scared to track and hunt a wolf, but he doesn’t want anyone else to do it and show him up,’

The words made sense and did nothing to improve Champ Hardy’s standing in Nicole’s eyes – although, if his cowardice kept him from hunting the noblest creatures Nicole knew, she would take it as the blessing it was.

Thanking the tavern owner once more, Nicole stepped out into warming of the day.  Wondering if she had given the blacksmith enough time, she was still standing on the front step when Chrissy appeared behind her and motioned her to go outside.  Doing as asked, she followed her to the corner of the tavern and waited for her to speak.

  ‘I heard my father direct you to the mountain edge of the woods …’

Nicole nodded, ‘I require a pointed stag to offer the blacksmith,’

Chrissy looked at the bow and smiled wistfully, ‘My mother’s arrows will fly true,’  She shook herself, seeming to recall her intention in bringing Nicole to the quiet spot, ‘If you find yourself to the North-East, stay within the treeline – do not pass the line of cairns,’

Nicole frowned, picturing a line of piled stones, ‘Oh?’

  ‘My father thinks me foolish but … everyone knows to leave the Stone Woman be – she welcomes no one as visitor to her land,’

  ‘Thank you for the advice,’ Nicole smiled, amused by the other woman’s apparent superstition and then turned to head to the blacksmith.

 

As she neared, she heard voices from within the forge and slowed her step.  She hovered near the entrance to make her presence known while also making it clear that she was happy to wait while not eavesdropping – at least, that’s what she hoped she was silently saying.  A life spent in the wilds and moving from place to place sometimes led to misunderstandings of social niceties.  

With nothing better to do, her gaze naturally drifted into the dancing shadows of the forge and there it lingered – or rather, it lingered on the small frame of the rather attractive young woman who was talking quietly to the blacksmith.  As Nicole watched, the woman handed over some pelts, took a few coins with a nod of thanks and then headed out the side that faced away from the village.

The blacksmith – that Nicole could now name Mattie Purley – waved her in once the other woman had left.  Intrigued, Nicole nodded at the pelts laying over the anvil, ‘Wouldn’t she have got better coin from the tanner?’

Mattie seemed monetarily offended but then seemed to remember that Nicole was an outsider and sighed, ‘I give her the best I can – which is more than the tanner will,’

  ‘Oh?’

She glanced after the path the young woman had taken, ‘No one in the village will buy anything from her – although they are happy to take her coin,’

Nicole felt her anger rise – as it usually did when she sensed injustice. 

  ‘Not my story to share,’ Mattie announced as she moved the pelts and replaced their space on the anvil with Nicole’s repaired knife, ‘This will last you a little longer,’

The woman forgotten, Nicole lifted the blade.  It was far shorter now, but the edge and point were wicked sharp once more and she smiled her gratitude.  ‘I cannot thank you enough,’

  ‘My concern was that you would be unarmed within those woods …’ her eyes shifted to the bow and quiver, ‘… such concerns were unfounded it seems,’

Nicole ran her fingers over the feathers of the arrows, ‘A generous loan from the tavern owner to aid in a hunt for a stag – that’s all – but gratefully accepted just the same,’

  ‘Huh,’ the blacksmith grunted in dismissal and turned her attention to the forge and the blade that had been heating within the coals.

With no more to be said and the blacksmith clearly having no intention of sparking further conversation, Nicole turned and left.  For reasons unknown, she found herself following the little used path out of the village that the smaller woman had taken.  In the distance she could see the expanse of woodland and took a moment to track left, to align her bearings with the location of her camp.  A glance at the sun to gauge the time and she headed towards the woods – taking the feintest of paths that seemed only one pair of feet traversed semi-regularly.

She enjoyed her unhurried stroll across the open land, occasionally catching sight of the woman in the distance.  But it was only a glance and nothing to tie her thoughts up for too long.  There were brief moments when she wondered why the woman – pretty little thing for sure – had been shunned by the village.  But these moments were fleeting.  By choice, Nicole knew little about life lived as part of a larger community and so had little to no idea about how conflicts could arise and the resulting consequences of them.  As such, she could do little more than appreciate the outline of the woman and just continue on her unhurried way.

The feint track she was following started to peel round to the right and Nicole paused, lifting a hand to shadow her eyes so she could look into the distance.  She squinted a little, just able to make out the shapes of a couple of buildings and some livestock fencing.  The track, which continued to bend towards it, would lead her from the woodland and so she stepped off and made her own path towards the trees, brushing through longer grass with easy steps and mind settling to her intent.

 

*

 

Despite finding some hopeful looking tracks, she found only young bucks and does.  Even so, she did not return to the tavern that night empty handed.  She carried across her shoulders an older doe as well as three traps she had ripped from the ground.  She had gutted the doe by the stream on the way back to her camp and left the rich offal on the far bank where she had thrown the rabbit the day before.  She had no idea whether the white-tipped wolf or some other lucky scavenger would find the free meal, but she was happy to leave it anyway.  The woods had provided for her, and she would always return the favour with whatever she had available.

Champ was sitting with his buddies by the fire and watched her with sneering looks as she handed the carcass over to Nedley.  It was taken with the offer of a room for the night, but Nicole refused him with a warm thanks and, ‘I prefer my camp at the edge of the woods,’

  ‘And we’re all grateful for that,’ Champ shouted, ‘No one needs to smell you for any longer than we have to,’

Nicole was unconcerned by his words.  Such jibes had been thrown at her for years and they had long since failed to penetrate.  The judgement of arrogant village dwellers – who assumed that life beneath the woodland canopy meant she never washed – was not worth the breath used to form the words and she certainly wouldn’t waste her own by responding.  But that didn’t mean that she had no words to share.  The look of surprise on Champ’s face as she approached the table was swiftly accompanied by a gasp of sudden fright when she slammed the three broken snares onto the table. 

He righted himself, perhaps remembering that his buddies were with him, and glared at her, ‘What is your concern?’

  ‘Merely returning what is yours, I believe,’

He studied the traps a little closer and snarled, ‘They aint mine,’

The few patrons in the tavern fell silent and looked over.

Champ sensed their eyes on him and announced with authority, ‘And whoever’s they are – you had no right to remove – ’

  ‘I have every damned right!’ she shouted and pointed at the cruel devices, ‘These would bring nothing but suffering to any creature caught in them,’

He waved his hand angrily, ‘Who cares?’

  ‘I care!’ she responded and took a breath, ‘I can show you how to make these traps better so anything caught has a swift end without misery,’

He huffed a laugh, ‘I told you – those traps are not mine.  And even if they were, how is a woman going to give me instruction on how to set a trap!’ he laughed again, seeking the approval of his friends as he continued, ‘Now make yourself useful, wench, and fetch us some mead,’

Nicole’s fingers closed into fists, ‘Perhaps you need instruction on more than just how to set a trap – a lesson in respect, perhaps?’

He jumped up, thighs banging the table and spilling tankards across its pitted surface.  Face furious, he pointed at her, ‘Were you not a woman I would ask you outside and show you a lesson in respect,’

She laughed, ‘Were you half the man you claim to be, I might even have accepted,’  Leaving her words to turn his features red, she turned her back and returned to the counter.

Nedley was half smirking as he set a bowl of stew and tankard of mead in front of her.  Behind, she heard Champ shout angrily as he threw the broken traps into the fire and then called for more tankards of drink.

Chrissy paused by Nicole’s shoulder as she returned from serving their drinks, ‘Perhaps you should take father’s offer of a room – Champ is angry that you embarrassed him,’

  ‘He embarrassed himself,’ Nicole smiled at her, ‘Trust me – I have faced scarier things in the shadows of those trees than a spoiled little man,’

 

*

 

Nicole was staring into the flames of her campfire, deciding to settle into her bedroll soon, when movement caught her attention.  It wasn’t arrogance that had seen her refuse Chrissy’s suggestion, but rather a genuine belief that Hardy would drink himself into a stupor and forget all about the exchange between them.  And although she was surprised to see him approaching from the shadows, she didn’t acknowledge his presence, not even when he was standing the other side of the campfire. 

  ‘Oi,’ he offered in greeting, ‘Some woodsman you are when you didn’t even know I was here,’

Nicole sighed inwardly at yet another show of ignorance – part of surviving in the woods was an ability to recognise when you had been spotted.  For Champ to genuinely believe she hadn’t noticed him said more about his own abilities than it did hers.  And since her abilities were far superior, she also knew that at least three of his buddies were hiding in the shadows.

  ‘What do you want?’ she asked calmly, poking the fire with a stick and sending embers in his direction.

He huffed and stepped back, waving his hand as if to disperse a sudden flash of flames.  She stared at him, bored by how pathetic he truly was.

  ‘I came to recover the cost of those traps you destroyed,’

  ‘Oh?’ she sighed, ‘I thought they weren’t yours,’

  ‘It doesn’t matter whose they were – you’re going to pay for pulling them up …’ he half stepped around the fire, ‘… and I don’t mean with coin, you fucking cur,’

Nicole was on her feet in an instant, lips curling with fury at the way his tone and expression carried the insult with staggering contempt.  As she stood, she smelt the drink on him and knew that he was being given false courage.  Her innate sense of morality kicked in and she heard herself growl, ‘Back off, little man, you’re not going to win here,’  It was the only chance she would give him, but she had to give it.

  ‘Little man?’ he spluttered.

She watched his features purple and briefly considered her response if she had truly intended for him to rethink his intent.  As a result of her poor choice of words, she might have tried to defuse him one more time – had he not thrown a wild punch in her direction.  She dodged it easily, lifting onto her toes just as she had been taught and sending a parrying blow towards his chin.  Her knuckles found his jaw, snapping his head sideways, his body following in an ungainly stumble.  She had purposefully softened the blow and now she stood, hands raised own intent clear – her next punch would not be so forgiving.  He came at her, bending from the waist to send his shoulder into her midriff, his arms quickly encircling her to lift her from the floor.  She was slammed onto her back, the sounds of delighted shouts from outside the flickering firelight echoing around her.  Champ was heavier than her and she was quick to see the danger of becoming trapped beneath him.  When he lifted to try and crawl up her body, she twisted to send her knee into his ribs and then scrabbled out from under him.  As she did, she was aware that the men, she now realised there were four, had relinquished the shadows in favour of spreading themselves in a loose circle around her small camp.  Their appearance brought Champ to his feet to send a glancing blow to her shoulder, unbalancing himself more than it did Nicole.  She responded with a punch to his stomach that had him dropping to one knee.  He lifted to his feet again and sent a handful of dried leaves at her face. As she tried to shake the dirt from her eyes, he sent a solidly connecting punch to the side of her mouth.  The whoops of delight from his buddies were almost as loud as the thumping pulse through her teeth and jaw.  She swiped at her eyes, grateful for the irritant caused tears that helped to clear her view and then duck under the haymaker that Champ had thrown.  Resurging beneath his arm, her fist connected with his chin, snapping his head up and knocking him straight onto his back.  Instantly, the four men fell silent, shadowed eyes moving from the prostrate Champ back to her.  She turned, trying to keep each of them in view as they closed in.  As soon as one came within range, she struck out to send him staggering and then spun to the others, lifting an arm to block a punch but leaving herself open to a sharp jab to the ribs.  She spun aside, ducking beneath another blow but was quickly surrounded in a closing circle of fists.  The ground was quick to greet her, and the fists became feet, pounding at her with uncoordinated but vicious attacks.  She curled into a ball, using her arms to protect her head as best she could.  Suddenly, her wrists were grabbed and she was hauled to her feet to be greeted by the unpleasant sight of Champ as he swung a heavy stick towards her stomach.  Bent double by the blow, the crack of the branch across the back of her head sent her sprawling in an explosion of white light and then into thumping darkness.

 

~*~

 

Voices raised in shouts had sent the wolf deeper into the woods to stay amongst the denser trees for a time.  The moon was huge in the clear sky above and the beast took solace in the shadows and silence.

The darkest time of night had long passed when the wolf returned to its nightly path, drawn by the need to patrol her territory for unfamiliar scents and to leave her own by return. 

The smell of fire was known to her, but the location of this one was made more familiar by its continued presence in her territory.  Tonight though, she scented more on the breeze, and it brought her path on a wider route to jump the stream and its narrowest point.   She could scent the well-trodden path further on but paid it no heed – she had no intention of getting much closer to that.  The fire she had smelled the past few nights was just ahead, overlayed by the heavier tang of blood.  Keen eyes surveyed the area, seeing by moonlight more than the barely glowing embers that cast strange shadows over the crumpled form. 

The wolf paused to lift snout and scent the air, expecting the aroma of death but finding only the iron-like tang as if it were a taste upon her tongue.

She approached.  Large pads silent on the dry leaves.  She wasn’t hunting but neither was she willing the need to fight.  Another pause – ears twisting to pick up sounds around her.  Hearing only the hurried scuttle of small nighttime creatures who had either seen or scented her, she continued forwards.

She recognised the scent of the body on the ground – it had been carried on the same breeze that had carried the acrid scent of smoke and cooking meat.  A gentle snort stirred fine tendrils of red hair and brushed dried blood from the side of her head.  She licked the disturbed flakes of blood, finding wetter beneath and ruffling her shoulders as she shook her head and huffed again.  Drawn by a need to explore further, her snout snuffled down the unmoving body.  She found no more blood but sensed injuries beneath the cloth.

Soft sniffs and puffs carried her snout back up the torso of the prone woman, a wet, cool nose leaving a thin silvery trail up her neck and across her cheek.  The woman stirred, sending the wolf back with a slow, deliberate half-step.  A hand, pale in the moonlight lifted and the wolf froze as those fingers reached for it.  The urge to curl her lip and bare fangs was overruled by the weakness she sensed from the woman – she was no threat.  Huffing a deeper breath that made the woman whimper weakly, the wolf turned and strolled away.

 

~*~

 

A strong survival instinct might have roused her, but it did little to keep the pain-induced delirium at bay.  Although fear had kept the pain from her awareness at first.  She had opened her eyes to find her blurred vision filled with a shifting shadow and the feel of hot breath on her cheek.  Primal terror had coursed through her veins and nothing else for those first few moments.  She had seen her hand lift – although she was unsure under whose command it had moved – and was aware of the shadow made of fur studying her.  The huff of breath had seemed like the precursor to attack, and she had whimpered in acceptance of a swift death beneath piercing teeth.

But then the shadow of fur turned, a tiny flick of white that seemed so beautifully out of place after her expectance of death … and then she was alone.  Just not for long.  The spectre of pain was quick to join her and wrap ice and stone around her chest.  She moaned and tried to move, lights bouncing behind her eyes, stinging her vision as if she had stared at the midday sun.  She kicked out as the memory of the fists and feet that had struck her returned with such wicked intent that she imagined those blows were still falling.  In effort to save herself, she rolled from the pain – only to find more as her flailing legs found harsh stabs of burning heat.  Crying out, she scrabbled to her feet – escape her only desire.  Through tear-misted vision she caught glimpse of a darker shade of night that was swiftly disappearing from view.  Her delirium, in full control now, saw her stumble after that shadow and the smallest triangle of white.

 

The darkness was her enemy, hiding even the tiniest obstacles to trip her.  Yet when she fell, the darkness welcomed her, promising her peace.  She succumbed to it often but after falling, the pain of her battered body would not allow her peace for long. 

The world, her life as it was – all darkness and stabbing, jabbing pain – came at her in flashes of shadows and sparks of blinding light with no beginning and no end.  She had no awareness of where she was or how she had come to be.  All she knew was the desire to succumb to the shadows yet a stronger desire to escape the death that waited there. 

Had she more awareness, she might have sensed the thinning of the trees as she drew nearer the edge of the wood.  Her stumbling, staggering journey so slow that the first hint of dawn had started to colour the horizon.

She staggered from the trees, those first few hints of light banishing enough of the shadows to give her the weakest sense of escape.  But with that briefest sense of relief, her strength finally failed her, and she collapsed, face turned towards the growing light.

 

The darkness fought hard to keep her, allowing her only brief flashes of confused awareness.  Eyes – a beautiful shade she could not name but which seemed both concerned and angry.  A voice – lilting wonderfully even when deepened by apparent frustration.  The whinny of a horse and that same lilting voice to calm it.  The smell of wood and old cloth.  Then the awful lift and drag of her body and the weak cry she heard wrenched from her own lips yet sounding so far away.  A cry that rebounded over and over through her head, taunting her through her delirium as the ground beneath her bounced and swayed.  Then that same voice carrying words she truly tried to understand as eyes, held in flushed features, tried to keep hers in their gaze.  More movement to bring a whimpering cry and then stillness as all that had come before stole what remained of her senses.

Chapter 2

Summary:

Time for a meeting ...

Notes:

Just a short chapter this week - enjoy :)

Drip … Drip … …. Drip-Drip … Drip …

It was the irregularity of it rather than the sound itself that pulled her from sleep.  She kept her eyes closed, testing the limits of her senses.

Drip-Drip … Drip … Drip …

The rain was loud to her newly awakened hearing but not as loud as the unrhythmic drips that landed somewhere near her head, close enough to feel tiny flecks of water across her forehead and cheek. 

She could only take a shallow breath since, even barely awake, she was still mindful of the tightness clamping her chest and back.  Another shallow, almost nervous breath, and she slowly let her eyes open.  Tight and gritty, she had to blink several times to part the dark clouds across her vision.  Once cleared, it took several moments before her eyes focused on what was before her – or, in fact, above her.  Wood.  But not the wood and canopy of her beloved trees.  Slats, dark and swollen in places, pitted and rotten in others.  She rolled her head to the side, grunting at the steady ache that thumped through her ears and base of her skull to quickly encompass her entire head.  She closed her eyes for a moment until the nausea passed.  When she opened them again she could see nothing past the lines of straw so close to her face that they blocked her poorly reclaimed vision.  She wanted to turn away, to take stock of the rest of the damp room that she found herself in – but fear of the pain that would surely return to nauseating degree kept her head to the side.  That was until the cramp in her neck overrode all other concerns and her head rocked back to its original position.  She winced, swallowing the expected nausea and gasping, ‘Bastards …’ as if that would help alleviate the pain of the suddenly remembered attack.

With remembrance of what had happened came questions.  Mostly, how the hell had she ended up here – wherever this was – when she had a clear and unpleasant memory of falling by her own campfire? 

Lifting a hand to her head brought another question when she felt the strip of material there.  The movement brought awareness of other attentions made.  Her face, which she was sure would have been streaked with blood, felt clean.  And although her lip was swollen around a stinging split, the area itself felt free of dried blood too.  Dropping her hand back to her side and onto a worn blanket sent the rough material scratching across naked skin.  That gave her pause.  She was naked from above the waist.  Well, except for the material wrapped around her mid-torso, possibly holding the poultice that she could feel – now that she was more awake – spreading a pleasant warmth through her ribs.

A soft recollection of female eyes and gentle fingers eased the anxiety before it could grow much further.  She had been attended to by a woman and, if delirium memory served right, a rather attractive, young woman.  She couldn’t help but smile to herself at that and wondered if she had been absent company for a little too long.  She hadn’t, of course.  Nicole would happily go an entire season without seeing anyone.  Her need for food and shelter had always been served beneath the trees or, on occasion, by the sea and rugged landscape if she found herself wandering close to the edge of the land.  Other physical or emotional needs were rarely considered.  Even so, it was a pleasant distraction to remind herself that she could still appreciate a pretty woman.  An appreciation that was particularly pertinent now that she was aware enough to sensibly decide not to move and just take the opportunity of the semi-dry, semi-warm shelter to let her body heal the injuries cast upon it.   With those thoughts drifting through a suddenly tired mind, she let her eyes flutter closed and her breath evened into the light breaths her damaged ribs would allow.

 

*

 

  ‘You are breathing too shallow,’

 

The sharp tone pierced the remainder of her slow wakefulness and made her eyes snap open.  She found herself staring at the young woman she had hoped she had truly seen and not just her mind’s conjuring of something more pleasant to ease her pain.  ‘Hello?’ she ventured.

The woman sighed and Nicole was reminded of the frustration she had heard when her sleeping mind conjured flashes of disjointed awareness.

  ‘You must take deeper breaths,’

Perhaps it was because of the way the woman had already looked after her that Nicole felt obliged to obey her.  She inhaled, taking the breath deep into her lungs and expelling it quickly as a groan and gritting of teeth.

  ‘It will hurt more if you succumb to the illness I have seen another fall to who had a chest damaged just like yours,’ her words were flat, simple, but her eyes carried the ghost of someone close who she had lost in such a way.

Nicole took another, deeper breath just to try and banish the shadows in those beautiful eyes and tried not to wince at the hurt.

  ‘Good,’ came the response and she lifted from her knees, saying no more as she stepped over Nicole and out of the small space.

Nicole felt an instant sense of loss, the space – despite its size – suddenly feeling empty and vast, leaving her to feel small and a little … lonely.  She shook herself, banishing the foolishness with the distraction of another deep breath.

 

When the woman returned and knelt in the small space beside her, Nicole guarded her pleased reaction, hiding it beneath a mumbled, ‘I’ve been taking deep breaths like you ordered,’  She had meant it as a joke but her desire to hide the way the woman’s presence made her want to smile had her sounding harsher than she had intended.  The young woman seemed unconcerned by it though and that bothered Nicole even more.  Was this woman’s reality so harsh that the acerbic tone of a stranger merely rolled off her like water from a duck’s feathers?

  ‘You do yourself more favour than you do me,’ came the cool response.

  ‘I disagree,’ Nicole replied, hoping to bring warmth to the woman with an attempt at humour, ‘If I died here you would be stuck with me,’

The shadows that Nicole had seen earlier flashed briefly across the woman’s eyes but her regret at seeing them was forgotten when the reply was quick to the smaller woman’s lips, ‘Do not concern yourself.  My horse did all the hard work of getting you down here and she would just as easily drag your body on the frame back to the woods where I found you,’

Nicole stared at her as the cold and seemingly callous words echoed around them.  But then she saw how the shadows of grief had become the twinkle of darkest humour and couldn’t help but laugh and then gasp at the sudden cramp caused by it.  Once the ache had settled, she managed to say, ‘Very well then, if your horse is so obliging I will keep my breaths shallow and save myself the pain,’

The humour remained in her eyes even as her voice became firm with command once more, ‘You will breathe deeply and walk from here in a few days.  I am making a tincture that will help with the pain and in return you can save my horse from ferrying your corpse back to the woods,’

Nicole pretended to give serious consideration to her words before she sighed, ‘Very well, agreed,’

  ‘Are you hungry?’

Thoughts of food sent an answer from her stomach rather than her mouth and she flushed red with embarrassment at the sound.  She covered it with words heavy with concern, ‘I have no means with which to pay you,’  She thought of her few possessions left in the woods and grimaced with regret at the potential loss of the bow and quiver loaned to her.

  ‘Had I concerns about how you would pay me, I would not have brought you here in the first place,’ she replied, her tone offended, ‘I know that that is how things work in the village but … you are a long way from there in both location and attitude,’

  ‘I have met some who are generous of spirit, like you,’ Nicole responded softly, ‘The blacksmith …’

The woman’s lips twitched into a near smile, ‘I saw you there, and afterwards as I journeyed home …’

Nicole’s eyes widened at the way the woman’s words hung in the air, ‘I wasn’t following you, I merely found myself on the same path.’

  ‘A path that took you in quite a different direction from your fire in the woods,’ she said, the smile breaking free to release her true beauty and Nicole found herself struck dumb by it.  Not noticing the redhead’s reaction, the smaller woman told her, ‘I gathered what I thought most important …’

Frowning, Nicole craned her neck to see in the direction the woman had motioned.  In the corner of the space – close enough to touch – her pack, the bow and quiver.  Her gaze returned to her host, ‘My gratitude cannot be measured – but you should not have risked entering the woods alone for my sake,’

The laugh was an explosion of sound as she shook her head in dismay borne of humour mixed with offence, ‘I have nothing to fear from the woods that have seen me grow from babe to woman,’

Nicole mumbled an apology, hearing the same attitude that formed the centre of her own being.  It wasn’t arrogance.  There was plenty to fear in the woods but awareness and respect for it was the key to staying safe.  Taking  a breath, she said softly, ‘I should perhaps stop talking, I appear to offend you every time I speak,’

  ‘Perhaps you should,’ came the smiled reply.

  ‘Well … if I am to stay forever silent in your presence, may I ask one thing first?’

A nod, cautious but amused.

  ‘What is your name?’

Nicole was studied for several silent moments before a reply was offered as the smaller woman lifted from her knees once more, ‘What good would it do you if you are to never speak it?’  Giving her no chance to respond, the woman laughed to herself and left.

 

She returned soon after, pausing just inside the small doorway to shake the worst of the rain from the blanket that had covered her head and shoulders.  Her eyes drifted up to the leaking roof but said nothing as she stepped over Nicole to kneel the other side of her, furthest from the doorless opening.  She laid the blanket over Nicole, the extra layer instantly warming her against the wet chill of the air.  Nicole smiled her gratitude, even as she felt guilt at the knowledge that the small woman would soon step back out into the rain with no covering for herself. 

Those thoughts dispersed as a bottle was lifted and soft words drifted the barest distance between them, ‘Can you lift a little?’

Nicole nodded, pressing her elbows into the straw beneath her and levering her upper body upwards.  The pain made her breath catch but she gasped past it and swallowed the nausea as her vision shifted unpleasantly.   Cool water dribbled over her tongue, and she swallowed hungrily, licking her lips when the bottle was pulled back.

  ‘It’s willow tincture,’ the woman said, noticing the flicker of Nicole’s eyes as her initial need to drink gave way to acknowledgement of the taste.

  ‘I have infused willow many times, it’s never tasted like that,’ Nicole admitted, rubbing the strange heat of her tongue against her teeth.

  ‘Then you should add some yellow root the next time you make it,’ came the reply, ‘It aids the willow and calms the stomach,’

Nicole thought of the times she had made and drunk willow-bark infused water, and how her stomach had always cramped for at least a day afterwards.  The cramps had certainly been preferable to whatever hurt the willow helped to relive but the opportunity to avoid them too would not be missed.

  ‘More?’

  ‘Please …’ Nicole breathed and took several gulps, feeling the heat at her tongue flowing through her.  ‘That is … rather pleasant,’

  ‘Here …’

Moaning with delight, Nicole took the offered chunk of bread and devoured it within several large bites.  Once she had, she watched as the woman took a small knife to an apple and cut wedges that she handed over on the edge of the blade.   After she had eaten a few, Nicole stopped and stared sullenly at the offered slice.

  ‘You cannot tell me that you have had your fill,’

  ‘I haven’t,’ she admitted, eyes lifted to the blue grey before her, ‘but I cannot take anymore from you without the one thing that I must have …’

  ‘And what is that?’

  ‘Your name,’

The young woman seemed to consider her options before sighing softly and held out the knife once more, ‘Waverly,’

Nicole let the name fly around her mind for a moment before she nodded and took the slice of apple.

  ‘You approve then?’

  ‘It is a beautiful name – it suits you,’

The barest of flushes coloured Waverly’s sun kissed cheeks as she sliced the last of the apple before asking, ‘And you are?’

The redhead chewed the last piece and lay back on the straw, ‘Nicole,’ she told her.

  ‘Well then, Nicole, rest and let that tincture do its work,’

  ‘Thank you …’ she said as she watched the woman stand and leave, ‘… Waverly,’

Chapter 3

Over the days that followed, Nicole would find out barely anything about the woman who had chosen to help her – not that she didn’t try.  She asked direct and less direct questions whenever she could, but Waverly would offer nothing but silence by return.  Eventually, rather than offend her with continued queries, Nicole stopped asking. 

Nicole didn’t count the days since she had woken in the small shack with its bed of straw, open doorway and leaking roof.  But it was long enough for her to find the strength to stand – if only for long enough to watch Waverly hastily construct a slightly comfier bed from blankets and straw that she had tied into several rolls.  Time passed, much like the rain that had been shifted by the wind and seen Waverly nail a blanket to the open doorway to try and cut down its encroachment. 

With food and regular offerings of the well-made willow mixture, Nicole felt herself healing more rapidly than she could have imagined.  And even quicker than she could have had she been left to the mercy of the woods.  So, although she might have learned very little about her rescuer, she would be forever grateful for her kindness and skill.

 

*

 

Nicole awoke to the soft flapping of the makeshift door.  She turned to peer out, judging the time of day by how the light had moved from one side to the other.  Realising that it was not far from the end of the day, Nicole lifted herself into a sitting position and swung her legs round.  She sat for a moment, testing the limits of the movement that usually sent nausea sweeping through her.  Finding her stomach at peace, she lifted her hand to the dressing tied around her head and slipped it off.  Searching fingers stroked through her hair to find dried blood at the back of her head but little more than a tender reminder of the blow.  She tossed the strip of material into the corner of the shack and pressed her feet firmly to the floor.  The bed was so low that it was impossible to lift herself in increments and she had no choice but to stand straight up – a mistake that was instantly recognised.  Legs, which had not borne her weight for more than a few moments in days, refused the instruction of her less than commanding mind and she stumbled for the doorway.  Flailing hands snagged the blanket and finding nothing for needed support, she stumbled out of the shack and instantly dropped to her knees.  She stayed where she landed, breathing heavily and staring at grass before her.  Made lush and green by recent weather, the bright, plump grass was so full of life that it seemed to mock her and she sneered at it as if it were the cause of all that had come before.

A shadow fell over her and she groaned as she lifted her head, closing one eye in an embarrassed acceptance of her own foolishness.  Waverly was standing with her arms crossed over her chest, her expression one of angered humour that Nicole had gotten quite used to.

  ‘I can’t stay in there forever,’ Nicole told her – mustering all the confidence of someone who could stand on their own two feet and not the person who was considering crawling back into the small shack.

Waverly didn’t answer – as was her somewhat infuriating way.

Taking a breath and at least finding the pain at her ribs had faded even further, Nicole asked, ‘Can you help me up, please?’

Sighing, Waverly stepped closer and bent to hook Nicole’s upper arm.  Bracing herself, she waited until Nicole rocked back on her feet and then helped her to stand and lock her weak legs beneath her.  Still unsteady, Nicole was grateful for the arm that Waverly slipped around her waist as well as the hidden strength the smaller woman clearly carried.

  ‘Come on …’ Waverly encouraged.

Nicole lifted her face to the cool evening sun, ‘Can I just take a moment?’

Waverly looked up, eyes flickering as she read the position of the sun.  ‘A moment – no more,’

  ‘You have somewhere to be tonight?’ Nicole asked with a soft laugh.

Waverly’s features darkened, ‘That is not your concern,’

Nicole bowed her head slightly, ‘I meant no offence,’

  ‘None taken – I had merely hoped that your constant questions had come to an end,’ came the growled reply as Waverly shifted her weight, giving Nicole no choice but to turn with her.

  ‘You can’t expect me to not know anything about the woman who saved my life,’ Nicole countered as they shuffled back to the shack.

  ‘You know that I did,’ she replied, although she sounded uncomfortable and followed it quickly with, ‘and that’s enough,’

It was impossible for Waverly to help her through the doorway and so Nicole felt herself released and she stumbled the short distance to the makeshift bed.  Once she had lowered herself, Waverly motioned for her to turn her head so she could study the area now revealed.

  ‘It doesn’t hurt,’ Nicole told her, ‘But I would relish the chance to wash the dried blood from my hair,’

  ‘There is a bucket outside that has been collecting rainwater,’ Waverly told her as she lifted the blanket, ‘but leave it until the day has properly warmed tomorrow – you do not want to spend the night with wet hair,’ 

She returned a few moments later with a small basket and Nicole realised that she must have set it down when she saw Nicole drop to her knees.  She handed it over and then left without saying anything further.  The basket had more of the willow drink as well as bread, cheese and fruit.  Nicole ate slowly as she considered the mystery of the beautiful woman who had provided it.

 

*

 

The following morning, Nicole awoke and stretched carefully, smiling at the way her body argued less with her movements, calling her to test the limits further.  She moved to set her feet to the floor and reached for her boots stationed in the corner of the shack.  There was something fundamental about pulling her boots on – a sign that she was ready to start getting back to the life she lived and loved.  That gave her pause.  In the days that Waverly had looked after her, despite her somewhat taciturn nature, Nicole had come to appreciate the company.  She told herself that it was the need to be looked after that had caused such enjoyment and that, once her strength fully returned and she no longer needed the attentions of the short, pretty woman, the isolation found beneath the trees would call to her once more. 

Taking a breath, she lifted to her feet and braced herself against the weakness she expected.  It was there but not as bad as the day before and she found that she could stand on semi-steady legs.  Gaining confidence in her physical recovery, she took a step towards the hanging blanket at the opening.  A slight unsteadiness but nothing more saw her take growing confident steps out into the early dawn.

She stood for a moment, face lifted to the cool morning air.  The sun had yet to rise but the lightening sky proclaimed its imminent arrival.  The smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she breathed easily, letting the air fill her lungs and expand her chest in way that would have been impossible a few days before.  There was still a slight ache and stiffness but nothing that couldn’t be ignored, especially if she started to move around and loosened everything up.

With that in mind, she took a few slow paces, deciding to circle the hut that had been her temporary home.  She paused at the sight of the bucket Waverly had mentioned and was almost instantly on her knees in front of it.  She didn’t need the warmth of day – being wet and cold was a fact of life for her and she would welcome it over the harsh feel of dried blood in her hair.  She released her hair from the twist of leather that had barely been holding it anyway and submerged her head completely.  The water was freezing and wonderful – awakening her senses to life and all that had been put on hold for a time.  She sat back, soaking hair sending a spiral of water behind her as she rubbed at the area of matted hair before dunking her head a few more times. 

Shivering and gasping with delight, she returned briefly to the hut and grabbed the blanket, slipping it round her shoulders and lifting her wet hair over it.  She eyed the basket that Waverly had brought her the day before and her mind settled quickly to a decision – one that had been niggling in the back of her mind since she had regained her senses.  Waverly hadn’t just saved her life, she had looked after her and shared food.  Nicole was in her debt and that left an uneasy feeling in her gut.  As a traveller, Nicole never left things undone or out of balance.  When she left an area it was always with a sense of purity – she never left anywhere with the need to look back or to worry that someone would follow.  If she needed something, it was always paid for – either by successful trapping or the sweat off her back.  She owed no one and was all the freer for it.

Taking the basket, she travelled further out to explore the field that was bordered by woods on all but one side.  As she walked, she paused to look at the small house just a little further down the slope.  It was in poor condition, weatherbeaten and a little ramshackle.  But there was something about it that made Nicole’s heart warm.  It was a home.  Waverly’s home. 

She shook herself and continued her search, eyes on the ground now as her boots were quickly moistened by dew.  Eyes accustomed to poor light quickly found her prize and several broad, flat mushrooms were lifted into the basket.  She carried on towards the edge of the field and smiled when she saw the distinctive leaf and stem of a plant she was particularly fond of.  She pulled up several strong, triangular stems, taking the flowers as well.  The flowers, still closed in the early light, would have distinctive green lines on them once opened.  After taking a moment to inhale the pungent smell that became a garlic taste on her tongue, she added a few more stems and then straightened to continue her search.

The sun had half risen by the time she approached the small house with a basket now laden with more mushrooms as well as berries found at the furthest corner of the field.  She approached the house from the other side, pausing to study the large open window that dominated much of the side wall.  Certainly, that side of the house was more sheltered but even so, the large window seemed unnecessary.  Then again, Nicole hadn’t exactly spent much time living in buildings so what did she really know anyway?

She circled the building and approached the door, tapping on the faded wood with her knuckles.  The wood, worn with age did not sit well within the frame and when Nicole knocked again, it swung inwards to reveal a shadowed interior.  A flurry of movement filled her view as Waverly hastily grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around herself.

Nicole half spun and dropped her gaze, mumbling a hurried apology.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Waverly demanded.

Nicole looked up carefully and, noticing that Waverly was covered but for the rather lovely glide of smooth shoulders and neck, she lifted the basket, ‘I’m making breakfast,’

Waverly inhaled a tired breath and Nicole noticed how dishevelled she looked.

  ‘Are you okay?  Did you not sleep?’

A flash of defensive anger crossed her features, but she seemed too tired to maintain it.  As if defeated, a small hand lifted from within the blanket to wave towards the corner, ‘I prepare food over there,’

Nicole’s gaze should have been drawn in that direction, but she was momentarily captivated by the sight of smooth thigh exposed by the opening of the blanket. 

Sighing, Waverly turned and headed towards the opposite corner saying, ‘Can I trust you to keep your back turned while I dress?’

Nicole wanted to be offended by the question but perhaps the smaller woman had cause to ask it.  Deciding that she didn’t really expect an answer, Nicole made a point of turning towards the area she had been directed to.  She found the small stove cool to the touch and that made it her first job.  After clearing the ashes from the previous day, she set a new fire going in the iron belly and quickly felt a change in the air around them.  The growing warmth made her wonder how Waverly could sleep, apparently naked, when she had allowed the fire in the stove to go out.  Surely it could be stacked and allowed to smoulder through the night, keeping the inside of the house warm.  Nicole wanted to look around, to see if there was another source of heat, but she kept herself facing forward.  That was until the sound of soft breathing called her attention. 

Now dressed, Waverly was sitting in a rickety but comfortable looking chair and, judging by the boots that rested on her lap, she had been about to pull them on.  Smiling softly, Nicole crossed the short distance and carefully took the boots from beneath her limp fingers.  The blanket that she had used to cover herself was on the end of a narrow bed and Nicole lifted it carefully to drape it over the sleeping woman.

 

Later, Nicole left a pan to keep warm on the stove and quietly stepped out into the full light of day, taking a cracked wooden bowl with her.  She squatted against the side of the building and ate slowly, savouring the warm food while she watched a hawk swoop from the trees and across the field.  She had almost finished when she sensed movement and then Waverly settled on the ground beside her and began to eat her portion. 

  ‘Here …’

Nicole looked over and smiled gratefully as she took the chunk of bread, using it to mop up the juices in the bowl. 

  ‘This is good,’ Waverly told her, ‘Thank you,’

Nicole cleared her throat, ‘I … um … I owe you so much more,’

A shake of the head that sent smooth hair spilling pleasantly across her slim shoulders, ‘I didn’t help you out so you would be in my debt,’

  ‘I know,’ Nicole replied, ‘but, still I am,’

Waverly sighed and climbed to her feet, ‘Then I relieve you of your burden,’

Nicole stared up at her as she went back into the shadows of her small home.  Moments later and she followed, saying, ‘It’s not as simple as that for me,’

Waverly was folding the blanket that Nicole had covered her with and as she went to set it on the end of the bed, a ray of light shone down on her through a hole in the roof.  It was one of several to send beams of light into the area and Nicole couldn’t help but think of the steady dripping she had heard within her own shelter. 

She glanced upwards, ‘I will work off my debt,’

Waverly folded her arms, her expression stern, ‘That isn’t necessary,’

  ‘I believe it is,’

  ‘I do not,’

Nicole folded her arms, mirroring the smaller woman, although her expression was amused, ‘Do you plan to climb up and fix the roof yourself?’

  ‘That is none of your concern,’

  ‘I believe it is,’ she responded, ‘I would likely be dead in those woods – thanks to Hardy and his friends – if you hadn’t …’ her words dried as the expression on Waverly’s face changed dramatically.  Gone was the firm annoyance, replaced with pale anxiety and flickering eyes shadowed by fear.  Nicole realised that she hadn’t told the other woman how she had been injured but now, seeing her reaction at hearing Hardy’s name, she wondered if she was not the only one here to be aggrieved by the bastard.

  ‘Very well,’ Waverly said, cutting off the questions that burned along Nicole’s lips, ‘If you must then feel free to fix my roof as best you can.  You will find a ladder and tools in the stable,’  Her tone had a dismissive edge and, given the way her body had become tense, Nicole nodded and said nothing more.  Setting her bowl and spoon on the table, she turned and left.

 

The stable was an optimistic description for the lean-to at the side of the house where the horse was bedded down.  She approached the fine beast who huffed and tossed her neck in apparent greeting.  Suddenly feeling just as grateful to the animal for saving her, Nicole patted her neck and looked around the drafty area.  She found the ladder and tools Waverly had mentioned, smiling to herself when she saw an axe and saw.  ‘Reckon I could make you both a little cosier,’ she told the horse with a smile, ‘If your mistress can stand to have me around for just a few more days,’  The sound of hopefulness in her voice came as a surprise and she quickly grabbed the ladder and headed out to inspect the roof.

 

*

 

Nicole had meant to start working on fixing the roof immediately – she really had.  But just after she finished her inspection, taking note of the major holes requiring the most work, she had paused to admire a view she was rarely afforded.  A clear day that showed the barest outline of mountains to the North.  She had never ventured too close to them, favouring the familiarity of woodland, but now she wondered at that.  She had heard that the woodland stretched to the very base of the mountains, so maybe it was the perfect time to expand her understanding with an adventure into new terrain.  After what had happened with Hardy, Nicole certainly had little desire to stay in the area.  A brief flash of Waverly’s features crossed her mind but was quickly dismissed.  Perhaps to distract herself, she surveyed the area of woodland below the house, pausing and shielding her eyes when she saw something of interest that she hadn’t noticed before.  Smiling, she climbed down the ladder and headed towards the trees.

The coppice of hazel trees was even better than it first appeared, and she found herself smiling with unexpected delight.  Taking her knife, she cut one of the thinnest growths and tested it between her hands, nodding at the way it flexed.  The coppice was one of the largest growths she had ever seen.  The stems were straight and would be resilient to the manipulation she was considering requiring of them.  As she explored, she saw further signs that this was a cultivated area – although one that had not been tended in sometime.  Setting her hands to her hips, she nodded to herself and set to work.

 

*

 

Nicole only stopped on a few occasions to approach a nearby stream to gulp water, meaning that by midafternoon she had created several impressive stacks of hazel beside the lean-to.  The horse had watched her, perhaps wondering if she would be called upon at some point to help carry the piles.  But, in truth, Nicole had been happy to work alone after discovering that, if she was careful, the activity was doing much to loosen the tightness in her chest and back.  So well, in fact, that she could feel none of the residual ache that had been there that morning.  Happy and content, she paused to study the piles of hazel, glancing from them to the area she was to improve.  Judging that she would have enough to get her started at least, it was time to collect the older, thicker and less pliable growth.  These she would sharpen into points to hammer into the ground.  Once firmly seated, they would be ready to take the tight weave of the collected stems.  Knowing that her knife would be useless for cutting down the thicker wood, she went into the lean-to to retrieve the saw.  As she did, she remembered how she had left the ladder and went to retrieve it. 

The moment she lifted the ladder from its slant, she heard a sharp cry and the slide of a body.  Reacting out of instinct, she let go of the ladder and held her arms out as something descended from above.  A slim body landed rather neatly in her outstretched arms, and she pulled her quickly to her chest rather than have her spill to the floor.  They stared at each other – mouths open, eyes wide.  Waverly’s lips slowly closed, her eyes losing some of their surprise as she seemed to instinctively press a little closer, perhaps even enjoying the sensation of strong arms holding her.  Nicole frowned at her reaction but then she felt her lips curl into a smile as her surprise gave way to her own enjoyment of Waverly lying rather pleasantly in her arms. 

Waverly suddenly came back to herself and a small fist bounced off Nicole’s chest as she struggled and demanded to be put down.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Nicole laughed as she set the smaller woman back on her feet, ‘I was just making sure you were okay,’

Waverly swept hair out of her face and spun angrily to face her properly, ‘I was doing just fine until you pulled the damn ladder from under me!’

Nicole glanced sideways up to the roof and grimaced.  She had been so surprised – and then rather joyful – to have caught Waverly so perfectly, that she hadn’t considered her participation in the event.  ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled and then a little louder when guilt turned to defensiveness, ‘What were you doing up there anyway?’

  ‘I thought I’d continue the job that you had abandoned!’ Waverly replied, her own defensiveness mixing with the sudden fear at sliding off the roof.

  ‘If I say I’m going to do a job – I do it,’ Nicole replied firmly, resetting the ladder against the house.

Waverly arched an eyebrow, ‘Yet leave a job half done?’

Nicole turned and set her hands to her hips, ‘Are you asking me to do two things at once?’

  ‘As I recall,’ came the terse reply, ‘I didn’t ask you to do anything,’

  ‘Woman,’ Nicole sighed, ‘You are impossible!’

For some reason Nicole was unable to fathom, that statement made Waverly shake her head and laugh, eyes suddenly shining with humour.  ‘Yes,’ she admitted with a chuckle, ‘I suppose I am,’  Still laughing to herself, Waverly walked towards the doorway calling back, ‘Please continue to make my horse more comfortable, I will start something for our evening meal,’

Nicole stared after her, mouth hanging open – possibly more surprised and confused then when Waverly had fallen into her arms.  Recovering, she felt the need to shout in reply, ‘It’s not evening meal if we eat while the sun still lights up the sky!’  She wasn’t expecting an answer, and one wasn’t offered.  Although, of all the questions that Nicole wanted to voice, understanding why Waverly ate so early and never left her home after the sun had set was not as important as some others.

 

Frustration and confusion saw Nicole set to her task with fervour.  And by the time Waverly brought her a steaming bowl of soup, she had an almost complete wall of interwoven hazel stems assembled at the front of the lean-to.  She took the soup with a smile and words of gratitude, sitting herself at the base of the panel she had constructed and dipping the chunk of offered bread deep into the hearty mix.  She was surprised when Waverly sat beside her and started to eat, although less surprised that the small woman didn’t share any words between her mouthfuls.

  ‘I should have this first panel finished by dark,’ Nicole told her as she used the last of her bread to clean the bowl.

  ‘My horse is used to being bedded down before dusk, I’d rather you not disturb her,’

Nicole turned her head, chewing the last mouthful of bread thoughtfully but swallowed her questions along with the bread and nodded, ‘Fine – I will do what I can before dusk and then finish this section in the morning,’ she set her bowl down, ‘If I get up early, I should have the whole thing finished by the end of tomorrow,’

Waverly was about to argue but seemed to change her mind and said instead, ‘I will prepare breakfast when I rise and bring it out to you,’

Her statement was clear – she didn’t want Nicole wandering into the house again. 

  ‘I shall add repairing your door to my list of jobs.’ Nicole told her by way of further apology for that morning’s incident.

Waverly set her own bowl down and replied softly, ‘I would appreciate that, thank you,’

Sensing a slight relaxation of Waverly’s usual rigid demeanour, Nicole looked over at the remaining stacks of wood, ‘That coppice of hazel was well tended once and the growth is still excellent …’

Waverly turned to study the construction behind her before her eyes, softer than she had ever shown Nicole, dropped to meet the redhead’s gaze, ‘You have used it well and honoured the growth,’

Nicole kept her gaze, ‘The coppice is yours then?’

Waverly turned to stare out over the field, ‘My family tended it once, yes … my sister looked after it and would harvest the growth.  Then we would weave baskets to sell in the village,’

Nicole thought of the basket she had used that morning to forage their breakfast – it had been made by skilled hands.  ‘But not for a while?’

The smaller woman exhaled a breath as a sigh – part sadness and part resignation to answering Nicole’s question, ‘When my sister died there was no one to harvest the hazel,’

Nicole bowed her head.  She had no doubt that Waverly could have easily collected the wood but perhaps she had been unable to bring herself to tread in the footsteps of her lost sister.  ‘And you’ve been alone here ever since?’

Waverly’s only answer was to lean forward and collect their bowls and spoons.  She stood, pausing to say, ‘I do appreciate what you have done and what you still have planned,’

Nicole stood too, a sad smile playing at her lips, ‘But you would prefer my labour more than my pity …’ she bowed her head in apology but then lifted it again to tell her, ‘I did not mean to sound like I pitied you, I’m sorry,’

The smaller woman straightened, ‘I don’t need pity,’

  ‘I know,’ Nicole replied with confidence and turned back to the hazel construction.

 

~*~

 

The next morning, the sun cleared the horizon as Nicole set about finishing the first panel and had just completed when Waverly appeared carrying two bowls of porridge. 

  ‘I’ll continue to build around the lean-to for now,’ Nicole told her by way of greeting, but will need to take it down before I finish the third panel.  Some of the old material will insulate the new walls and the rest can probably go to your roof,’

Waverly nodded her approval, ‘Very resourceful,’

Nicole lifted a shoulder as she swallowed a mouthful, ‘I don’t know any different,’

  ‘Wynonna would be impressed,’

Nicole was slow to respond, almost as if she were approaching a skittish horse, ‘Wynonna – your sister?’

  ‘She was good with her hands like you are but …’ she paused, a smile lit her face along with whatever pleasant memories were playing out in her mind, ‘… she knew how to ferment pretty much anything she thought would taste good … or at least, not poison her,’

Nicole spluttered a laugh and lowered the spoon she had been about to slip in her mouth, ‘Really?’

  ‘She did like a drink,’ Waverly laughed softly but then her eyes shadowed once more, like clouds passing across the sun.  She started to eat, Nicole following suit.  Questions still filled her mind, but she was grateful for the small amount Waverly had shared.

 

Hard, efficient work and few breaks saw the longest wall of hazel completed by mid-afternoon.  Keeping to her plan to remove the lean-to while she had the wide opening at the end, she set about the task with the same joyful intensity with which she had bult the two new sides.  The lean-to, old and poorly secured, proved easy to remove and although she had decided that most of the reclaimed material could be used as insulation for the new shelter, gathering grey clouds made her decide to leave that task for now in favour of using what was needed on the roof.  She set the ladder at the back of the house and climbed up to inspect the roof there.  Finding several areas for repair, she set about the task with the stamina of someone who had already achieved several hours successful work and was eager to carry on.

The sound of a horse approaching drew Nicole’s attention and she slid further up the roof to peer over the top.  Her jaw clenched at the sight of Hardy as he pulled his horse to a stop, remaining in the saddle as he looked down at Waverly who had gone to meet him.  They exchanged words that Nicole couldn’t hear, less than friendly words judging by Waverly’s demeanour.  The small woman turned for the house and Hardy jumped down from the saddle to pace after her, his features set and less then patient.  Nicole slipped silently over the apex of the roof and then, unseen, made her way down the other side just as Hardy grabbed Waverly’s arm and spun her round.

 

  ‘Don’t walk away from me, woman!’ Hardy growled, harsh fingers bruising Waverly’s upper arm as he spun her to face him.

Waverly’s eyes flashed with the anger that would have been clearly heard in her voice had the thump of feet and the appearance of a slim body beside her not cut her words short.

 

  ‘Let her go,’ Nicole’s voice thrummed with threat, her eyes the needle-like focus of a hawk’s as she met his gaze.

Hardy’s mouth flapped open and shut as he stepped back, hand falling quickly from Waverly’s arm.  He eventually managed to emit intelligible sounds, ‘… doing here?’

  ‘Surprised to see me?’ Nicole smiled, dangerous and unpleasant enough to make Hardy take another step back.

  ‘I have made it clear to you,’ Waverly told Hardy as she followed him, ‘We have nothing to discuss and you are not welcome on my land,’

  ‘Your land?’ Hardy laughed harshly, regathering the few wits he had, ‘You only stay here because no one else has taken their claim to it.  This is no more your land than the woods around it!’

  ‘This has been our home for generations,’ Waverly countered.

  ‘This piece of shit land owes more coin than it is worth,’

  ‘A debt that was never mine,’ Waverly replied, her tone suggesting that it wasn’t the first time she had said it, ‘And any who had claim against this land declared such debts nulled when …’ she stopped, perhaps remembering that Nicole was standing just behind her.  Taking a breath, she told him, ‘I owe no one,’

Hardy rolled his neck, ‘On that we disagree,’

There was something in his tone, something predatory that had Nicole stepping forward.

Waverly half turned, eyes flashing in warning before she turned back to Hardy, ‘Disagree all you want – it is all you will ever have with me,’

Curling his lip, Hardy returned to his horse and climbed into the saddle, glaring down at them he sneered, ‘We’ll see,’ 

 

Hardy was almost out of sight before Waverly turned to say, ‘I think he was somewhat surprised to see you,’

Nicole had expected curt words about her defence of Waverly and was caught out by the question.  ‘Sorry?’

Waverly nodded in the direction Hardy had ridden, ‘He left you for dead, didn’t he?’

Nicole took a breath to answer but Waverly spoke before she could.

  ‘Well – not just him,’ there was a hint of humour in her voice, but it quickly became overshadowed by anger, ‘his friends were a help, no doubt?’

Nicole nodded carefully, feeling unsure and a little uncomfortable with the conversation, although she didn’t know why.  Waverly had seen her at her worst – beaten and bloodied – why be embarrassed by the fact she had been unable to defend herself against five men.  And why did Waverly’s opinion of her matter anyway?

  ‘Looks like you got a couple of good shots in,’ Waverly observed lightly.

Nicole frowned as she recaptured what she had seen of Hardy’s features.  She had been so caught up with the situation that she hadn’t paid him any real attention but now she realised that he had been wearing the fading evidence of their fracas.

  ‘Come and sit inside while I prepare evening meal,’ Waverly announced and when Nicole went to argue she responded with, ‘You’ve done enough for one day.  Tidy your tools, wash up in the water trough and come inside,’

  ‘Yes, m’lady,’ Nicole responded, dipping her head.

Waverly chuckled and turned, pausing briefly to glance over her shoulder and declare, ‘I rather enjoyed the way you dropped down from the roof,’

Nicole flushed slightly, ‘It wasn’t a planned appearance … but still worth it to see the look on his face,’

  ‘Yes,’ Waverly smiled, ‘it was,’

 

Tools tidied, hands and face glistening and pink from their wash in the cool water of the trough, Nicole knocked on the door.  Her knock hadn’t been hard, but the door still swung inwards.  She stayed on the threshold though, waiting for a response to her arrival.

  ‘It’s a little late to be standing on propriety, isn’t it?’ Waverly called lightly.

Nicole was pretty sure that other than the expected knock and wait, she had no idea what other social niceties she would be expected to follow in any village or town.  The only proprieties she followed came from the deep respect she held for her surroundings and its support of her way of life.

Waverly appeared from the shadows at the back of the house and waved Nicole in.

The redhead nodded to the shadowed area where the smaller woman had just finished tacking down a worn blanket over the large opening.  ‘I shall add fixing that window to my list,’

Waverly laughed softly but her words were a clear change of focus, ‘Your search for chores makes me wonder if you are intending to set down roots here,’

Nicole felt a strange flutter in her stomach at the suggestion but was quick to respond, ‘I don’t think my people have grown roots for a long time,’

Waverly paused in her passing to look up at Nicole, ‘Are you sure you do not come from gypsies?’

  ‘Not to my knowledge – we just moved around, that was all.  Just a group of travellers who picked up strays.  When I was much younger there were more of us but …’ she lifted a shoulder, ‘… time and the life we lead thinned us out,’

  ‘Until only you remained?’

Nicole shook her head slightly, ‘There were others my age but … I didn’t care for them,’

  ‘Oh?’

Waverly’s interest had Nicole suddenly humbled by the reminder of all the questions she had cast into the air between them over the past days.  ‘It doesn’t matter,’

Waverly’s lips curled into a devilish smile, ‘You want evening meal?’

Nicole huffed a laugh, eyes shining with humour, ‘I could go hunt,’

  ‘Hunt … set a fire … prepare the meat?  All before nightfall?’

Nicole could easily do all that without difficulty, but she still bit her lip as if unsure.  ‘What price then – to save me from a hungry night beneath the stars?’

  ‘Completion of your words,’ Waverly replied simply, ‘Why did you care so little for the others that you would rather be alone?’

Nicole took a breath.  The answer was simple while it remained in her head but hard to let free having never been spoken aloud.  ‘I …’ another breath and then a strange expectation that Waverly would not judge her for her truth, ‘… I prefer my own company to the company of men,’

Waverly’s heart was warmed by the tremble of anxiety she heard in Nicole’s voice.  A tremble that begged simply to be understood.  She took a few moments of consideration before asking, ‘And had there been women amongst them?  Women of your own age?’

Nicole bowed her head, unable to keep Waverly’s gaze, ‘I might have had cause to stay,’

Silence stretched for several moments before Nicole’s head was lifted by a soft fingertip beneath her chin and softer words on her ears, ‘I know what it is to be judged – I favour no one with a disparaging eye,’

  ‘Except Hardy?’ Nicole asked, once again trying for humour but falling far short of the mark – or perhaps, given Waverly’s change in expression, hitting the target full centre.  Words were too quick to her lips, ‘He’s the reason the town shuns you?’

Waverly’s features became like stone, and she moved past, heading to the table where she started to prepare their meal.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Nicole said softly, moving to stand a little closer but her words clearly had little effect.

  ‘You should complete the tasks you have set yourself and not stay for longer than needed.  Hardy is a mean little boy and does not let things go,’

  ‘I can look after myself,’ Nicole replied, far firmer than she intended.

Waverly set her knife down and turned to face Nicole, ‘The cloud of Hardy’s displeasure can spread shadow over more than just those who have angered him,’

  ‘I would protect you from that shadow,’

  ‘If you were to leave, the shadow would go with you,’ Waverly replied simply and returned to cutting the vegetables.

  ‘If?’ Nicole asked softly.

Waverly paused and stared straight ahead.  Eventually she turned her attention back to her task, ‘When you leave …’

 

*

 

They had taken their meal in near silence, continuing in the way their interaction had fallen.  Nicole had returned to the small shack soon after, hopes of spending more time in Waverly’s company dashed by the few words they had shared.  She returned to the bed of rolled straw with emotions coursing through her body that made her chest feel empty and hollow.  An unusual feeling that she was not enjoying and cared not to investigate further.  After all, Waverly was right.  She would finish the tasks in repayment of the care and attention the smaller woman had given her and then be on her way.  She had no doubt that, should she stay, she could easily dissuade Hardy of allowing his dislike of her to fall on Waverly but, as she had learned more than once, the trick to survival was avoiding situations that required it.  Although truly, her desire was to not make the other woman’s situation any worse – especially since there was clearly nothing Nicole could do to improve it for her.  Not that the desire to do that was as strong as anything else she was feeling.  The twisting, turmoil of emotions was as unpleasant as it was unusual, and Nicole settled onto her bed and forced an equal settling of thoughts and intent.  She would finish her tasks and be gone from this place within two more sunsets.

 

*

 

It was either her unsettled mind or the knowledge that she would be returning to the woods soon that made her sleep fitful and increasingly frustrating as any meaningful rest alluded her.  Grunting in annoyance, she spun her legs round and sat for a moment.  Finally giving in to the call of the trees, she pulled her boots on and grabbed her belt and sheathed knife.  Shoving the blanket aside, she stepped out into a clear night.  The moon was large in the sky and surrounded by more stars than the eye could embrace.  She inhaled through her nose, picking up the scent of night-flowering fauna and the change that had long since seen day pass into night.  She approached the trees to the upper edge of the field, having a sense that this was the direction that Waverly had brought her.  She had no intention of trying to find her camp – if there was anything left there worth keeping, she would be better finding it in daylight.  No, right now, she merely wished to feel the trees above her and the welcomed, familiar ground beneath her feet – perhaps hoping to find her equilibrium once more when reminded of her home. 

And she did feel a sense of that as she stepped beneath the foliage and into the warmer air beneath that appeared to welcome her as if in embrace.  No matter where she travelled or how different the woodlands in which she found herself, her heart felt at home beneath the trees, and she exhaled a breath she had imagined she had been holding for days.  She turned to look out over the silvery field and all that her eyes had lain upon for the same amount of time, finding herself surprised to not feel as disconnected as she had expected.  She had imagined that stepping beneath the trees would remind her of the freedom felt when there were no walls or structures to confine her.  Yet as she looked back, eyes resting on the ramshackle shelter that Waverly called home, Nicole felt her heart swell at the welcome sight.  She shook her head at her own foolishness – such reactions would fade once she was far enough away to see it only in her mind’s eye.  Such images, too, would surely fade as seasons passed.  Yet Nicole had a sense that a hundred seasons could pass from one to the next and she would still remember the woman who had saved her.  Would still smell the soft freshness of her.  The softness of her voice.  The beauty of her eyes.  And she smiled at that as she turned to venture further beneath the trees.  She would walk through these woods, perhaps to the mountains but inevitably onto further lands and be happy to leave much of what had happened here behind.  But Waverly would stay in pleasant remembrance.

Nicole strolled somewhat aimlessly, her innate sense of direction giving her the confidence that she would follow a circular route without any conscious thought.  Soon, she came upon the stream that had been the source of water while she had camped beneath the trees.  She followed its higher bank, enjoying the view from this side, since she had always been on the other.  She absorbed her surroundings as she walked, felt the air on her skin and the breath of mixed scents in her nostrils.  Listened to the scuffle and scurry of nighttime creatures as they ran from her sound and scent.  It was a pleasant walk beneath filtered moonlight, unhurried and therefore undisturbed by jutting roots or tripping bramble.  And she did, as she had hoped, find her equilibrium once more.  The woods were her home, and it really did welcome her with its vast embrace.

As expected, she sensed the circular turn of her stroll but, unwilling to return just yet, she sought out a large oak and climbed easily into its branches.  Fairly close to the edge of the wood, she climbed high enough to see out over the lower trees to where the field sloped down.  A subtle change of shadow outlined the small shed and then Waverly’s home.  In the distance, too dark to be seen, she knew was the edge of wood where the tended hazel coppice grew.  It felt so strange for Nicole to feel familiarity for human structures that she found herself turning from them and staring back into the shadows and moonbeams of the woods.

Settled, silent amongst the branches and her scent lifted from the woodland floor, the nighttime creatures resumed their activities.  A badger, rotund, grey body shining in the moonlight, shuffled heavily past and she smiled as she watched it move with near arrogant intent – caring nothing for anything in its path.  A path it had probably trodden nightly for its entire adult life.  Smaller creatures too darted in and out of the undergrowth, the dance of chasing food while avoiding being hunted themselves.  Nicole settled to the show, a relaxed smile pulling at her lips.  The passage of time not counted, she just watched and breathed easy.

At some point, a subtle shift in the wind roused her from a half-doze and she glanced towards the unseen West, reminded that this land was closer to the sea than it was inland.  The change in the breeze coming from the shift in tides which, although many miles away, was still felt by those who knew to sense it.  Dawn would be soon on its heels.  In response to the shifting tide of a sea that they had no knowledge of, the nighttime creatures’ foraging brought them circling back to their dens and sets.  Eyes and ears designed for life in near darkness were poor assistants come the light of day.  Nicole stayed where she was, her eyes feeling heavy once more as she relaxed and let herself rest for a little longer.

The sound of a heavier creature approaching made her eyes snap open, body tensing but more from instinct than concern.  The light had changed slightly, moonlight giving way to the first hint of dawn.  She looked down to see the twelve-point stag emerge from behind thick growth and walk cautiously forward.  She studied its gait, exploratory rather than confident.  He was new to the area, no doubt a buck without a herd.  Although the fading marks of a past challenge across its snout and head spoke of attempts to secure a place amongst one.  She stayed still and let the buck pass.  If she spooked it, it would run and since they were both unfamiliar with the area, who knew where it would end up?  But if she let it explore at its own pace, then tracking it come the light of proper dawn would be much easier.

Waiting until she was sure the buck had moved far enough away, she climbed down from the tree and headed back towards the field and the small shack where Waverly had set the borrowed bow and quiver.  Nicole had not forgotten her agreement to have her work completed in as timely a manner as possible, but nor had she forgotten her need for a good knife.  If an extra day spent fixing the roof and door was the additional price for the antler, then she would pay it without question.  Better a day delayed than a risky time beneath her beloved trees if she remained unable to protect herself.

Climbing down from the tree, she took some time to study the buck’s tracks and to secure her current location in her memory.  Satisfied that she would be able to return here and track the beast, she continued on the circular path that would lead her back to the field.

Approaching the edge of the treeline, she froze when a movement caught her attention.  A shadow, darker than the growing light of early dawn, emerged from the trees and paced across the open area of field.  Even in the early light, she recognised the creature and felt both a strange joy and instinctual fear at seeing it.  The wolf moved with confidence, sniffing across the grass, tracing trails of creatures that had long passed.  The wolf’s unhurried searching led it on a path that saw it snuffle around the back of the shelter where Nicole had spent the past few nights, and she felt her heart quicken in her chest.  The wolf’s behaviour was of an animal both familiar and confident within its surroundings, making Nicole wonder how many times she had slept as the wolf had searched within a few feet of her.  It made her both excited and fearful, the emotions merging into a simple respectful gratitude that the animal had apparently chosen to ignore her while she had been in her weakened state.  She watched as the wolf continued across the field in an unhurried search for scents of interest.  Her heart, which had returned to a more normal tempo, quickened once more as she watched the shadow circle closer to Waverly’s home and then disappear from sight around the side furthest from the horse.  Nicole waited a few breaths before edging from the treeline, eyes strained on the field below the house, hoping to see that the wolf had continued on its way.  When she saw no sign of it she hurried across the field to retrieve her bow.  Armed with loaded bow and quiver at her back, she carefully approached Waverly’s home.  She moved to the side to afford herself a view of the lower field, praying over and over that she would see the wolf as it strolled into the woods.  When she saw no sign of it and with the barest hint of sun playing along the horizon, she edged slowly closer.

Her quickened heart slammed against her chest as the distinctive shape rounded the back corner of the house.  It paused briefly, snout lifted towards the rising sun, before strong hind legs propelled it easily through the large opening.

Gasping a cry, Nicole sprinted forward.  The house seemed to move away from her as she ran, her anxiety and fear distorting her perception of the time it took to reach the doorway.  She skidded to a halt, checked the slot of the arrow and then kicked the door open.  Rushing inside she spun the bow towards the side wall.  Surprise at the sight that greeted her was almost enough to make her loose the arrow.  Somehow she managed to hold on to it as her eyes searched the gloomy interior.  When her eyes found nothing but the naked woman standing before her, she slowly relaxed the string and lowered the bow.

Waverly inhaled a breath and waved towards the chair next to Nicole, ‘Can you at least pass me that blanket?’

Chapter 4

Waverly did not want to sit on the edge of her bed, naked beneath the blanket that had been given by shaking hand.  But, by same vein, she did not want to expose her nakedness once more in order to dress.  And since she was even more concerned that breaking Nicole’s gaze would lead to the redhead running straight from her home and all the way to the door of the magistrate – she found herself sitting naked beneath a blanket while words formed rocks in her throat. 

Nicole had sat herself on the chair she had taken the blanket from, the bow and quiver resting against her thigh.  Waverly tried to ignore that she had kept it within easy reach – but perhaps couldn’t blame her.

Unable to break the rocks into words, Waverly stared in silence at the redhead, studying the way her eyes flickered as her mind tried to make sense of what she had seen.  Waverly felt a flare of hope – perhaps she could use that.  She could make herself aggrieved by Nicole’s sudden appearance and the way her eyes had seen a great deal.  So wronged by the uninvited gaze, perhaps Waverly could turn fear to guilt and then guilt to misdirection.  What had Nicole truly seen anyway?  A woman standing naked in her own home?  Waverly’s eyes dropped briefly to the bow and quiver and her heart sank.  There was only one reason why Nicole had kicked open her door in such a way – she had seen the wolf.  She had seen her.  And, no matter how Nicole’s eyes flickered in confusion – Waverly would be unable to convince her that she had seen anything else.

Guiltily, Waverly’s mind conjured up an image of Nicole as she had stumbled and fallen at the edge of the field days before.  Such a sight had been with human eyes and she now wondered if she had done the right thing in saving her.  As a wolf – unable to do anything to help – she had left her to her fate, perhaps expecting to revisit the choice after turning human.  A choice that was taken from her by the sight of the redhead who must have stumbled after the wolf.  But had she saved her, nursed her back to health just to seal her own fate at the hands of an angry village and accusation of witchcraft?  No one had been accused of such a thing in Waverly’s lifetime but that didn’t mean that the law was unknown or forgotten.  And Magistrate Hardy was not known for his leniency.  Even if he did suddenly find a heart not previously seen, a scared village would react as it saw fit, whether the magistrate identified a crime or not.  Already shunned by the village people, would it be such a leap for them to surround her home with lanterns, their intent to burn it to the ground with her still inside?  A fire that, she had no doubt, would have been stoked in their hearts by the son of the magistrate himself.  Her heart and mind raced, paling her features and making her tremble.

  ‘I – I won’t tell anyone,’ Nicole said quietly, her voice as tremulous as Waverly’s hands had become, ‘I swear … I won’t,’

Waverly wondered if it was fear that had brought the words forth.  Perhaps Nicole believed that the small woman could turn into the beast at will and, within the blink of an eye, change and rip her throat out.  That thought made Waverly sag beneath the blanket, all at once surrendering to her fate and the weight of the curse that had been laid upon her.  ‘Just go,’ she whispered, tired and lost, defeated, ‘You must do what you think is right,’

Nicole stared back, frowning as she tried to understand the smaller woman’s words.  As they slowly made sense, her eyes widened, ‘I will not reveal you and watch you be hunted – what I saw was a magnificent creature, worthy of life just as much as any other,’

Waverly stared at her, her own frown of confusion creasing her features.

Nicole saw it and nodded but was still hesitant, ‘I’ll admit to being … alarmed … to have seen what I did but …’ she looked down.  Then, as if noticing the bow and quiver for the first time, she picked them up and moved them out of reach, returning to her chair and saying carefully, ‘I mean you no more harm than you do me,’

The silence was heavy for several moments and barely lightened by Waverly’s soft observation, ‘You truly are a strange one in these parts,’

  ‘You took a great risk when you saved me,’ Nicole explained, ‘To have me here at all when you are …’ she paused and asked, ‘You are in hiding out here, aren’t you?’

  ‘This has always been my family home,’ Waverly sighed although she nodded as well, ‘but I have come to welcome its shielding distance from the village,’

  ‘So … they don’t shun you because you can … ummm …’

  ‘No,’ Waverly responded, saving Nicole from trying to find words, ‘they spurn me because of something else,’ she took a breath, ‘And neither that nor … what you have found out … is my doing,’  Waverly watched the way Nicole studied her, eyes searching for the truth in her gaze.  It made her look away, angry for a reason she couldn’t identify, ‘Believe my words or not, it makes none the difference to me,’

Nicole believed that statement less than anything else Waverly had said and that, more than anything, had her climbing to her feet.  ‘I will let you to get dressed,’

There was something in her tone that had Waverly gasping, ‘You’re staying?’

  ‘I have jobs to do to pay my debt and I will stay until they are complete,’ she turned for the door and pulled it open, pausing to look over her shoulder with a half-smile, ‘I mean it,’

 

There was something about the sensation of hard work, of working up a sweat and feeling the sting of well-worked palms as she manipulated the hazel branches into place, that calmed her.  Grounded her.  And once grounded, it allowed her to consider the events of that morning with a calm eye.  Not least of which, the need to consider why she had stayed to finish the horse shelter when she had just discovered that …

She shook her head and forced the wood into place, choosing the reddening of her worn palms over the sights she had yet to actually put word to.  She knew what she had seen.  Had no chance of denying her own sight.  But to actually allow herself to name what had been revealed – that would need a little more grounding it seemed.  Instead, she considered her own reaction, although that seemed even more fraught with confusion – especially since she was finding it hard to shake the image of Waverly – naked and quite glorious – from her mind.  Was it that simple then?  Was it just her guilt at war with her morality that was keeping the more disturbing thoughts at bay?  She had no answer for that.  Just as she had no answer for the way her body heated and her heart sped up whenever a certain image flashed unbidden across her mind.  She had been struck dumb by Waverly’s beauty and only the realisation that the wolf was nowhere to be seen had pulled her from her frozen state.  But what was bothering her more was the awareness of the sensation at seeing her.  Not the glory of her flesh – but the feeling of … admiration.  A feeling that she now realised had been there since the first moment she had laid eyes upon her, seen but unknown at the blacksmith’s forge.  It was impossible of course.  Such things were for the stories she heard spouting lyrically from the mouths of traveling bards.  Stories that she had only half listened to and sneered at when she allowed the words to seep into her awareness.  Let the townspeople with their day-to-day drudgery of village life find entertainment and solace in the stories of love and devotion.  Her life was so much more – real.  She lived and was proud of it. 

And yet …

And yet Waverly had slipped beneath the surface and caressed something far beneath, something Nicole had never sensed before nor imagined she ever would.  It was surely improbable to the point of impossibility.  How could Nicole truly be having feelings for a woman she had just met and barely knew?  Feelings that were strong enough to override the sight she had seen and the knowledge she had gained.  Impossible!  Yes – as impossible as a wolf turning into a woman under the light of dawn.  And yet …

As if conjured by her thoughts, the woman herself appeared.  Nicole stepped back from the final section she was constructing and nodded her thanks as she took the offered cup of water.  After swallowing several gulps, she lowered the cup and ran her finger around the rim as if she would find words to share in that simplest of actions. 

Eventually, it was Waverly who found some, ‘I thought you would have gone hunting that stag – he is new to the woods and would be easy to track because of it,’

Nicole looked up, initially wondering how Waverly had known about it but then blushing slightly in foolishness.  She also remembered that she had mentioned her need for antler at some point in the past few days.  Her sight of the stag and her intent to track it seemed to have happened a lifetime ago and she downed the rest of the water to save herself from answering Waverly’s question.

  ‘My father was not a good man,’ Waverly announced and then sighed against the weight of her past.

Nicole looked up, expression open if a little surprised by Waverly’s sudden words. 

  ‘He was violent and …’ Waverly turned the cup in her hands, ‘… well, he was not a good man,’ 

She stopped talking and moved to the lean-to, setting herself on the floor and waiting for Nicole to sit opposite.  She didn’t know why she had said what she had but the words had come, and she hadn’t held them back.  But spoken aloud, they had brought forth memories that had made her legs feel strangely weak.  She was grateful that Nicole sat with her.  Although she noticed she didn’t sit beside her, not as she would have done before.  Waverly tried not to think too much of that and found relief that at least she was sitting close and seemed happy to listen.  As a result, Waverly found words to fill the silence, ‘He drove our mother to an early grave and … then my sister …’

Nicole felt her jaw clench as she remembered the way Waverly had commanded her to take deep breaths or risk an unpleasant death from her injuries.  She didn’t ask, favouring silence over knowledge that would bring even more hurt to the shadows in Waverly’s eyes.

  ‘He was a poor trapper and hunter, even worse as a basket maker.  When it became just us two, I did what I could but …  he borrowed money just so we could eat … and then so he could drink.  We fell quickly into ruin,’

Nicole bowed her head, sympathetic to the plight she described with the awareness of how men could behave when they craved mead above all else.

  ‘One morning I awoke to find him gone.  I searched the road to the village and then the woods.  I admit that I hoped to find him dead or injured beyond saving …’ she bit her lip guiltily and dared to lift her lowered gaze.  Seeing no judgement in Nicole’s eyes, she continued, ‘Later that day I went into the village to ask if anyone had seen him,’  She lifted the cup and finished her water, setting the cup on the ground beside her before continuing with a voice made quiet by the strength of her emotion, ‘I asked around the village but no one knew anything … and then Hardy came to me, said that he knew what had happened to my father,’

Nicole felt a cold chill settle in the pit of her stomach, unpleasant enough that she found herself not wanting to hear anymore.  If Hardy was involved – the outcome would not be good.

Waverly hesitated, perhaps noticing Nicole’s reaction and giving her the choice of silence and ignorance over further details.  She wouldn’t have minded and might even have preferred it.  She had only started to talk about her father as a means to avoid the other topic of conversation.  Nicole neither asked her to stop nor to continue and Waverly nervously tucked her hair behind her ear, a habit since childhood.  And as she did, she realised the real truth of it.  She had started to talk about her father because deep down, she knew that it would lead her to this point.  A point of no return.  In her foremind she might have thought she was avoiding it but in truth, her deeper intention had been to open herself completely to the redhead.  The redhead whose numerous questions would inevitably lead to the same answer – which was why she had outright refused to answer.  But that morning, the answer had presented itself in the truth of her nighttime form and Waverly could no longer ignore the feelings that boiled beneath the fear of discovery.  She was relieved that Nicole had seen the truth of her.

Taking a breath, she found the need and strength to continue, to speak words that had never been heard and to take a leap of faith in the woman before her.  Words glazed her view as she watched the conjured images in her mind.

  ‘Hardy said that he would tell me everything … in private,’

Her vision cleared for the barest of moments and she saw Nicole working her jaw, gritting her teeth in angry anticipation of what was to come.  Waverly watched the way Nicole’s eyes flickered as she ran through a dozen potential scenarios, and she almost laughed out loud.  The redhead could not imagine anything close to the truth.  With that thought came the need to make the past, and with it the present, clear.  Her mind’s eye took over as moments in time played out in the air between them and words that trembled in betrayal of her racing heart, described what she saw.

 

  ‘Your father is gone.  His pocket heavy with coin, lessened slightly by the cost of a horse,’

Waverly stared at Hardy, raging emotions filling her and threatening to curl her lips into a smile.  She forced herself calm, forced the hope to stay hidden for fear of it being dashed and torn apart, like her heart had been at the loss of her sister.  ‘Do you speak the truth?  He has gone?’

  ‘Never to return – his debts declared null if his absence is absolute,’

Hardy’s words should have released the joy that hope was igniting through her but there was something in his tone, something that raised her guard and made her wary.  ‘Where did he get such coin?  Why did those he owe offer such generosity?’ the questions sprang to her lips – an obvious ask but one that had been momentarily hidden by the joyous thought of never seeing her father again.

Hardy’s tongue, wet and unpleasant, drew a glistening line across his lips as his eyes roved up and down her body.  Words that made the air as ice pierced the distance between them, ‘I have sway with those he owed … and a bargain was struck,’

Waverly started to tremble, her voice barely a whisper when she asked, ‘My home?’

Hardy’s laugh was answer enough but she still waited to hear the words that would cut deep like an axe and, in such a way, perhaps fell her as if she were one of the mighty oaks within the woods.

  ‘Your home is nothing but damp wood and shit, the land with it incapable of crops.  Such description brought those your father owed to their senses and they no longer care for what was owed,’

  ‘Then how did he gain coin?’

Hardy’s eyes glinted with victory, ‘It is what is within that handsome coin paid for,’

She shook her head, standing fast against the axe blows, even as he stepped closer in response to her show of refusal.

  ‘Bargain was struck.  You have been paid for,’

She stared up at him, eyes cold with hate and soul strengthened by the heart of her sister she suddenly found within her, ‘You’d be better chasing my father and getting your coin from him – because you will get nothing from me!  You loathsome little man!’

Hardy’s surprise didn’t last but Waverly was far too used to the anger of her father to not see the sign.  She rocked back on his heels, his open hand missing her cheek by a fair way.  Unbalanced, he stumbled, and she foolishly thought him done.  She moved to leave and found herself turning into the wild backswing of his flailing arm.  His signet ring – large and garish – sliced near the top of her ear and the heat of blood instantly trickled down her neck.  She hissed at the stinging pain, clamping a hand to the wound as her head thumped painfully. 

Hardy was staring at her, eyes dark like pits as he lifted his hand to study the specks of blood across his fingers.

She let her hand drop and straightened, revealing a strength and resilience so unknown to men like Hardy that he took half a step back, victory turning to confusion in his eyes.  She motioned at the flecks of red on his hand, stating with a strange calm, ‘Guard that well – it is all you will ever have of me,’  Not waiting for a response, she turned for the door.

  ‘You will regret turning me down!’ Champ tried to yell but his fury raised his voice to a near screech, ‘I will ruin you, woman!  One day you will come to my bed on your knees and beg forgiveness!  And on your knees you will stay!’

 

Nicole’s chest was burning and she had to fight past the tightening of muscles to heave a breath into long emptied lungs.  She had barely manged to get air into them when her eyes flicked to the side of Waverly’s head where she had tucked hair behind her ear.  Her breath escaped in a growl of anger as she noticed the pale scar, ‘He did that?’

Waverly knew that the anger wasn’t directed at her, but she still shrunk under Nicole’s stare, only breathing a little easier when she heard the mumbled apology.  As had been the case several times in the past few days, Waverly felt the redhead’s presence as an unexpected but no less pleasant comfort.  She took a breath, felt her heart slow and relaxed into it.

  ‘I know powerful people – you will pay in more than one way …’

Nicole frowned in question.

  ‘He shouted that after me as I left,’

  ‘Did anyone see you leave?  Anyone see what he did to you?’

Waverly shook her head, staring at her hands, ‘And that made it easier for him,’

  ‘Easier?’

She looked up, ‘He told the entire village that my father and I had hatched the plan together to clear our debts.  He said that we tricked him with promise of my hand in his in return for his support and then his coin.  He called us thieves but, with my father gone with the money, there was nothing anyone could do,’

  ‘Except shun you …’ Nicole sighed.

Waverly nodded, ‘I didn’t return to the village for a few days after what happened with Hardy – but by then his words had poisoned them all against me.  I ran home – hurt and scared.  Upset by how easily they turned on me,’

Nicole thought of the kind tavern owner, ‘Surely not all of them?’

Waverly nodded in understanding, ‘I planned to go the next day to talk to Chrissy and her father.  Chrissy and I had been friends since childhood … but …’ she paused, feeling the edge of the precipice she was standing on and preparing to jump from, ‘… that evening … as dusk passed to night …’

Nicole stared in silence, both wanting to hear and strangely anxious of the words that were sure to follow.  She felt as if she were being tested – her reaction the only thing to receive judgement here.

  ‘The instant day gave way to night, I became … a wolf,’

Nicole stared.  Perhaps a part of her had still expected a more logical explanation.  Anything but confirmation of what her eyes had seen, and her mind stitched together.  Although, in truth, having seen the wolf leap through the window and then nothing but a beautiful young woman in its place within, there had only been one path of certainty. 

  ‘And a magnificent beast you are …’  Nicole’s eyes widened in horror as she heard the words slip from her lips and echo around them – she had thought they would only exist within the private solitude of her mind.

Waverly’s laugh was musical in its surprised amusement, the chuckle that followed only deepening the flush of red at Nicole’s cheeks.  Taking pity on her, Waverly bowed her head in acknowledgement of the impulsively spoken compliment, ‘Thank you,’

Nicole’s eyes drifted back to the scar on Waverly’s ear, and she marvelled as a gasp, ‘The white tip …’

It was Waverly’s turn to frown in question.

  ‘The wolf,’ Nicole explained, ‘it … you … have a white tip to your right ear,’

  ‘I do?’ Waverly spluttered and pressed her fingers to her ear a moment before pulling her hair over it once more, ‘So – that bastard marked me in this form and the one he had me cursed into,’

Nicole leant forward, eyes as earnest as Waverly has ever seen, ‘You are magnificent in either form, no one can ever take that from you,’

It was Waverly’s turn to blush, and she did so with a lowering of her head, intended to hide the smile that pulled at her lips as much as the flush at her cheeks and neck.

Nicole cleared her throat, and perhaps her mind, to ask, ‘So – it’s a curse that Hardy put on you?’  Like everyone, Nicole had heard stories of witchcraft and curses and just like everyone, she believed them to be nothing more than that.  Not that she hadn’t seen some extraordinary things in her life – Mother Nature could be as mysteriously magical as she was beautiful.  Her earliest memory was of seeing a will-o'-the-wisp for the first time and the whispered words of one of the elders as they spoke of the children lost to the trees, having followed the strange, dancing lights.  And as she had grown, she had heard the older ones talking about villages that still clung to old laws and would prosecute and punish those accused of acts beyond explanation.  Punishments were far less severe now but avoided none the less.  Although, up until that morning, Nicole had assumed that avoidance of punishment for practising witchcraft was as simple as – witchcraft didn’t exist.  Pulling herself from her thoughts once more, she found herself asking, ‘I’m surprised that a man who can’t even set a decent trap is capable of such things,’

The way Waverly’s expression changed spoke of her misinterpretation of Nicole’s words and her voice took on the distant edge that had been so familiar during their first encounters, ‘You don’t believe me?’ she huffed angrily, climbing to her feet, ‘Well, that’s a good thing,’

Nicole was quick to her feet, shaking her head, ‘Waverly, that’s not what – ’

Waverly moved past her, shoulders set with anger but perhaps more by disappointment, ‘Perhaps you know the truth of it then,’ she sneered without looking back, ‘I am not cursed, and you saw nothing this morning to question otherwise,’

Nicole chased after her, ‘Waverly – Waves – please!’

She paused, surprised by the sound of her shortened name.

  ‘I believe you, I swear I do,’ Nicole told her quickly before the surprise in her eyes gave way to anger once more, ‘I cannot deny what my eyes saw this morning and neither do I want to.  I am grateful and honoured that you have revealed your truth to me …’

  ‘I hardly had a choice,’ Waverly mumbled.

  ‘Perhaps not, and for that I apologise too,’

Waverly lifted her eyes to meet Nicole’s as she sighed, ‘You are a strange one, aren’t you?’

Nicole smiled, dimples appearing in her cheeks, ‘Thank you,’

Waverly hadn’t meant it as a compliment.  It had been an observation, a comparison of how different this attractive redhead was to everyone Waverly had ever met.  But then, given that everyone in the village, people who had known her since she was born, had shunned her so easily – perhaps being strange was a compliment after all.

Taking a breath, Waverly felt her anger and disappointment fade under Nicole’s gentle gaze, ‘I don’t want to talk about this anymore,’

Nicole bowed her head in acknowledgement.

  ‘But tonight …’ anxiousness turned her voice into a whisper, and she didn’t finish the sentence.

Of course, Nicole was quick to understand, ‘I’ll go to my bed at dusk and won’t step out until dawn,’

The simple acceptance of what Waverly was worried about and the solution to it made her heart swell.  So much in fact that she heard herself say, ‘You don’t need to sleep in that old shack anymore – you can use my bed,’

Nicole’s eyes widened, ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes,’ Waverly replied simply, ‘It’s not exactly being used and …’ she looked down, ‘… it will only be for a few nights because you’ll be on your way again soon … won’t you?’

  ‘I guess I will,’

Waverly looked up when her attention was called by the strange tone she heard in Nicole’s voice.  Their eyes met, questioning, searching.  But when no answers were found, they turned away, leaving only unasked, unanswered, silence behind.

 

*

 

Nicole took some time to check the stability of the finished construction and then turned, eyes searching the field.  While she had been working on the improved shelter, the horse had been ambling around the field, searching for dandelions and clover.  Nicole had been concerned to leave her untethered, but Waverly had been confident that she wouldn’t stray, stating, ‘She is my most trusted companion,’  Waverly had been proved right, of course, and Nicole smiled to herself as she approached the horse.  It raised its large head as she drew near, jaw working on whatever it had just plucked from the ground.  Large, soulful eyes looked over Nicole’s shoulder at the house and the new structure beside it.  

  ‘Do you approve?’ she chuckled as she reached up to pat the horse’s neck.  The large head pushed into her shoulder, a hot huff of breath spreading across her chest.  ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ she laughed and rubbed beneath the horse’s chin before turning and waving in invitation, ‘Shall we?’  She was surprised when the horse strolled calmly along next to her but then, given that the horse seemed unconcerned by the scent of a wolf every night, clearly she was more accepting than most horses Nicole had encountered.

Waverly watched them approach, arms crossed over her chest and an amused expression on her features.  ‘I see you have become friends with my horse,’

Nicole smiled and patted the horse’s shoulder before guiding her towards the much-improved shelter.  She watched as the horse walked easily into the larger space and circled the fresh bedding that Waverly had put down for her.  ‘She seems grateful,’ Nicole commented, leaning with confidence against the support post at the wide entrance. 

  ‘We are both grateful,’ Waverly responded, leaning against the other side.

Nicole looked across the gap, ‘If you can suffer my company for a few more days, I could create a swing door to close this gap,’

Waverly arched an eyebrow, ‘Tell me – is there no end to your skills or no end to your desire to stay?’

Nicole flushed red, ‘I have a great debt to pay,’

Waverly closed the gap between them and rested her fingers against Nicole’s upper arm, ‘Please – consider all debts cleared.  I know what it is to feel beholden to someone else,’

Nicole smiled sadly, ‘Is that your way of asking me to leave?’

  ‘No,’ came the honest, soft reply, ‘I merely wish that your hands show their skill out of generosity, not pressure to repay some imagined balance,’

Nicole’s smile sent the dimples deep into her cheeks, ‘It will be so, m’lady,’

Waverly chuckled, ‘Must you call me that?’

An arch of an eyebrow and Nicole responded with, ‘It will be so … Waves,’ 

The breath was suddenly too thin in her chest, and it sent strange butterflies through her stomach, not unlike the sensation of transition at the end of the day when, in the blink of an eye, she became the wolf.  Nicole has spoken so so softly and with such intimacy that it both unnerved and warmed Waverly. 

  ‘No one has ever called you that, have they?’ Nicole asked.

  ‘And I will allow no one else to,’ she smiled shyly as her hand dropped from the taller woman’s arm.

Heaving a shaking breath that acknowledged the genuine gift being offered, Nicole looked towards the horse who was watching them intently.  ‘And what of her – what is her name?’

Waverly looked over, voice relaxed and returning to normal as she replied, ‘She doesn’t have one,’

Nicole turned to her, ‘Truly?’

After sharing so much already, Waverly was less resistant to Nicole’s leading questions,  ‘About a moon after I had turned for the first time, the blacksmith appeared with her.  Mattie was worried, having heard all that Hardy had said and then not seen me in the village,’ she stepped back to lean against the post once more, eyes on the horse, ‘I was surprised to see the blacksmith – we had shared only a few words over the years because my sister and father were the ones to conduct any business in the village,’ she paused and studied Nicole for a moment, ‘She’s a bit of an outsider herself – even though she’s lived in the village since before I was born,’

Nicole was startled by that.  She had sensed the blacksmith’s desire to stay at the edge of the village but to learn that she had been there so long, was a surprise.  Although a skilled blacksmith would be in high-demand and never without work, perhaps that was what kept her in the area.

  ‘She seemed surprised to see me in good health,’ Waverly laughed softly as she continued the story that brought Nicole from her quiet considerations, ‘I think she imagined me to have wasted away with no one to provide for me.  I couldn’t exactly tell her that the woods provided plenty for me … at night …’ she smiled cheekily and continued, ‘… and so I spoke of my foraging skills which, to be fair, would have kept me alive anyway,’

  ‘And she brought you a horse?’ Nicole asked, diverting attention from thoughts of Waverly as the wolf with a white-tipped ear hunting rabbits and other prey at night.

  ‘She did,’ Waverly nodded, sounding as surprised as she must have been back then, ‘She told me that someone passing through had exchanged the horse for her skill at the anvil but that she had nowhere to stable it,’

Nicole frowned – that seemed unlikely.  She had seen many small stables beside homes in the village, surely someone would have appreciated some extra coin to bed and feed the horse.

Waverly nodded at Nicole’s silent response, ‘I didn’t believe her either, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer,’ she looked out in the direction of the village, ‘There were rumours that her family, the Purleys, had a run-in with the Hardy family years before …’

Nicole nodded at the words that made more sense and remembered how the blacksmith had taken no coin in return for the blade broken dismantling one of Champ’s traps.

Waverly turned back, eyes glistening, ‘I often wonder if – without Mattie providing me with the horse to offer some companionship – Champ might have got his wish by now …’

Nicole straightened, features and voice firm, ‘I don’t believe that,’

Waverly turned to get the horse’s blanket from outside the shelter and carried it over.  She was laying it over the horse’s back when she heard Nicole gasp and she turned to see the redhead studying the pile of dismantled wood just outside.

  ‘You constructed the lean-to for the horse … on your own …’

Waverly lifted a shoulder, ‘I am far from as skilled as you,’

Nicole pushed a hand over her hair, ‘Waves, I’m sorry – I didn’t realise,’

  ‘Realise what?’ Waverly laughed, ‘What are you apologising for?’

Nicole spread her hands, ‘I just tore it down – I never thought … I’m sorry … all your hard work, I just …’

Waverly laughed again, ‘I do not allow myself attachment to such things, Nicole, and you have done a wonderful job here … and I would be so very grateful if you could construct a door,’

Appeased but apparently considering something, Nicole ran her hand over the support post, ‘I will – but I will need payment first,’

  ‘What do you require?’ Waverly asked cautiously.

  ‘I wish you to name your horse,’

Her request was not what Waverly had been expecting and she just stared at Nicole.

Hearing only silence in response, Nicole explained, ‘You do not attach yourself to anything, do you?’

Waverly moved to leave but Nicole blocked her path.

  ‘I meant no offence – I just think that your best and most trusted friend deserves to be addressed by name,’

Waverly looked up at her and then over her shoulder, ‘It’s nearly dusk,’

Bowing her head in acknowledgement of what Waverly was saying, Nicole moved to the side.  ‘Please, Waves,’ she said as the smaller woman passed.

Waverly paused momentarily, ‘I’ll think about it,’

 

Although dusk was approaching, Waverly had allowed enough time for them to eat the simple meal she had prepared.  Even so, perhaps both aware of the encroaching end of the day, they ate in silence rather than delay the meal with words.

  ‘Perhaps we could eat a little earlier tomorrow?’ Nicole suggested as she stacked the plates on the table.  She would wash them after Waverly … well, she would wash them later.

Waverly smiled in amusement, ‘And what shall we call our meal if we eat earlier?  Hmmm?  I thought we could barely call it evening meal if we eat while the sun still lights up the sky,’

Hearing the words she had spoken – had it only been the previous day? – but with the knowledge she now had, made her feel like she had spoken as a naive child.  She countered her irrational flush of embarrassment with honesty, ‘It matters not what we call it, I merely wish us to have time to talk while we eat,’

Waverly smiled in acceptance of Nicole’s wish and in admittance that she had known what she meant all along.  A dip of her head in agreement and then her eyes flicked towards the open door and the dimming sky beyond.

Nicole moved for the doorway, saying softly, ‘Have a good night,’

  ‘I meant what I said, the bed is yours while the sun rests,’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said with such warmth that it made them both pause.

  ‘It’s just a bed,’ Waverly said eventually, trying to laugh lightly but failing.

But they both knew it was more.  It was a show of trust – offered and accepted equally by both.

  ‘Nicole!’ Waverly called softly after the redhead had stepped out and was about to pull the door closed behind her.

She paused, hand on the worn wood, ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’m going to call her Cara,’

Nicole’s eyes and smile warmed the space between them, ‘I have heard the name spoken by those from far away to the West, they have a way about their words and voice that is unique,’

  ‘Yes – my mother’s people came from there,’ Waverly told her and then added, ‘Will you let her know she has a name now?  It was your idea after all,’

Nicole felt a rush of sudden pride at the request and could only nod when humbled words failed to escape her lips.  With one last look at the beauty before her, she closed the door on the shadows of the room.

She turned and lifted her face to the last light of day, closing her eyes and breathing in the cool air.  She only took a few moments before the task given her took her around the building to the newly constructed shelter. 

She stepped beneath the sturdy construction, pleased to feel that the air within was slightly warmer than the outside.  A door would keep it even warmer and she would ensure that she added further layers to the roof before she left as well.  Thoughts of the jobs she had assigned herself in repayment of Waverly’s kindness and what would happen once they were completed left her with a strange melancholy.  Shaking it off, she stepped further into the shelter and approached the mare.

  ‘You have a name now,’ she said with a smile and laughed as the horse tossed its head as if in sudden impatience to hear it.  A strong hand stroked and patted the horse’s neck as Nicole declared, ‘Cara – that is what you are to be called now, do you like it?’  A soft stomp of forefeet seemed as good an answer as any, ‘It means friend,’ Nicole added and felt foolish for explaining it but smiled, nonetheless.

 

Nicole was standing in the doorway of the shelter, studying the frame she had created and considering the construction and fixings for a door, when the day ended.  She paused, alert to sounds and movement.  The sound of a thump as something heavy hit the ground on the other side of the house made her straighten.  Nicole had no doubt that the wolf, a true predator, could jump and land silently without too much trouble.  The louder landing had been for her benefit.  Movement from the back of the building drew her attention and she felt cold fingers prickle up her spine as she watched the shadow with the tip of white move slowly across her field of vision.  Her reaction was purely instinctual, and she had been expecting it.  The black wolf paused, intelligent eyes studying her, its posture relaxed.  The sense of familiarity was strong enough to make the ice fingers melt and bring a warmth to her chest and a soft smile to her lips.  Slowly she lifted her hand in greeting and the wolf paced a little closer.  Behind her, she heard Cara bend to pull at the hay, munching lazily on the dried grass, unconcerned by the scent of the wolf that drifted to it every night. 

  ‘She likes her name,’ Nicole said, her voice sounding too loud in the quiet, and louder still for knowing there would be no reply.

The wolf shook herself, sending wave like ripples through her thick fur.

  ‘You are magnificent, Waves,’ Nicole whispered and heard the wolf rumble a growl in response before it turned and loped off towards the trees.

Chapter 5

Nicole’s lifelong habit of waking well before dawn had never felt so advantageous as it did during the three nights she spent sleeping in Waverly’s bed.  As she had settled on that first night, smiling to herself at the unfamiliar comfort of a bed – something that was known to her perhaps once every few seasons – she had commanded herself to not sleep so well that she failed to wake before day broke.   It had been important to her that she not be inside the house when Waverly returned.  And so, on the first morning and then again on the second, she had risen well before the sun and went to sit on the stair by the door she had closed behind her, a spare blanket pulled tight around her shoulders.

On the first morning she had watched the wolf emerge from the woods at the top of the field, nose to the ground as she snuffled scents and trails cast by the night-time creatures.  Her wandering brought her halfway down the field before her head rose sharply, keen eyes zeroing in on Nicole as if she had forgotten the redhead would be there.  Their stares met for a few moments, the wolf’s intense, Nicole’s deliberately passive and calm.  Taking a slow  breath, Nicole lifted her hand in a wave and smiled.  The wolf huffed, ruffled her muscular shoulders and then wandered to the side of the field, taking a more circumvent journey to the house and the open window. 

On the second morning, the wolf approached the house, slowing as she neared.  Nicole watched her with a calm appreciation of the subtle show of trust, responding with her own relaxed acceptance of the fact that the young woman she knew was standing before her as a black wolf with a white-tipped ear.  The wolf dropped her head and huffed a soft rumbling growl before wandering off to follow a scent that seemed of interest.

During the two days in between, they hadn’t spoken about any of it – perhaps both fearing that the veil between trust and fear was still too thin.  Nicole carried out the tasks she had assigned herself and Waverly helped when she wasn’t busy with her own.  Somehow, having the extra pair of hands slowed Nicole’s progress as they found questions to ask and answers to give.  Nothing too revealing.  Just general questions about their different upbringings and in fact, Waverly asked more of them, suddenly seeming keen to learn all there was to know about what had made Nicole the woman she was.  Nicole wondered if it was a way for Waverly to redress the balance between them.  She didn’t comment or suggest that though, preferring to save her words for giving her answers to their fullest.  And in that way, perhaps she was attempting to redress the balance too.  After all, she shared things about herself that she had never spoken aloud and some she had never called to thought before.  It was a pleasant, revealing time for both and they were left feeling a gentle closeness that they appreciated with the knowledge it was not to last.

On the third night, Nicole awoke and found herself staring up at the shadows beneath the roof she had mended.  She had expected to start feeling the familiar restlessness that always came when she spent too long in one place but – it seemed – the day was to be yet another with its absence.  Giving it no further thought, she swung her legs from beneath the bed coverings and started to dress.

She was just pulling her boots on when a soft thump made her look over her shoulder.  Surprised to see the black wolf, she stood and made to head for the door, but the wolf simply walked across the room and blocked her path.  Nicole chuckled as she watched the animal’s rump hit the floor and the mouth opened to softly pant.

  ‘You wish to share my company until first light?’ Nicole asked with amusement.  Truthfully, she had no idea if – in her wolf form – Waverly could understand her.  Certainly, she had displayed a familiarity with Nicole but were her wolf ears able to interpret sounds as she did when human?  The answer was quick in coming as the wolf lifted onto large paws and padded across to where Nicole was standing.  She had yet to be this close and now she was, she marvelled at the thick darkness of the wolf’s fur with a sudden longing to run her fingers through the deep coat.  Also, being this close, she was keenly aware of their comparative sizes.  The wolf’s head reached easily to Nicole’s midriff and, should she choose, she would have no problem resting her front paws on the redhead’s shoulders when lifted onto her hind legs.  A cold nose pressed into her palm, lifting her hand and she smiled at the invitation.  Nicole dropped to one knee and watched as her fingers disappeared into the thick fur behind the wolf’s head.  The wolf tensed momentarily but quickly relaxed and huffed as long fingers stroked through the dark fur down to her mid-back where they rested.  Keeping her hand buried in the soft fur, Nicole turned and sat on the floor, resting back against the bed.  Her hand fell to her side as the wolf turned and settled beside her, head resting on Nicole’s thigh.  Smiling, Nicole returned her hand to the wolf and stroked gently at her flank.

All too soon the light started to change, and Nicole sighed reluctantly as she slipped from beneath the sleeping wolf.  Pulling the blanket from the bed, the wolf opened one lazy eye as it was draped over her but then closed it again as a soft rumble of contentment echoed from her throat.

 

Later, with the sun fully risen, Nicole entered the building to the sound of soft breathing.  At some point Waverly had slipped into the bed and Nicole paused to study the naked shoulder and portion of back revealed above the edge of the blanket.  Nicole had stacked a good fire within the stove the night before and it had kept the chill from the room, but still she moved to lift the blanket a little higher.  Waverly didn’t stir but her cheeks creased slightly as she smiled within sleep.  Taking a breath, Nicole felt butterflies take flight at her middle as she stared at the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.  Feeling immense gratitude for all that had come before, she walked silently to the kitchen area and started to prepare breakfast.

 

She had just finished her portion when a voice said softly, ‘We are not to eat together this morning?’

Nicole thought that she heard a slight hint of disappointment, and she forced down the apology as well as her own sense of regret that she hadn’t waited. 

  ‘Have you found more jobs to do?’ Waverly added with a soft laugh, breaking the vague tension between them.

Butterflies took flight in her stomach once more when she looked over to see Waverly dressed in nothing but the blanket and although covered, the promise of delights beneath warmed areas of Nicole that were best left ignored.  She cleared her throat, ‘I intend to track that stag I saw a few days ago.  My blade is all but done for and I must get another before I …’ she stopped, suddenly unable to finish the sentence.

Waverly’s smile dipped slightly before she said, ‘I have caught scent of him, I believe he is in the area still,’

  ‘Thank you,’ Nicole responded and then, having heard Waverly speak of her time as a wolf for the first time, added, ‘and thank you for sitting with me earlier it was … nice,’

Waverly’s smiled returned instantly, ‘I was a little nervous but … I enjoyed it too,’

  ‘Will you return a little earlier tomorrow morning so we may spend longer together?’

  ‘I will,’ the smaller woman nodded, ‘and every night until you depart,’

The butterflies that had circled in her belly at Waverly’s agreement turned into rocks and she had to swallow past a tightening in her throat.  Unsettled by her reaction, she moved for the door mumbling that she would leave Waverly to dress.

 

Waverly stared at the door long after it had closed behind the redhead, a sad smile pulling at the corners of her lips.  She had started to feel a strange tug in the pit of her belly whenever Nicole left and this morning was no different, except that today it was accompanied by a small sense of guilty relief.  She needed some time to herself to consider her actions from early that morning … as well as the way she had delighted in the feel of Nicole’s fingers on her.  It had been over four seasons since the change had first come upon her and – as much as fear of discovery had kept her hidden – she had come to accept the nights for what they were.  Or rather – what she became.  After all, what choice did she have?  Her choices were limited to accepting what happened to her as day gave way to night or crawl to Champ and beg his assistance and forgiveness.  Unconsciously, her fingers lifted to her ear and she straightened, taking a breath and reminding herself that she truly had had no choice but to accept her new nighttime form.  And with that acceptance had come a need to make the most of it.  Yet never had she enjoyed being a wolf.  At least, not until that morning.  Much of her thoughts as a wolf were guided by the instincts of the animal form she was cast into.  The need to explore her territory and yes, to hunt as well.  She might have been conscious of her actions but that didn’t mean she behaved as a woman while in the form of a wolf.  But then, whose instincts had it been that had seen her jump through the opening in the wall, knowing full well that it was early enough for Nicole to still be inside?  And which instinct – the woman or the wolf – that had encouraged her touch before lying beside her, head resting rather nicely on a firm thigh?

Finding no answer to please her tumbling thoughts, she became aware of her nakedness beneath the blanket and turned from the door and the woman beyond it. 

 

She emerged from her home and closed the now well-fitting door behind her.  As she did, she glanced up at the roof and, although she couldn’t see it, the change within was apparent enough for her to appreciate the work that had been done.  A glance to the side brought the new shelter for her horse into view.  Her horse – Cara.  A smile lifted the corners of her mouth.  Yes – her home had been much improved since the sudden arrival of a certain redhead.  A redhead that was now strolling towards her, bow and quiver slung across her back as the early morning sun made her hair glint like copper – an unusual shade of hair in these parts but one familiar to Waverly’s mother, as she had told her once.  Nicole’s expression was set firm as she prepared herself for the hunt.  Waverly had never met anyone who held the world around them in such high regard or treated everything that crossed her path with such respect.  During their conversations over the past two days, Nicole had explained how she had been taught to set traps that would catch only the desired prey while allowing anything larger to easily break free.  The desire to take only what was needed was at the core of her very being.  Even when foraging, she would take just enough to feed herself and whoever was to take a meal with her.  As someone who was never in one place for more than a few days, it made sense to not hunt, or forage more than you needed because that would lead to either waste or the need to carry it as you journeyed onwards.  But Waverly knew that it was so much more than that.  Nicole survived because she didn’t just respect her ever changing home, but because she honoured it with every action she took.  Her attitude had been revealed just as much in the way she had needed to repay some imagined debt to Waverly.  A debt, which the existence of she disagreed, must have been settled at least three times over.  And even if such a debt had been incurred, Nicole’s acceptance of the change that came upon Waverly at night would have been payment enough.

 

  ‘You okay there, Waves?’

Waverly blinked, suddenly realising she had been staring, ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled and then louder, ‘Will you be back before nightfall?’

  ‘Will you come and find me if I don’t make it back before dark?’

  ‘We’ll see,’ Waverly replied with a semi-nonchalant shrug and then with a gentle firmness, ‘You will be careful though, won’t you?’

Nicole dipped her head, a strange expression crossing her features that made Waverly frown.  Nicole noticed and gave a shy smile, ‘It’s been a very long time since anyone cared about me,’ 

There was no sadness in her voice, Nicole chose to live alone and as such Waverly felt no sense of pity at hearing the words.  They had merely reflected the strange situation that she found herself in. 

  ‘It’s been a while since I had anyone to care about,’ Waverly responded and then, ‘Go n-éirí leat,’

Nicole recognised the soft lilt, ‘The words of your mother’s people?’

Waverly nodded, ‘A wish for you to have luck in your task ahead,’

Nodding her gratitude, Nicole turned to head up the field and Waverly watched her until she had disappeared into the trees.

 

*

 

The start of Nicole’s hunt proved to be a frustrating one when thoughts of Waverly forced her to retrace her steps more than once when, distracted, she lost sight of the stag’s path.  After several such occurrences, she forced herself to stop and stand beneath the shadowed cover of a huge oak tree, hand resting on the aged, noble bark.  She took a few breaths and let her mind pull in the direction it had been tugging her since she had stepped beneath the trees.

Waverly.

Sweet, beautiful … incredible … Waverly.

Her lips curled, unseen dimples settling within her cheeks, at the thoughts of the young woman and – yes – the wolf too.  Acceptance of the wolf had been easier than Nicole could have imagined.  But then, in a world where a young woman could come across a stranger on the point of death and risk everything she had to save her – perhaps it was easier to accept other things so incredible too.  After all, it wasn’t just that Waverly, alone and isolated, had brought a complete stranger into her life and shared what little she had, but that she had risked exposure of her secret.  A secret she didn’t deserve to carry.  A curse cast upon her by men with more power than they deserved and enough arrogance to make them wield it with selfish intent.  Perhaps then, Waverly’s decision to not leave Nicole to her fate beneath the shifting leaves – a fate that surely had but one outcome – was truly more magical than her nightly transformation.

But these were not the thoughts that distracted her most.  No – what kept her attention from the needed path were thoughts of her imminent departure from this place and intent to never return.  The woods and the open land might not have been calling her as strongly as they once had, but Nicole had carved a life for herself, and she could not simply abandon it.  But, by same vein, she was caught in tumultuous indecision of the young woman and her fate.  Certainly, Waverly had no need of assistance, she had played just fine with the cards dealt her before Nicole had appeared in her life and she would, without doubt, continue just the same after Nicole left.  Even so, Nicole’s vehement desire to repay Waverly for her kindness appeared to have morphed into something more – a need to do what she could to make Waverly’s life a little easier.  The roof on her home was fixed – as was the door.  Her horse had a new shelter and even a name.  And Nicole’s use of the hazel patch seemed to have laid a ghost to rest because she had seen Waverly attend to it, harvesting her own wood in preparation for a rekindling of her weaving skills.  And yet, Nicole still felt that indescribable itch to do more.  But what more could she do?  After all, she was just a woodsman, tracker and sometime hunter.  What did she know about what a woman living alone, cast out and isolated, even needed?

The answer was simple, of course, and once it came to her she was instantly on the stag’s trail again, mind settled to her task and now the greater need for successful outcome.  The antlers might have been promised to the blacksmith but the rest she would give to Waverly.  If Nicole was lucky enough to catch the stag within good distance of Waverly’s home, she could return it in its entirety and assist in the butchering of it.  The offal of a beast, killed swiftly and with respect, would fetch a fine price in the village – a price better offered to Nicole than the blacksmith alone could offer Waverly.  And any other part not kept by Waverly herself, Nicole would take to sell and demand a price as fair as she could get.  She was confident that enough coin could be earned to keep Waverly comfortable for some time and, if wisely considered, could lead to further coin if she were able to buy better tools and increase the hazel growth once more.  Nicole had seen the quality of products that Waverly had created – the village would surely forget the lie told by Champ in favour of well-constructed baskets and other such useful items.  Fuelled with optimism, she headed deeper into the woods, keen eye to the tracks and all that she hoped for as its conclusion.

 

The tracks led north for some time before Nicole found herself veering west as the sun passed its highest point.  A thinning of the trees provided the view of open, rocky land stretching further north to become the steps of the mountains soaring up to jagged peaks.  Nicole found more tracks here, fresher ones crossing over older ones – it seemed the stag had settled in this area.  She adjusted her speed to quieten her step, pausing frequently to survey the area with hawk-like gaze.  The hopeful flash of tan fur revealed a doe and older fawn on several occasions but she felt no disappointment at this and merely settled herself to the ways of the hunt. 

And then she saw him.

A truly wonderous animal with good points atop a strong, regal head.  He showed a noble stature as he paced across a patch of open ground beyond the edge of the woods.  She took a moment to study him, to steel her heart to the task ahead and offer a silent prayer to the Gods of the Hunt to let her aim be true.  A moment to respectfully admire the stag a little longer and then she edged closer, moving silently downwind.  She had tested the range of the bow already and now edged as close as she dared, needing to stay unseen but just as eager to be close enough for the arrow to not lose any momentum.  She slipped three arrows from the quiver.  Set one upon the ground before her and held the other dexterously as she slotted the third.  She sighted down the shaft, taking note of the leaves as they showed the wind’s direction.  Her hands settled quickly as her breath became her focus.  She might have shot countless arrows during her life, but she never rushed and never anticipated the end before the arrow had even been loosed.  Another breath as she waited for the wind to settle and then the arrow was free.  It flew as true and straight as any she had ever fired but she took no time to admire it.  The second arrow was slotted instantly, the bow pulled back and the feather stroking her cheek as it departed a second later.  The first arrow had already pierced the stag and the second followed close behind, sending the creature stumbling and then falling to the ground.  Nicole dropped the bow and sprinted from the cover of the trees.  Long legs carried her to the downed stag and with her dagger already in her grasp, she skidded on her knees and quickly ensured that the animal’s end was swift.

Closing her eyes, she rested her hand against its stilled neck and rested back on her haunches.  Silent words echoed on her breath, carried on the wind that she imagined was spiriting the stag’s essence into the arms of the Mother. 

She bowed her head for a moment and then stood to run back for her bow.  A downed animal attracted many scavengers, and she had little faith in her broken knife’s ability to protect her.  As she did, she caught sight of several piles of stones that had been stacked along the tree line – perhaps ten in all.  Short sentinels, worn and weathered.  Thoughts only for the stag and all she wished for it, she grabbed the bow and turned to head back.

 

  ‘Leave the beast where it is and return to the trees,’

 

The woman’s voice was sharp and reedy, her appearance sudden enough to give Nicole pause.  She looked behind the woman at the broad field that, although open, dipped down enough in an incline to perhaps have hidden her approach.  Nicole’s stare returned to the old woman and her cold eyes, a brown so deep as to be almost black.  She had a strange, shifting countenance – as if Nicole’s sight could do no more than scratch the surface of what was before her.  Focusing on what she could make out, she saw the woman to be tall and thin with a strength and straightness that belied her aged appearance and the worn cloth of the dress and cloak that hung off her stick-like frame.  A breath of wind and Nicole found herself corrected.  The woman wasn’t aged at all, but perhaps a few suns younger than the tavern owner in the village.  Her hair, that had briefly appeared white, was as straight as any arrow and no longer white to Nicole’s eyes but the colour of corn.  Not the pleasing colour of Chrissy’s hair, there was nothing pleasing about the woman before her. 

Thoughts of Chrissy brought warning words from her memory, thoughts that conjured the briefest sight of a line of cairns she had been told not to cross.  ‘… everyone knows to leave the Stone Woman be …’

  ‘Did you hear me, cur?’ the woman sneered, yellowed teeth underscoring the insult with a click as they snapped back together.

Nicole bristled, pulled from the unheeded warning she had brushed aside days ago.  The insult tainted the air between them, but she kept her voice calm as she responded, ‘I apologise for being on your land, I will take my prize and leave you be,’

  ‘The prize was killed upon my land,’

  ‘The arrow was sent from the treeline, do the woods belong to you too?’

The inquiry gave the woman momentary pause, as if unused to being questioned.  The pause was brief but long enough to bring even harsher tone to her words as she moved to stand between Nicole and the felled stag, ‘You will leave it.  It fell upon my land.  My land – my prize – ‘tis the law,’

Nicole huffed a sarcastic laugh, ‘Truly?’  She had travelled far and wide and never heard such a thing, nor had she ever encountered anyone that she felt such an instant dislike for.  It wasn’t just her demeanour or aggressive behaviour – but something deeper.  There was something about her that was unpleasant to the point of menace.

  ‘Do you wish to antagonise me then, cur?’ a laugh, as shrill and unpleasant as the woman herself, ‘You think your borrowed bow and broken knife will save you?’                                           

Nicole stared – caught in surprise at the old woman’s sudden insight.  As she stared, the wind shifted to send swirling shadows across the woman’s impossibly dark eyes.  Nicole bit her lip as a sudden coldness flowed up from her stomach and through her chest.  Her spine too became almost rigid with ice and her fingers trembled into lose fists as cold fear slid through every fibre of her being.  She blinked, the flick of her eyelids distorting the image before her and freezing her further.

But Nicole had faced many a fearful beast and seen shadows morph into dangers untold – she had survived them all and would not be cowered by some trick of the light.  She managed to swallow and find words, ‘I will leave you fair share of the stag, for the trouble I have caused,’

The hag – there was no other name for woman’s countenance, despite her apparent age – considered the offer as her eyes returned to normal.  Eventually she gave a curt nod, ‘Take the points to the blacksmith then – the rest is mine,’

The nagging cold that still kept Nicole’s spine rigid forced the words from her lips, ‘Very well …’ she bowed her head, ashamed at herself and her failure but not willing to fight the woman – no matter the prize at stake.

  ‘You actually think you could best me but fear of such stills your hand …’ the woman chuckled, ‘Why not try it then?  You might have honour enough to be more than the cur I thought you – but your nobleness makes you no more than a bird with broken claws to me,’ a laugh, shrill and piercing, ‘Take your points, little hawk, and fly away home,’

A glinting knife landed on the ground between them.  The blade strong and wicked sharp.  She snatched it up and had to move around the woman to kneel beside the stag’s head.  The stone woman watched as her blade efficiently prised the antlers from the dead beast’s skull. 

Driving the blade into the ground by the stag, Nicole lifted to her feet and cast a simple request at the woman, ‘Treat him well,’  She didn’t wait for a response nor look at the woman as she passed and headed back to the trees.

 

*

 

Once free of the Stone Woman’s influence, the unsettling feelings settled to anger and then quickly to frustrated disappointment.  Thoughts of all she had planned for the stag were hard to shake but harder still was the nagging feeling that she had let Waverly down.  So keen had she been to present the stag to the smaller woman that failure to do so now felt like a solid punch in the gut.  And one more bruising than any Champ or his buddies had inflicted.  The disappointment cooled the air as she walked, and she intermittently kicked at dried leaves in a petty venting of annoyance.  It was stupid of course.  A hunter who did not quickly become wise to the feelings of frustration or failure did not remain hunting for long.  As such she was familiar with such feelings and had always managed to shrug them off before.  Why then were the emotions so slow to leave this time?  Why did the frustration feel so much worse than it ever had before?  Perhaps it was due to the unpleasant and then quelling of the successful hunt.  After all, she had tracked it for hours and felled the creature with the swift, respectful end it deserved.  To then lose the bounty at the final moment was a frustration she was unused to.  But not just lost – taken.  Stolen by an unpleasant woman with powers that Nicole had to admit, she had no wish to challenge.  The entire encounter had left a foul taste in her mouth and a sickening heaviness in her stomach that refused to fade no matter how far the mountains fell behind her. 

Pausing at the stream, she settled on one knee and cupped water into her mouth.  After drinking her fill, she slipped the used arrows from the quiver and washed the dried blood from them.  She checked the tips and shaft, finding them intact and ready for further use.  Satisfied by that at least, she slipped them back into the quiver and slipped her knife from its sheath.  The broken blade was tainted by dried blood and although the knife was all but useless, she still washed it clean – as much in respect of the stag as the habit of taking care of her tools.  It was as she stared at the broken knife that her thoughts lightened for the first time since she had recrossed the Stone Woman’s boundary.  She let the thoughts circle like a hunting bird over the trees above her as her finger ran over the handle of her knife – worn by age and use, the veins of growth through the shaped antler were smoother and less defined than they had been.  She smiled to herself as her hunting thoughts selected a target with keen eye and swooped upon them. 

Yes – that would do just fine.

Settled to her plan, she headed off at a brisk space, skirting from the path that would lead her back to Waverly’s field and instead heading straight for the village.  She emerged from the trees onto open land and followed the feint path towards the village.  As she walked, the light of day fading fast, she kept her eyes alert for where the path would split and head in the direction Waverly had taken that sunny morning – although the morning was remembered as sunnier by the light of her memory and thoughts of the young woman.  She spotted the path with a smile and felt a strange pull to follow it, to return to Waverly before the day passed to night once more.  She shook it off and continued towards the blacksmith.

 

Mattie had covered her forge, experience and practice allowing her to settle the coals into a gentle glow that would last through the night and see them easily brought to life again come the following morning.  A sensible option, one that would see her set to work quicker than if she had let the coals cool completely.

The blacksmith draped a leather hide over her anvil, mumbling something under her breath and then looked up as Nicole stepped within. 

  ‘You bid your anvil goodnight?’ the redhead asked.

Mattie was unbothered by the question and replied simply, ‘I merely show it my gratitude, after all without it – what am I?’  Question answered, the blacksmith motioned to the antlers as she stepped closer, ‘A fine prize indeed, you did …’ she stopped, rocking back on her heels as her lips twisted into a grimace, her eyes darkening.  Before Nicole could ask, she had cussed something and then closed the distance between them, her demeanour suddenly even colder than her usual curt countenance.  She took the antlers and turned them towards the fading light, saying bluntly, ‘I cannot fully measure their worth without the light of day.  Return tomorrow, we will discuss our trade then,’

  ‘I shall leave them for your morning eyes then,’ Nicole smiled.

The redhead’s trust seemed to warm the blacksmith a little and she bowed her head in acknowledgement.  ‘A fair trade will be struck come the morn,’

 

Nicole headed back the way she had come, following the path when it veered off in its two directions.  To reach Waverly’s she had need to pass through the edge of the woods and then alongside a path that led her past the hazel coppice.  She felt a moment of sadness.  How must it have felt to be Waverly – to walk this way and be reminded of all that she had lost while the hazel grew regardless?  Would the small woman smile now when once she had perhaps been sad?  Would thoughts of Nicole cross her mind as she watched the harvested hazel growing?  Would such thoughts make her smile?  Would she even think of her at all after they bid farewell?  Nicole hoped for Waverly to retain fond memories – a hope she shared.

The soft pad of feet gave her pause and she turned slowly, smiling in greeting as the wolf with a white-tipped ear emerged from the shadows.

  ‘I’m sorry I missed dinner,’ Nicole said softly, her words reminding her that she hadn’t eaten for most of the day.  Even so, the sight of the wolf warmed her greatly and distracted her from such simple needs.

The wolf moved to walk beside her, and they journeyed in comfortable silence past the hazel patch and into the field.  The moon above was large in the sky, casting a silver shimmer over everything.  Wanting to enjoy the moonlight, Nicole settled onto the ground and stretched her long legs out in front of her.  She hadn’t meant it as an invite – or perhaps she had.  Either way, the wolf settled beside her and rested her head upon her thigh as Nicole rested back on her hands and stared up at the stars.

  ‘I do not wish to keep you from a night of hunting,’ Nicole announced after a time but even she heard the simplest of lies hidden within her words.  She cleared her throat as her fingers drifted lazily through thick fur, ‘Allow me a few more moments perhaps?’

The wolf had shown no intent to move and still didn’t as large brown eyes rolled upwards to look at her.

Nicole sighed wistfully, ‘You really are magnificent,’  She made her voice clear, ensuring that Waverly heard the truth in it before she added, ‘I know it must be hard – to become this way every night – but …’ she stopped, unable to find the words and perhaps not really knowing what she meant anyway.  ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled, somewhat pathetically but needing to end her rambling words somehow.  As if suddenly remembering that the silence would stretch on unless she herself filled it, she found herself grumbling, ‘My hunt was successful and I delivered a fine set of points to the blacksmith but …’ a shake of the head as she tried to not let her frustration spoil this moment, but she had started speaking and she couldn’t just stop, ‘The cost of them was high,’  She looked down and half smiled at the very human-like questioning she saw in the wolf’s eyes.  Her amusement was quick to fade under the preparing of words in answer, ‘I felled the beast on the land of an unpleasant woman who declared the prize her own,’

The wolf was on her feet instantly, suddenly piercing eyes capturing Nicole’s and demanding more details.

  ‘Her land was beyond a line of cairns – Chrissy in the tavern warned me of her but … I was caught in the hunt and didn’t see them,’  She watched as the wolf started to pad in a circle, a low rumble echoing from deep within her chest.  Nicole was quick to understand, ‘You know of her?  This … Stone Woman?’

A growl cut the night and sent cold fingers dancing along Nicole’s spine.  A flash of teeth and then the wolf turned and bounded for the trees.

Nicole watched the dark shadow disappear and then, with nothing more to do, she climbed to her feet and walked the rest of the way to the small home.  She paused at the door, hoping that the wolf would return.  When she didn’t, Nicole stepped inside to eat the meal Waverly had left for her before settling for the night.

 

*

 

She hadn’t expected to sleep at all but did and found herself waking to the heavy thump of the wolf jumping through the space in the wall.  Surprised by how close dawn was, Nicole rolled her legs out the bed and quickly pulled her boots on, readying herself to leave before Waverly changed into her human form.  The low growl made her pause halfway to the door and she turned, eyebrows furrowing in a frown.  ‘You want me to stay?’

The wolf huffed and, apparently deciding that she had been understood, circled behind the bed. 

Nicole moved to the kitchen, keeping her back to the sleeping area and tried not to listen – although she wasn’t sure what she expected to hear.

The first light of day through the windows was accompanied by a shuffle and then a voice deepened by anger, ‘How could you have been so damned stupid?’

Nicole spun, shocked as much by the anger and the words themselves.  Her surprise was added to by the fact that Waverly had clearly not wanted to waste time in casting the words at the redhead because she had barely covered herself with a blanket.  Nicole stared, mouth open and mind racing.

  ‘Are you going to answer or just stand there gawking at me?’ Waverly demanded as she adjusted the blanket to cover herself more effectively.

Nicole was hurt by the accusation and snapped back, ‘If I understood your question – I would be happy to answer,’

  ‘You antagonised the Stone Witch!’ Waverly cried, shaking her head and revealing the fear beneath her anger, ‘What were you thinking?’

  ‘I didn’t know I had encroached onto her land, and it certainly wasn’t my intent to antagonise her,’ Nicole replied defensively, ‘I felled the stag from the treeline and then crossed the field to ensure its swift end.  The woman appeared from nowhere and she was the one who provoked anything, not me,’ she paused to take a breath, ‘I was focused on the hunt and a respectful kill,’

  ‘Yes, I suppose you were,’ Waverly sighed and seemed to sag within the covering of the blanket as her eyes roved over Nicole, ‘And she did you no harm?’

  ‘She demanded the stag from me,’ Nicole growled angrily but quickly settled again, ‘but at least I got the antlers to take to the blacksmith,’  With Waverly’s questions answered, Nicole had one of her own, ‘Who is she?  The girl at the tavern called her the Stone Woman but you call her … witch …’ she tried to laugh, ‘Do you truly believe in such things?’

Waverly stared at her with such a look of furious disbelief that Nicole rocked back on her heels, ashamed by her question.  And shamed further by Waverly’s response, ‘How can you ask me that after what you have seen me turn into?’

Nicole had cast her response unthinkingly and now she wished with all her heart that she could suck the words back into her foolish mouth.  ‘I’m sorry … I – ’

  ‘I call her witch because that it was she is,’ Waverly said quietly but with such venom that she could not have screamed her words any louder.

With her words the final truth was revealed and Nicole stared back, shame and anger warring in her eyes.  Her breath burned her throat, eager to spill words of apology but her mind would not help her, and she just hung her head as Waverly turned and walked away.

 

Nicole had no stomach for food and so, forgoing breakfast, she went to tend to Cara.  The horse greeted her with a playful nodding and eagerly exited the shelter to explore the field in search of dandelions and whatever morsels she could find.  ‘Well, at least someone still has an appetite,’ Nicole sighed and then sneered at herself for her brief moment of self-pity.  She strolled over to where the horse had found a patch of clover and patted her shoulder, ‘Seems I’m as stupid as your mistress is beautiful …’ she mumbled, although perhaps not as quiet as she had thought.

  ‘You still think I’m beautiful?’

Nicole turned, eyes and face warming to the soft tone, ‘I do,’

Waverly managed a wan smile, ‘Despite my anger and harsh words?’

  ‘An anger that deserves to split the sky above,’ Nicole told her honestly, ‘You have been wronged, Waverly, more than once.  How you have stayed so … kind … after all you have been through … it is incredible, as are you,’

The smaller woman flushed, as was her way when Nicole complimented her with words she had never heard before.  Yet she had come to trust in the redhead’s view, even with how uncomfortable it sometimes made her. 

  ‘I am surprised your anger does not spill forth at every opportunity,’ Nicole added.

  ‘What good would it do with no one to see or hear it?’

Nicole’s words came swiftly, ‘You must not be struck dumb once more when I leave,’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Waverly asked, using the question to cover the coolness that settled in her stomach at being reminded of the inevitable.

  ‘Take your words and let them burn with your anger, speak to the tavern owner and his daughter, they are good people – they will listen,’

Waverly shook her head and moved to walk away but Nicole stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Please, Waves, you cannot continue like this,’

She smiled up at Nicole, ‘But things are so much better now.  I have a roof that will not leak come the winter storms, a door that no longer lets in more air and light than a window and …’ she glanced at the horse, ‘… my best friend has a name and comfort not previously known,’ she rested her hand over Nicole’s, ‘And I have the memory of being called beautiful and believing it to be true in your eyes,’ a smile, soft and warm, ‘My anger will not feed nor clothe me, Nicole, but it is how I survive.  Every day that passes to night, every dusk when I accept the change that comes upon me … it is another day that Hardy loses.  He set out to have me and when I refused, he set out to break me.  But he will not, and I will survive as woman and wolf just to spite him,’

Despite the calm of her tone, Nicole heard the strength of her conviction and bowed her head in respectful acknowledgement.  All too soon, she felt Waverly’s fingers slide from hers and she followed their path, dropping her hand to her side.

Waverly turned and they strolled almost leisurely back to the house.

  ‘So – Champ has a witch to fight his battles too, hmm?’ Nicole asked as they walked.

Waverly glanced over.  She should have known that the redhead would seek all the answers.  ‘He does,’ she replied simply, ‘or rather, his family does … or did …’ she shook herself as if shedding an unpleasant feeling, ‘No one talks about it anymore and I only heard the stories when I was a child from older children wanting to scare me …’ she paused, ‘One time I had nightmares for three nights running after a group of children cornered me in the village and made me listen to the eldest boy tell me about the Stone Witch – the Hardy Witch,’

Nicole frowned at the smile that curled Waverly’s lips.

She chuckled, ‘Wynonna broke his nose when she found out,’  Taking a breath to ease the hurt that was still heavy in her chest when she thought of her sister, Waverly continued, ‘They call her the Stone Woman because they prefer to hide from the truth of her.  They say she has been here longer than anyone can remember, but perhaps it was her mother or grandmother before her … I don’t know,’ she shrugged and continued, ‘Champ’s grandfather was a young man in the village with little more than the clothes on his back but – as the story goes – he found something in the mountains that made his fortune. 

  ‘He built a huge house at the edge of the village and paid those who were desperate, a pittance to work the land around it.  He prospered, eventually passing his wealth and his greediness to his son. 

  ‘When Champ’s father craved power as much as money, he moved the family to the next town where he either bought his way into the role of magistrate … or had help from the Stone Witch in such endeavours.  Either way, he is a cruel deliverer of justice, and we are best rid of him and his sons,’

  ‘Except Champ …’ Nicole sighed.

Waverly nodded as she pushed the door to the house open, ‘He is an idiot and least favoured because of it.  He has no head for business or power but craves the sense of it no less,’ she moved to the stove and stoked the fire within, ‘In our little village he thinks himself a big man and his father indulges him with enough coin to keep him here.  The situation suits them both,’

  ‘And when he needs it, he has the power of a witch to help him?’ Nicole queried but it was more of a statement.

Waverly shrugged, ‘I don’t know the details and I don’t care to.  All I know is that I spurned Champ Hardy and the next night I became a wolf,’

Nicole considered that and found the same reasonable – if incredible – conclusion.  It was the first time she had really joined the pieces of it all and felt foolish for not doing so before.  After all, Hardy couldn’t even set a decent trap in the woods – how could such a man manage to bespell a young woman into turning into a wolf every night?  She should have asked sooner how he had done it – but then again, what good would an answer have done?

  ‘I still think you should bring him and all he has done into the light,’ Nicole said firmly.

Waverly shook her head, ‘I am surviving, Nicole and, as I said, I each day’s victory keeps me company out here on my own … I will not risk the fear and confusion of the people I used to know, or worse, the Stone Witch’s wrath upon them if they believe what I have to say,’

Nicole wanted to argue but Waverly lifted her hand and shook her head, gently commanding her to silence.  Sighing with frustration but accepting Waverly’s right to choose her path, she nodded and stayed silent.

 

*

 

As the sun neared its zenith, Nicole convinced Waverly to take a nap and then headed to the village, pausing by the tavern to return the bow and quiver.

  ‘It served you well then?’ Nedley asked. 

  ‘The arrows were as true as any I have ever fired,’ her eyes moved to Chrissy who was returning them stowing them safely in the back room, ‘Your mother had skills to be proud of,’

Chrissy nodded sadly, ‘I just wish I had had the chance to …’ she stopped, noticing the look that passed between her father and the visitor, ‘What?’

Nedley lifted a shoulder, his words for Nicole, ‘I haven’t said anything in case you changed your mind,’

Nicole wasn’t offended.  She was a woman who stuck to her word, but the tavern owner didn’t know her as well and so had been considerate of his daughter’s emotions.  She looked to the young woman, ‘I would like to show you how to use your mother’s bow before I leave,’

  ‘Truly?’ Chrissy gasped.

  ‘It is the least I can do given your father’s trust and generosity in lending me your mother’s things,’ Nicole replied earnestly, ‘Perhaps tomorrow?’

Nedley grimaced, ‘I am away to town tomorrow, I have business that cannot wait,’ he turned to his daughter, ‘You will be needed here for the two days I will be gone,’

Chrissy’s face fell but Nicole was not so discouraged, ‘In three days then – can you spare your daughter then?’

  ‘I thought you had long since desired to be on your way,’ he responded but Chrissy was quick to speak over him in case his words caused Nicole to change his mind.

  ‘Three days is not so long,’ her eyes implored first her father and then Nicole, ‘And I am a fast learner – two lessons, maybe three will be all I need before you depart.  A week at most and you can be on your way,’

  ‘Chrissy,’ Nedley sighed.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Nicole smiled, ‘The loan of the bow provided me with what I needed to continue my journey – a delay to repay that kindness would not be a delay at all,’

  ‘Father?’ Chrissy asked hopefully.

His smiled carried so much affection that it warmed Nicole to see it.  ‘I can spare you for a time when I return,’ he agreed, ‘After all, you mother would never forgive me if I didn’t,’

Chrissy hugged him and then asked with unveiled excitement, ‘I will meet you here then?’

  ‘You must take the three days to settle your emotions,’ Nicole laughed, ‘or such excitement will see the arrows loosed to the heavens!’

Nedley laughed good naturedly as Chrissy flushed a deep red.  She calmed herself before asking, ‘And when you come, will you tell me about Waverly?  I have not seen nor spoken to her in so long.  Is she well?’

Nicole didn’t rush to answer, and the other woman took her pause as a question.

  ‘Champ was running his drunken mouth off about her and how she’s tricked you just like she did him,’ Chrissy replied and watched the way it was Nicole who flushed red – this time with anger.

  ‘Just so you know,’ Nedley said quickly, ‘no one thinks any less of you for staying with her – everyone needs a bed for the night, right?’

  ‘So, you believe him?’ Nicole asked, voice quietened to barely a whisper, but they still heard the barely contained rage.

Chrissy rested her hand against her father’s arm to stop him from replying, ‘My father keeps peace in the village as best he can – he has never spoken out against Waverly,’

  ‘Nor for her,’ Nicole sighed, turning her anger from the pair when she couldn’t help but understand their predicament.  Nedley was a business owner and well-respected within the village.  If he voiced in favour of Waverly or – worse – in opposition to the Hardys, he had much to lose.

Chrissy looked down, ashamed.  ‘The Hardy’s still collect their taxes from the village and would think nothing of increasing them to force my father – or anyone else – out of business if they saw fit,’

Nicole frowned, ‘Waverly has said nothing of this,’

  ‘She probably doesn’t know – her family have always lived outside of the village and the Hardy’s have never paid them any attention … until – ’

  ‘Hardy’s business is his own,’ Nedley cut in, but he too seemed ashamed by his own admission, ‘No one speaks against him or his family … it’s just not worth it,’

Nicole studied him as she listened to the undercurrent beneath his words.  He wasn’t just talking about unfair taxes or the power wielded by those with enough greed to do as they pleased, he was referring to something else.  Something that would remain unsaid.  She was sure that neither Nedley or his daughter, or anyone else besides Champ Hardy, knew what happened to Waverly at sunset.  But a dark rumour could have as much power as any truth – sometimes more and it seemed that the stories told by children were heeded by the adults of the village.  And it didn’t matter if they or anyone they had ever known had fallen foul of the Stone Woman – the threat was enough and the stories, fed by generations of retelling, were enough.  It didn’t matter if they had only rumour and hearsay with which to advise against dealings with the woman near the mountains and her apparent protection of the Hardys – it was enough of a threat to condemn a young woman to solitude and vilification just to save themselves from the imagined threat. 

Nicole wanted to think them foolish and naïve.  She wanted to sneer and revel in her decision to lead a solitary, nomadic life far from the foolish whispers of a small community such as this.  But she knew the honest truth that had stoked the rumours, and she could not deny them their caution because of it. 

Taking a breath, she rolled her shoulders and straightened her spine, ‘Waverly saved my life when she had no need to.  She is kind and generous, somehow untainted by the shadow of Hardy’s lies,’

Nedley pursed his lips, moustache twitching as his emotions were mirrored in the glistening eyes of his daughter.

  ‘I will tell her that you asked after her,’ Nicole told Chrissy, ‘Perhaps we could take your lesson to the edge of the woods near her land … offer the chance of a meeting, perhaps?’

Nedley lifted his hand, giving the choice of response to his daughter.

Chrissy bowed her head slightly, ‘If you think she will talk to me …’

In truth, Nicole had no idea how Waverly would react but all she could do was pass on the details of their words and see what her response was to be.  She gave a small, non-comital smile as her answer and added, ‘I will see you in a few days,’

 

She felt a sense of familiarity as she walked through the village, and it left her with a more accustomed sense – an ache in her legs that called on her to tread one of the roads leading from the area.  It was a sensation she always felt when she stayed long enough to have a familiarity with an area.  It happened far quicker when she found herself staying in or near a village, but even a small camp within the woods or by a river would eventually become so normal that it would create the same calling to move on.

The ache in her legs – although it was truly only within her mind – hovered at the edge of her awareness as she neared the blacksmith’s.

Mattie greeted her with a nod and directed towards a workbench where the antler rested, now cut into several smaller pieces.  The sight gave Nicole confidence that the blacksmith was happy with the points and a fair trade could be reached – even though she would be asking for more than initially intended.

  ‘I will use my best steel,’ Mattie announced in confirmation of Nicole’s unspoken thoughts, ‘I can assure you a strong and resilient blade, thicker and longer than the one you had – it will serve you well on your travels wherever you go,’

Nicole had no doubt and smiled at her words before adding, ‘That would be amazing, but …’

Mattie crossed her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow, ‘But?’

   ‘I will take a smaller blade of less quality,’

The blacksmith tilted her head slightly, her tone seemingly offended, ‘My sweat creates only the best blade I can – I will not lower the quality to lower the price,’ she waved at the antler pieces, ‘And there is no need – you have enough here to pay for it,’

Nicole was grateful for the blacksmith’s integrity, ‘I only ask because I require more of your sweat and skill,’

Her eyebrow arched a little further before it dropped into an expression of soft amusement, ‘You wish more … something for a certain young woman?’ her smile was genuine and warm, ‘A gift to show gratitude or … a keepsake to remember you by?’

Nicole shifted and cleared her throat, ‘Waverly has been good to me – a good knife will see her well looked after when I leave,’

Mattie’s smile widened, ‘As will a new roof and shelter for her horse …’ Nicole’s questioning frown was waved away, along with the words that she had perhaps not intended to speak aloud, ‘I can create her a blade of equal worth … a little smaller given your differences,’

  ‘And equal look?’ Nicole asked and then seemed embarrassed by her own words.

Mattie nodded, ‘Of course,’ she looked down at the antler, taking her time to select three of the larger pieces, ‘Choose one of these and I will use it for both the blades,’

Nicole was careful in her choosing and the blacksmith looked on approvingly, as if giving the redhead the choice had marked some sort of test.  She lifted a piece and turned it over in the light for a moment and then handed it over.  Mattie took it and studied it herself, nodding with the same quiet approval. 

  ‘I will set to work immediately,’ her eyes lifted from the antler in her hands, ‘I am sure you are keen to be on your way,’

  ‘There is no need to rush, I – ’

  ‘I never rush a blade,’

Nicole mumbled an apology and then added, ‘I will be here for a few more days,’

Mattie nodded to herself and smiled, ‘Yes, more imagined debts to pay, hmm?’

Nicole studied the blacksmith, suddenly reminded of the Stone Witch and the peculiar knowledge she had shown and felt a cold shiver run up her spine.  She shook herself from such foolish thoughts before they could expand beyond their true worth.  The blacksmith’s words had an obvious explanation – Nedley might not have told his daughter about Nicole’s offer, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t mentioned it to someone else.

  ‘Regardless, the blades will be ready two days hence,’ the blacksmith replied, her tone light with apparent eagerness to get started.

Taking the hint, Nicole thanked her and exited the forge.

 

As she rounded the corner of the building, a figure appeared in front of her and – was no doubt his intention – she collided with him. 

  ‘Trouble looking where you’re going, cur?’ 

Instantly her fingers curled into fists and, matching his height, she glared at him but kept her tongue for fear of calling him the name that burned across her lips.

Apparently unaware of the anger that clearly boiled within the woman before him, Champ continued his riling of her, ‘Isn’t it time you moved on?  You’re not welcome here,’

The sound of his childish angst settled her anger a little and she found the desire to play a little, ‘Actually, I quite like the company.  I’m planning on sticking around,’

Champ looked her up and down and then smirked as if he was privy to knowledge she was not, ‘Do you really think that’s a good idea?’

  ‘Yes – I do,’ she responded and leant in, underscoring what he saw in her eyes with words made loud by morality, ‘She is too good for you and your selfish heart.  You will never have her – no matter what you do!’

Champ stared at her, sneering, ‘What the hell do you care?  This is not your village, and she is not your concern,’

Nicole was shocked by his callousness, ‘You have sentenced a beautiful young woman to live alone and afraid, isolated by all who could love her,’ she continued through his stumbling attempts to argue further, her voice turning from disgust to reason, ‘She is never going to come to you, be a man for once and do the right thing, undo what you had done,’

Dumbfounded, he cleared his throat and tried to laugh, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’

Nicole continued, her words dispersing his lie like the thin smoke it was, ‘Speak to Her – she did your bidding, and you can see it undone.  It’s the right thing to do,’

Champ waved his hand, dismissing her as he backed away, ‘You’re talking nonsense,’

Nicole moved past him with final words, ‘Go to her and let Waverly be free of you both!’

Champ stared after the redhead, lips curling into an unpleasant sneer, as he laughed nastily at her departing figure, ‘Oh – I think I am going to go and see Her right now,’

 

Nicole crossed the field without paying too much attention to her surroundings because the route seemed so familiar now.  Strangely though, the ache which that familiarity usually wrought within her legs faded as she neared the woodland that would take her through to Waverly’s land.  She passed the hazel growth and found herself smiling at the sense of coming home that was so unusual but welcomed none the less.  She paused to study the hazel and found that some of the harvested wood had already started to sprout new growth.  That was a good sign and one that she would share with Waverly.  She continued onwards towards the field, deciding to share Chrissy’s words too but not the incident with Hardy.  Waverly’s eyes shadowed whenever Champ was mentioned and Nicole hated to see it. 

Cara strolled over as Nicole emerged from the woodland to receive warm woods and a neck pat before accompanying Nicole towards the house.

  ‘Hey – let me help with that,’ Nicole called as she jogged to where Waverly was hoisting a bucket of water onto the edge of the well at the corner of the house.

Waverly shooed her away, ‘I have managed thus far – and will manage again soon enough,’

  ‘Yes, but why when you don’t have to?’ Nicole countered and grabbed the bucket handle, hoisting it from the wall and carrying it towards the house.

  ‘Your chest is well healed I see,’

  ‘Thanks to you,’ Nicole reminded her as she set the bucket by the door and straightened, ‘I am sure there are those in the village who would provide coin for that willow drink of yours,’

Waverly pondered that thoughtfully, ‘Perhaps … but I doubt the blacksmith will take it to sell.  She is happy for the pelts I offer but …’

  ‘What about Chrissy?’ Nicole suggested, adding quickly, ‘I saw her when I returned her mother’s bow … she asked after your health and hoped you were well,’

  ‘I guess people know that you’re here then,’

Nicole grunted an ascent without providing any further answer, ‘I offered to teach her how to use her mother’s bow – I am to show her in three days when her father returns from business in the town,’  She sat herself down on the step and lifted her features to the late sun as Waverly settled beside her.

  ‘And where are you planning to stay until then?’

Nicole’s head snapped round, an embarrassed flush at her cheeks as she stammered, ‘Of course I did not expect t-t-to stay here …’ she waved her hand, motioning up the field, ‘… I will camp in the woods … it’s where I belong …’  She hoped that Waverly wouldn’t catch the falsehood in her words.  Truthfully she had expected to stay with Waverly – or rather, hadn’t considered anything else and she was ashamed of herself.

Waverly stared up the field, eyes drifting along the treeline, ‘I hear there’s a wolf that prowls those woods every night … and you have yet to precure a new weapon with which to defend yourself,’ she turned to Nicole, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips, ‘You must stay here where it is safe – at least until you have the means with which to keep yourself safe from such a beast,’

Nicole chuckled good-naturedly, ‘That is very kind of you,’

  ‘I merely worry for the wolf,’ Waverly replied simply, ‘It would barely get a stomach full if it chose you as its meal,’

  ‘Well – the beast didn’t seem to mind the rabbit I tossed it and I’m pretty sure I have more meat on me than a little coney,’

Waverly lifted a shoulder, ‘There’s not an ounce of plumpness on you – you would be a poor meal indeed,’

Nicole leant closer, eyes shining with a devilish glint, ‘I can assure you, the wolf would find me very tasty …’ 

Suddenly her words and the closeness of their faces – and particularly their lips – made her eyes widen and she sat back, clearing her throat. 

Waverly did the same and was quick to her feet, brushing imaginary dirt from her skirt as she said, ‘Yes – well – speaking of tasty … I should start evening meal.  Could you please fetch me some of that three-cornered leaf that you seem so fond of me cooking?’

Nicole lifted beside her, ‘Sure,’ she agreed and then watched as Waverly went into the house, wondering if the smaller woman knew that it wasn’t just her cooking of the pleasant herb that she was growing fond of.

 

~*~

 

Nicole flexed her fingers and cautiously studied the purple stripe that lined the skin just below her knuckles.  She had spent the day teaching Waverly how to weave the hazel to make fence panels and, distracted by the sun catching Waverly’s hair and making it look rather lovely, her loss of attention had seen a withy snap, whip-like, across the back of her hand.  She had contained her self-wrought anger … not at all … and had hissed and cursed as she shook her hand as if she could dispel the sharp burning.  Waverly had watched her with a mixture of sympathy and amusement that had gone a long way to ease the sting of it.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Nicole had demanded but couldn’t hide the laughter in her voice.

Waverly had chuckled openly, ‘I’ve just never heard profanities strung together so musically,’  She had reached out to take Nicole’s hand and, wincing as she studied the raised line, added, ‘Come to the well – cold water will settle that right down,’

She had been right – of course – and now Nicole was sitting beneath a large moon and smiling to herself at the memory of Waverly’s gentle touch.  Of course, she had been recipient of her care previously but had hardly been in a position to enjoy it.

She looked up as the wolf padded from the shadows, a rabbit held between glinting teeth.

  ‘So … you’ve decided to repay your debt?’

The wolf’s rump hit the ground with a thump and then dropped the rabbit on Nicole’s thigh.

  ‘Thanks,’ Nicole grumbled, ‘but that rabbit I gave you cost me a tankard of mead that night.  It’s gonna take more than …’  She stopped as the wolf stooped and licked the bruise on the back of her hand.  ‘Told you I’d taste good,’ Nicole smiled and ruffled the hair on the back of the wolf’s neck with her other hand.  A few more licks and the wolf dropped with a satisfied huff, head resting beside the rabbit carcass.  Nicole slid her fingers through the fur between the wolf’s shoulders and marvelled at the way they both relaxed beneath the moonlight.  Nicole barely touched Waverly while in human form – the longest being when she had caught her when she fell off the roof.  And although Waverly had no doubt touched her a lot more – that had been to tend to her wounds.  Yet here they were, wolf and woodsman, laying together while Nicole stroked her fingers through the thick, black fur.  Nicole would have thought it incredible – had she allowed herself time for consideration.  She didn’t though.  Preferring instead to just accept things as they were – the magic and the magical.

  ‘I plan to go to the village tomorrow,’ Nicole announced after a lengthy, relaxed silence.

The wolf lifted her head, eyes searching Nicole’s briefly before lowering again.

Nicole understood the question.  ‘I know that I am not due to go and see Chrissy until the day after but …’ she smiled at her own impatience, ‘… I have something to collect from the blacksmith,’

The words – for whatever reason – brought the wolf to her feet and, after shaking herself, she rumbled a low growl and headed off into the woods.

Nicole stared after the departing figure and long after she had been swallowed by the shadows.  Sighing, she climbed to her feet, grabbed the rabbit and headed to the house and her borrowed bed.

 

In the morning, Waverly was dressed and sharing breakfast when words that perhaps she had wanted to speak the night before now slipped from more able lips.  ‘You are going to collect your new blade from the blacksmith?’

Nicole swallowed before answering, ‘I am, yes,’

  ‘Then you will soon be on your way – once you have shown Chrissy how to fire her mother’s bow,’

  ‘Yes,’ Nicole said quietly.

Waverly pushed her half-finished plate away, ‘You should go to your camp on the way and see if anything can be salvaged.  You could replace some items in the village,’

  ‘I have no coin with which to purchase anything,’

Waverly had obviously considered that because she stood and moved to the corner of the room, ‘These should be a fair trade for anything you need,’

Nicole took the expertly woven baskets without argument, she knew there was no point.  She smiled her thanks, saying softly, ‘I can never repay your kindness,’

Waverly shooed her words away, ‘Just remember the woman who shared your life for a time and think of me fondly,’

Nicole’s eyes and voice were earnest as she replied, ‘I shall not forget you, not in a single day to follow,’

Waverly’s only response was a grateful, yet sad smile and Nicole wished she could banish the shadows from her eyes, but such a feat was beyond her, and she finished her breakfast in silence, noticing but not commenting on the fact that Waverly did not.

 

*

 

When you lived a life like Nicole and knew no other life besides, certain emotions were less commonplace than others.  A trapper and hunter, someone who’s very sustenance and even her bed relied on the whims of the world around her, disappointment was an emotion that could so easily overwhelm.  As a result, emotions such as anticipation or excitement were best left unfelt.  Too easy was it to lose a hard-tracked animal or to have a bed washed away in a sudden storm.  Better then to not get attached, to not anticipate or get excited about something that had yet to happen.  Disappointment could be avoided if expectations were few.  Such was the life she chose, the life she had always known.  Yet, in the past days, unavoidable emotions had elbowed their way in – first, a sense of belonging, of attachment to Waverly and her land.  And now, as she approached the blacksmith, a near overwhelming sense of excitement to see what the skilled hands had produced.  Although, in truth, her excitement was likely more in favour of the anticipated presentation of the gift to Waverly.  Thoughts beyond that presentation were kept at bay by her excitement – so perhaps such an emotion had timely benefits.

 

Mattie looked up as Nicole stepped beneath the forge and wiped her forearm across her brow, ‘I knew you’d be here sooner than you suggested,’

Nicole tried to appear nonchalant but the blacksmith was too smart for that and so she settled on, ‘Have I come too early for them?’

Mattie’s only response was to set two leather scabbards onto the anvil.  The handles protruding from the leather were of differing sizes but the same, expertly shaped antler. 

Nicole swallowed, suddenly nervous, ‘I … um … wasn’t expecting scabbards as well …’

  ‘No coin required – you have been good for that little one and I appreciate all you have done for her,’

Nicole’s eyebrows lifted almost to her hairline, ‘She was the one who saved my life,’

Mattie stared at her, eyes searching before she huffed a laugh and shook her head, ‘She has been down there on her own for too long,’

Nicole bowed her head, her heart heavy at the thought of leaving Waverly to her solitary life once more.  She lifted her head, suddenly needing the approval of the blacksmith – or perhaps her forgiveness, ‘I am to teach Chrissy how to shoot her mother’s bow – she asked after Waverly and I will contrive a chance meeting between them before I leave,’ she tried to smile, ‘Perhaps she will not be alone for much longer,’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Mattie sighed but her expression spoke of her experience within the village and its people.  Such thoughts drew her attention down a different path, ‘I have never heard anyone raise their voice to the Hardy boy before … I doubt he took it well,’ she smiled to herself as she lifted the smaller of the blades and handed it over. 

Nicole took it, sliding it reverently from its leather sheath.  The blade was beautiful.  Sharp and deadly, without doubt, but ornate in its lines.  Near the handle were three small, curving runes.  Nicole guessed that they were the blacksmith’s mark, and she couldn’t blame her for wanting to identify herself as the creator of such blades.  Such skill deserved her pride.  A glint of light called her attention, and she looked to where Mattie was holding the second, larger knife.  Identical in everything but size, it made her heart swell at the sight of it.  Her voice was barely a whisper, lowered by gratitude and reverence, ‘I cannot thank you enough for these,’

Mattie seemed not to hear her as they both sheathed the blades and she took the one from Nicole, closing her eyes and mumbling something under her breath as she pressed them to her chest.  Nicole had encountered many blacksmiths in her time and found them to be superstitious when it came to their work.  She respected their ways and the woman before her more than any other she had encountered.

  ‘She is not completely isolated from love, is she?' the blacksmith said softly as she opened her eyes and handed over the blades, ‘You think these a thank you, but they are a promise of your heart,’

Nicole stared at her, mouth falling open as her mind raced to find words, but her heart seemed to have struck her dumb.  With a nod of dismissal, Mattie turned and stoked her forge, staring into the glowing coals as Nicole gave her thoughtful words of thanks and then left.

 

Nicole’s legs carried her swiftly across the field and into the woods leading to Waverly’s.  Yet each step seemed to take an eternity as the blacksmith’s words curled around her heart to finally reveal the truth of it to her and with it, a desire – stronger than she had ever felt – to share that truth.  A truth she would share without fear of how it would be received.  For reasons she could not fathom, she had no fear of rejection.  Her mind, when it allowed moments to fleetingly think of something else, flickered with memories of Waverly’s reactions over the past days when they had spoken of her leaving.  Reactions that now spoke as clearly as anything else.  Reactions of regret and sadness – both from the woman and from the wolf. 

She exploded from the trees at the base of Waverly’s field and saw the woman herself exit Cara’s shelter.  Nicole slowed her hurried step and allowed the sun to play over her skin.  Her eyes lifted to the bright sky above as she felt a warmth flow through her that she had never felt before.  A sensation so similar to the way she had felt as a child with her mother’s arms around her that the vague familiarity brought a name for it.  A name mentioned briefly by the blacksmith and one that Nicole now embraced, opened herself to it and wrapped herself in all that it meant.  She looked around, at the field and the woods, at the house with its mended door and sturdy roof.  At the shelter for a horse with a name.  And she looked up at the expanse of sky over the world yet to be explored by her but easily forgotten as she imagined staying right here.  There was not a single step outside this world, beyond the woman before her, that she wished to explore.  For the greatest journey of all had surely already begun, if only just now being admitted to.

 

A pain, sharp as needles and hot like fire surged through her body, dropping her to her knees.  Her vision swam and her stomach lurched in angry swirls as her joints and muscles were seared by light and heat.  Her breath should have escaped in a cry of pain but the sound that escaped moments after was … impossible.

 

Waverly rounded the corner of the small home and instantly saw Nicole.  The tall woman was striding with purpose yet with a step that was light and relaxed.  Waverly was suddenly struck by how truly handsome the redhead was, and her stomach gave flight to a thousand butterflies.  And then she saw it.  A change in the woman before her, a shift in her eyes that spoke of a deeper truth finally acknowledged.  Waverly’s heart felt the warmth of it and instantly was flooded by the same, suddenly ready to offer it by return.  Her eyes instantly started to sting with the promise of an end to her isolation. 

Suddenly, with a cry, Nicole dropped to her knees and Waverly rushed forward at the sight of her pain.  Moments later, she froze and stumbled backwards as a hawk lifted into the sky with a screech of disbelief.

Chapter 6

The sky above was too cheerful, too blue.  The sun too bright yet not warm enough to cool the chill that had settled deep into her bones.  Waverly sat, where her stumble had dropped her, knees pulled tight to her chest.  Her pale features were blank, expressionless, but for her eyes that danced and flickered as her breath came in short, snapped gasps.  Her chest felt as if it had been ripped open and filled with sharp rocks.  Her head thumped like a storm, the thunder the blood rushing in her ears and the lightning the flickering of light across her shifting eyes.  She was trapped in immobility.  Imprisoned by both emotion and memory.  The feelings that coursed through her, so like those felt after her father’s departure, that she half expected to feel the blood trickling from her split ear.  With emotions so similar, she had been sucked right back to that room and Champ, reliving the dark past as her mind’s eye overlayed the sight of Nicole falling to her knees.  It left her feeling as if her heart had been split in two – just as it once had to hear in one breath that her father had left and in the next, details of the debt he had left her with.  She became lost within the rubble of her hope, smashed to pieces once more by cruel spite.  Only this time she had no doubt where the blow had come from.  Only that knowledge made the hurt so much worse, because it meant just one thing – she was to blame.

 

The sun’s poor warmth was momentarily cooled as a shadow circled her, growing as the bird descended, swooping low enough to be caught on the edge of Waverly’s vision just before it landed with short, awkward hops.  Fine wings were stretched wide and flapped to keep its balance as it bounced until sharp, keen eyes fixed Waverly in their focus.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ the words came as a mumbled whisper, but they marked the opening of the gates to her emotions, and she was struck immobile no longer.  Arms uncurled from her legs to beat fists against the ground at her sides.  Her voice lost meaning as she sobbed, tears streaking down her face as guilt and despair smothered her in its embrace.  Such tears had not lined her cheeks since her sister had died – then they had been pure and raw with the pain of loss.  She had cried after the incident with Champ – but those tears had been angry and fearful.  Now all those emotions and more coursed through her and she was lost to them, blinded and deafened to everything but her own keening sobs and the undeniable truth that she wished she could erase from her thoughts.  She cried for Nicole – for the hawk before her and the certain knowledge that beneath the sun’s light she would remain in such form.  The woman who had dared to enter Waverly’s heart would be cursed until the sunlight died and night claimed the land.  Hawk would become woman once more, when the heart she had barely claimed became the heart of a wolf.  And it was Waverly’s fault.  It was all the consequence of her selfish actions.  Waverly had dared to let herself feel her love returned and the punishment had come swiftly, tearing through the fragile beginnings and leaving her forever ignorant of what such love could become. 

Greif closed the world around her as she beat her fists at the unforgiving ground and then at her hollow, emptied chest.  The hawk’s screeching grew louder but Waverly didn’t hear it.  Nor could she see the frantic flapping of the hawk’s wings.  A sharp peck at her knee that drew a pin prick of blood made her yelp and swipe unthinkingly at the bird that hopped out of reach and lifted easily into the air.  Waverly stared up at the bird is it circled and then settled on the grass in front of her once more, sharp eyes studying Waverly as she swiped at her face.

  ‘That stung!’ Waverly snapped as her tear dampened palm smeared her knee pink when she rubbed at the tiny wound.  She heaved a breath and stared at the hawk who was watching her, unrepentant it seemed now that Waverly had calmed a little.   Another breath saw her lift to her feet and walk back towards her home where she sat on the step and watched the hawk soar in circles above, screeching in sharp retorts, as if commanding the very sun to set.  Waverly imagined she could hear the same hurt she had heard in her own sobs in those haunting calls that sent all other birds from the sky above. 

Time passed and it was anger she started to hear – or perhaps it was an echo of the dark tendrils that were starting to weave through her, spearing out from her aching heart in search of sorrow on which to feed upon.  Quickly – those tendrils gorged themselves and she felt herself starting to tremble with rage until finally it exploded from her in a torrent of words, ‘How dare he!  The selfish, spiteful little man that he is!  Running to his pet witch just because … because … argh!  I hate him!  I hate the bones of him!’

A soft, keening screech preceded a shadow that circled and then settled on the corner of the horse’s shelter.  Waverly had jumped to her feet and was pacing back and forth, hands clenching and unclenching by her sides.  She paused briefly to study the hawk but could not stand still when her words burned her throat with their expulsion.

  ‘He is worse than my father!  At least when my father hurt us it was his own fist or belt to do the deed …’

The hawk shifted, talons digging into the soft roof and tearing at the material.

  ‘… But him!  Champ Hardy!  He is barely a man!  He is just a boy!’ her pacing took her around the corner of the shelter and down the field.  ‘He is a spoilt little boy!  Selfish and cruel!  I hate him and all he has done!’  She stopped pacing, eyes fixed on something on the ground before her.  She approached and dropped to one knee, shaking fingers reaching out to move the pile of clothes aside and then stoke reverently down the leather scabbard.  She lifted it, her other hand pulling the blade from its sheath.  Instantly, she could see herself reflected in the metal and her will along its wicked edge.  ‘He deserves to be punished,’ she whispered and saw the agreement in the eyes upon the blade.  She stood, sheathing the knife and clenching it in firm fist as her eyes lifted to the woods and the village beyond.  ‘He deserves to pay for all that his selfish desires have wrought,’

She had made barely three steps when the hawk swooped down and across her path with a hoarsely screamed ‘… kee-eeeee-ar …’

Waverly rocked back on her heels and watched the bird as it flew back and forth, over and over to block her path.  The message made clear, Waverly nodded, ‘Of course – yes, you are right!  I should wait until nightfall and show Champ Hardy the teeth of my vengeance!’

The hawk swooped at her again as she turned to head back to the house, ‘… kee-eeeee-ar … kee-eeeee-ar …’

  ‘Be patient for night,’ she told the bird, ‘It will come soon enough and as you return to who you should be, I will become the instrument of our retribution,’

The hawk continued to screech but Waverly barely heard it as her mind settled to a dark path once the sun set.

 

*

 

Waverly had never wished for the sunset.  Had never imagined that she would ever desire the long shadows of dusk and the night close on its heels.  But she did.  She waited without an ounce of patience through what remained of the day.  She watched the light and shadows move across the floor of the home she had known her entire life.  Familiarity with the movement of light doing nothing to help with the creeping passage of time.  She paced.  She cursed.  She threw herself onto her bed and forced the tears to stay glinting only on her eyelashes.  She swallowed her rage as best she could with silent promise of the feast she would give it when her form changed to the beast He had made her. 

Through it all, the hawk sat on the ledge of the opening in the side wall.  Watching, ruffling feathers when Waverly’s emotions threatened to overwhelm her, keening softly when they did and seeming frustrated by the inability to do anything about it.  The hawk perched and watched, soft noises and scratching of talons the only sounds to join Waverly’s mumbled words of barely contained rage and fury.

 

Waverly was standing when the light reached its last few moments, head tilted to the roof, breathing steady and even as she welcomed – for the first time ever – what was to happen.  A tingling played along her extremities as purplish light danced in front of her eyes.  She knew not if anyone else would see it or whether it was just for her in transition, but she was suddenly surrounded by a ball of light, too bright to not close her eyes to.  

And when she opened them her chest expanded with full breaths that sent power through every fibre of her being, to muscles and sinew that constricted and responded with near eager delight.  As the wolf, she had human awareness, but her response to the world was more instinctual than thoughtful.  Usually, the human inside curtailed those instincts, but they still impacted on her thoughts and actions.  Tonight, she could feel the pull of the animal inside and she embraced it with a growl and baring of teeth.  Her anger left no room for human thought as she let the instincts of the wolf flow through her.

She padded to the window, weight shifting to her hind legs, readying herself to leap for the opening.  A pause as her humanity briefly rose inside, seeking an answer to a simple question.  She found the answer in the resolve of her heart turned cold as stone and leapt for the window, already picturing the path through the woods that would take her to the village and her plan to find Hardy’s scent and wait for the opportunity that would surely come.  She cleared the opening with practised ease, expectant of the ground that would welcome her paws. 

She was struck from the side, knocked clear of her intent and bundled across the grass.  Instinct had her snapping her jaws and she tasted iron – only enough to have been born from a small wound, nothing more, but the taste no less was hot on her tongue.  The body that had hit her rolled over her, pinning her down and twisting her legs uncomfortably beneath.  She snapped and growled, yet the feel of naked skin against her back instinctively kept her from causing serious damage.

  ‘Waverly, stop!  I cannot let you do this!’

 

At some point Nicole grasped the reality that she was laying, naked, across the back of a rather large and angry wolf and, in a moment of clarity, decided that this was possibly the stupidest thing she had ever done in her life.  But then a scent drifted up from the thick fur beneath and she found her resolve in the herby, floral smell that was all Waverly.  She had noticed the woman’s scent days ago, even before she had known the truth of her predicament.  As a wolf, the scent was even stronger, and she used it now to settle her resolve.

  ‘Waverly …’ she said, calmer than a naked woman on the back of a prone wolf should ever sound, ‘… Waves … please just stop and listen to me,’

The wolf calmed a little, but the rough breath was sign enough that she was displeased and the anger still burned within her heart.  

Nicole rested her head between the wolf’s shoulders and loosened her grip, ‘If you do this, I will lose you …’

A rumble echoed from the wolf, the meaning as clear as if she had spoken.

Nicole rocked her head without lifting it as she replied, ‘I haven’t, I haven’t,’

It was perhaps the feel of tears sliding through her fur that had Waverly whining softly and lifting to unfurl her legs.  Nicole slid from her and knelt as Waverly stood and turned, intelligent eyes searching in the early shadows of night.  Her gaze shifted to a wound at Nicole’s shoulder, and she stepped forward to lick gently, making the redhead wince and hiss through her teeth as the shallow furrows were gently cleaned.  Nicole swiped a palm across her eyes as the wolf stepped back and sat heavily, panting mist into the air.  She might have sat but her body rippled with energy and there was every chance she could bound away at any moment.

Nicole climbed to her feet, noticing the way the wolf studied her exposed form.  ‘I’m going to get a blanket … come inside with me?’

The wolf huffed a disagreement, thrumming with unspent energy, it perhaps wasn’t such a good idea for her to feel cooped up.

  ‘Can you at least stay so we can talk?’

The wolf’s eyes narrowed as a low rumble echoed from her throat.

  ‘Fine,’ Nicole replied simply, ‘then stay and listen … please,’

 

Nicole could have walked the short distance down the field to where her clothes had been left but that seemed a walk too far and the thought of dressing again in the middle of the field, no matter the time of day, was less than appealing.  Certainly, she was nervous to enter the house and leave the wolf outside, but if Waverly decided to follow through on her initial plan, there was nothing Nicole could do to stop her anyway.  She grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around herself, reminded briefly of that morning she had barged in to confront the beast she had expected to find inside.  Her heart fluttered at the memory, and she now realised herself foolish for not recognizing how her feelings for the young woman had been there right from the start. 

She shook herself and stepped out, relived to find the wolf pacing in circles, panted breath sending fragile clouds into the air.  ‘Thank you,’ she said, voice heavy with relief.

The wolf looked over her broad shoulder, intelligent eyes cold and calculating – clearly she had yet to fully relinquish the plan that had been broiling for hours.

  ‘You are not a murderer, Waves,’ Nicole began, hoping that the most honest and genuine of statements would be enough to at least give the wolf pause.  And although it might have, that pause also came with a baring of teeth that made her response quite clear.  ‘Really?’ Nicole sighed angrily and stepped closer, ‘Just because you have the tools to be a killer, that doesn’t mean that you are,’  A huffed growl echoed menacingly in the air but Nicole was far from bothered, ‘I know you’re angry, I am too …’ she paused to clear her throat and the soft tremble that had echoed alongside her words, ‘… Hardy is a bastard for what he’s done … or has had done … but I cannot let you hurt him,’

The wolf turned slowly, teeth still bared and eyes piercing.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that – I don’t give a damn fuck about him!’ Nicole responded defensively, ‘I’m thinking about you – which is more than you are right now!’  If the wolf could have shrugged, Nicole was pretty sure that she would have – but at least she had stayed and was apparently listening.  As she calmed, it brought an awareness of the cooling night air and her nakedness beneath the blanket.  ‘I’m just going to get my clothes,’ she announced and turned to head down the field.  The wolf walked beside her, showing her usual protectiveness even though they were alone.  Nicole bent to the pile and cursed when her the blanket slipped down her shoulders.  She grabbed the pile and shuffled the blanket back into place, glaring at the wolf who was panting – apparently with amusement. 

  ‘I’m going inside,’ she announced as she neared the corner of the house, ‘Stay with me?  … Please?’  She went inside first, dropped her clothes onto the table and then turned back towards the door.  The wolf was standing outside, eyes flicking between the opening and the woods at the bottom of the field.  Slowly, she backed away and walked around the corner of the house.  Nicole was quickly to the door, shouting, ‘Waves!  Don’t leave -! ’

A thump from behind made her spin round and she sagged with relief at the sight of the wolf padding across the room towards her.  Nicole watched her approach, smiling gratefully when a warm muzzle lifted her hand and her fingers slid over the soft fur of her head.

  ‘I’m going to get dressed,’ Nicole told her and waved towards the sleeping area, ‘Off you go,’

The wolf looked up at her with an expression that was all Waverly.

  ‘I don’t care,’ she responded to the look, ‘I saw you naked that first time, but I still avert my eyes every time you change back,’

Huffing, the wolf turned and moved to the bed, hopping onto it and making a point of circling several times until she lay with her back to Nicole.

Once dressed, Nicole moved to the bed and lay down beside the wolf who shuffled to give her room.  Nicole could feel the soft trembles of Waverly’s anger and stroked her fingers gently through her fur, hoping to help her find peace.  She wanted to talk some more but she was suddenly seized by an incredible weariness.  ‘I … I can’t keep …’ the yawn interrupted her words and did her best to finish them once her breath was her own again, ‘… my eyes … open,’  She rubbed her face with both hands but it did nothing to rouse her and she heard herself mumble, ‘Please … don’t leave me …’

 

*

 

 

  ‘Please … don’t leave me …’

It had been the tremor in Nicole’s voice more than the words that had stopped her.  A simple request, words trembling with fear at all that had happened and at what was to happen again come the morning.  Waverly had remembered how she had felt after returning to her true form that first time and such memories would not let her leave Nicole.  Neither the wolf nor the woman could deny the surge of protectiveness, stronger than she had ever felt before – the merging of love and a wolf’s instinct for a mate – that would keep her pressed to the sleeping woman’s side throughout the night.  And, for a time, it didn’t matter what they had lost, all that mattered was that Nicole was safe.

 

But waking alone in the bed rekindled the darker emotions from the day before and Waverly dressed quickly, shaking hands fumbling with the fastening of her blouse.  She slipped into her boots and all but ran for the door.  Barely noticing the coolness of early dawn, she shouted to the sky above, ‘You should not have asked me to stay!  You should not have stopped me!’ 

The hawk circled and glided easily to land on the corner of the horse shelter, beak clicking as she ruffled her feathers and stretched her red-hued wings.

Waverly had more to say but was suddenly struck dumb by the sight before her.  The previous day she had been so engulfed by her anger that she hadn’t fully appreciated the hawk’s magnificence.  She cleared her throat and managed to gasp, ‘You are … glorious …’

Another ruffling of feathers and a soft chirp as sharp eyes studied Waverly with an intensity that was so familiar.

Waverly stared at the hawk – at Nicole.  It was truly incredible.  She could see the bird before her, yet her heart saw deeper and the woman she loved looked back.  Was this what it was like for Nicole when she beheld the wolf?  She had certainly come to speak to her in the same way as she did when Waverly was in her normal form.  And in return, surely Waverly could do no less.

She walked towards the horse shelter, hearing Cara shuffling within and there was something about the familiarity, the normality of the sound that settled her.  Even so, there were words she still felt compelled to share.  ‘You shouldn’t have tackled me like that … I could have really hurt you,’ she looked down at her hands for a moment, ‘I would never have been able to live with myself if I had,’  A flap of feathers drew her attention and a soft string of peeps made her smile, ‘I know you would forgive me … but how would I forgive myself?’  Waverly asked and sighed at the intense look from the hawk, the meaning somehow as clear as if the bird could form words.  ‘I could have forgiven myself for hurting Hardy …’ she responded with conviction and maybe she even believed it – for a few moments anyway.  ‘Fine,’ she growled, ‘I guess you were right to stop me,’  The hawk’s reaction made her laugh as she mock glared at the bird, ‘Don’t you preen like that!  I said you were right – you don’t have to be obnoxious about it!’  A shake of the head and soft chuckle carried her around the building, ‘I’m going to say good morning to Cara – why don’t you go and catch yourself a mouse for breakfast?’

 

Waverly was sitting on the step and eating her own breakfast when the hawk landed and hopped in front of her, spreading wings to steady herself.  With feet and talons designed for perching, the hawk struggled on the soft grass.  Taking pity on her, Waverly stood and circled around the house to stand beside the large opening in the wall.  A chirp of gratitude and the hawk settled comfortably on the frame.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Waverly commented as she ate the last of her porridge and glanced down the field to the woodland that had been her target the night before.  She felt a strange ache in her stomach and a weariness in her muscles, a physical residue of all that had happened the day before.  Anger was an emotion that Waverly was familiar with but never had it consumed her so completely and now she was left feeling drained, as if she had given everything to her fury and – having received nothing by return – had no more to give.  It reminded her of the way, after Wynonna had died, she had cried until she had no more tears to shed and had fallen into an exhausted sleep that had lasted more than a day. 

Feeling that same way seemed to sap her strength even quicker.  She stayed outside as long as she could before saying apologetically,   ‘I think I’m going to get some rest …’

The hawk was still sitting on the frame when Waverly entered the house and shuffled wearily to the bed where she shed her skirt and blouse and slipped beneath the blankets.  The bed smelt of Nicole and she pulled the blanket as tight as she could, imagining the arms she had lost the chance to feel, fold around her.  Her eyes closed, sending silent tears rolling onto the slim pillow and Nicole’s fading presence.

 

*

 

She slept through most of the day and woke as the day almost reached its end.  Sitting up, she looked towards the opening and felt a sinking of her heart to not see the hawk.  Foolish – of course – had she expected Nicole to sit there all day?  Seeing no point in dressing and feeling adequately covered by her undergarments, she slipped from the bed and stretched.  The weariness had left her and gone too was the unpleasant ache in her muscles.  Even so, her heart still felt heavy and her chest hollow – grief and guilt still warring for the right of command over her emotions.

Needing something to do, she lifted the pile of clothes discarded that morning by the opening and carried them to the table.  When Nicole had dressed the previous night, she had done so hurriedly and left her outer jerkin on the table.  Waverly folded each item, intending to leave a tidy pile for Nicole to find once night fell.  She was about to unfurl the crumpled jerkin when the weight of it reminded her of the knife Nicole had collected from the blacksmith.  Carefully, she unfolded the material but paused, a soft gasp on her lips at the sight of the two knives – one larger, one smaller.  Crafted with true skill, they were identical in all aspects but size.  Yet these knives were more than just their function.  And they were more than just an intended gift.  It might not have been Nicole’s skilled hands that had crafted them, but she had made a request and the desire behind that shone through – a desire to reveal her affection for the woman who had saved her.  A woman who had edged her way into her isolated heart.  Nicole lived a life of solitude, one which mirrored Waverly’s life in all but the aspects of location and choice to do so.  Waverly’s isolation came through fear that someone would learn her secret.  Yet, when the redhead had discovered it, still she had remained, and her heart had apparently swelled with feelings for a woman cursed.  Waverly had seen it in Nicole’s eyes and stride as she had approached across the field that previous day and seeing the curse come upon her, she had grieved as much for the loss of that sudden love as for the guilt and fury at the selfishness that had taken it from her.  Now, as near disbelieving fingers glided slowly over the handle of the smallest blade, the intent behind their creation now clear, Waverly felt her heart warm a little.  ‘Oh, Nicole, did you truly care so much for me?’  

A tingling started along her arms and then, as the purplish light faded from the wolf’s eyes, an answer echoed softly in the space around her.

  ‘I still do …’

Chapter 7

  ‘I still do,’

 

Nicole watched the wolf turn in surprise at the unexpected response to her question, apparently having not noticed Nicole fly in through the large opening just before their change.  Steady on human feet once more, Nicole approached the table, unhindered by her nakedness.  Smiling, she ran her fingers along the handle just as Waverly had, ‘I had one made for you to remember me by when I left …’ she turned when she heard the wolf whine as if in pain and unable to hide it.  Nicole was quick to heal the sting of her words, ‘But I found my intent forever changed …’ a laugh, soft, disbelieving, a little scared, ‘… an intent that remains in my heart even after what has happened,’  She dropped to one knee and took the wolf’s head in both hands, resting her forehead against soft fur and closing her eyes, ‘To leave you would mean my heart would be forever split in two … I …’ she swallowed to remove the tremble from her voice so she could finish with conviction, ‘… love you,’

 

*

 

Waverly threw herself from the bed and the cooling warmth beside her.  She dressed as quickly as she could and, grabbing the smallest blade from the table, ran into the dawn’s early light to shout into the sky, ‘I love you!’ her hands held the sheathed blade to her chest, ‘And thank you!’

The hawk descended in large circles, screeching in delight at both Waverly’s words and the gentle laughter that followed.  Once the hawk had settled on the corner of the roof, Waverly looked up at her through tear-misted eyes.  She shook her head at the craziness of their situation but in that moment made the choice to not worry beyond that day.  Better to let events settle, even to let their anger fade so they could explore whatever this life could come to mean for them.  Because, after all that had happened, they now realised that the love remained, and they would refuse to let that be taken from them as well.

 

~*~

 

Days passed, allowing them to find reconciliation of darker emotions in the light cast by the other – in either of their forms. 

For Waverly, after so much time alone, to have faith that Nicole wished to stay was something she could hold onto.  She was alone no longer and whether the companionship was between woman and hawk or wolf and wonderful redhead, it still banished the shadows of loneliness that had clouded her days for so long.  Perhaps in time the limitations of what they had would start to have an effect but for now … well, now was now. 

And for Nicole, to find that she wanted to stay in one place, or rather with one person was a wonderful delight that went some way to counter the juxtaposition of her day and night forms.  After all, even as the hawk she could still see and hear Waverly and was warmed by her presence, whether woman or wolf.  And yes, perhaps in time she would find herself wanting what she could not have but … today was today. 

And with each day, and each night, they sought out the distraction of purpose.  As well as returning to her skills as a basket weaver, Waverly constructed perches for Nicole and set them around the field and two inside her small home, these within easy reach of the window that would stay open during the day.  With the promise of a change of season just over the horizon, Nicole spent her nights weaving too and created a covering for the larger opening that would swing upwards when pushed from either side.  Heavy enough to reduce the draught but still no match for a leaping wolf. 

And with tasks to occupy mind and hand, they settled to the rhythm of the day and night. 

When the light faded and the hawk swooped to the open window to hop inside, Waverly was by her bed, folding her clothes onto the chair beside it.  After all that had happened and all already seen, being coy about their nakedness seemed pointless.  And so, the wolf would brush thick fur along naked leg and perhaps admire the lithe form as Nicole moved to her pile of clothes.  By the time Nicole had dressed, the wolf had leapt through the covered opening and would meet her at the door. 

With no more jobs to be done around Waverly’s home, they had found a new purpose that saw them head into the woods.  Nicole’s eyes were keen beneath moonlight, but she still trusted in the wolf’s eyes to lead her.  They scoured the woods around them, the wolf seeking out Champ’s traps so Nicole could rip them from the ground.  Each one as poorly designed and set as the others she had come across – seemingly a lifetime ago.  Many of the traps were old and had been unchecked for weeks or even months.  Dismantling the traps went a long way to feeding any residual anger and perhaps the satisfaction in their pursuit would even see it fade completely.  The broken bounty was left on the wider track at the edge of Waverly’s field, far enough away to be out of sight until they decided what to do with it all.  Nicole was more than willing to deliver the useless pieces back to Hardy, but Waverly was still wary of the village and its people.  They spared no more than a few words on it, for to do so was to invite Champ Hardy into their thoughts and neither were keen to do that.  They might have settled to the life cast upon them, but their acceptance needed time, there was no room for anyone else to stir the waters they were trying to calm.

Each night, after adding to the growing pile of broken traps, the wolf and the woman would walk back down the field, the wolf carrying whatever prey had crossed her path.  Waverly would have prepared a meal for Nicole during the day, and they would sit and eat together at the front of the house.  After, they would spend time in front of the fire, leaning against each other and settling to the crackling dance of the flames. 

Then, as Nicole grew tired, the wolf would grow restless.  So, one to bed and one to the night until the approaching light of the day brought them back together.  By then Nicole would be standing, naked, by the window to welcome the leaping wolf home.  Moments later, the hawk would peep softly as it flew up to the window ledge to stay and watch as Waverly slipped between warm sheets.  It would never take long until Waverly breathed softly in sleep, but the hawk never left until she did. 

And often, when their forms allowed, each took time to remind the other of their love.  Soft words spoken with near awe as they appreciated the beauty and wonder of the other and the shared gratitude for what they had.  An understanding that they welcomed what they had if the only option remaining was to have nothing at all.

 

*

 

Wavery felt sure that Nicole had developed an uncanny knack for knowing when she was ready to wake because whenever she opened her eyes and stretched, the hawk was always sitting on the window, watching with sharp eyes.  At first she had wondered if the hawk had stayed there the whole time but felt confident that Nicole would have lifted into the early morning light, returning in time to see Waverly wake. 

She stretched that morning and remembered how she had wanted to fight the pull of the night when she had first changed.  How she had tried to deny the hunger within and the drive to explore and hunt within her territory.  How her fear had kept her within the boundaries of her land for those first few weeks but eventually growing confidence and a need to not be contained had seen her expand the limits of her territory.  She had smelt other wolves in her extended area, but her presence must have been strange enough to force them away and their scents had faded to non-existence.  Nicole had not been privy to these battles, having only seen Waverly’s acceptance of the form forced upon her.  Had that in turn made it easier for Nicole?  Had she simply followed the example set by the wolf that shared her nights and found swift acceptance of the curse that stole her days?  Waverly hoped that it had.  If her resolved internal battles had made things easier for Nicole then she was beyond grateful and maybe she felt her guilt eased by the tiniest amount.

  ‘Good morning,’ she smiled as she stretched again, unconcerned by the way the blanket slipped to her waist, ‘Have you caught your breakfast yet?’

The hawk ruffled her feathers, talons clicking against the wood of the frame.

Waverly laughed, still in wonderment at the way they had found ways to understand each other.  She settled into an amused smile and told the hawk, ‘Go and eat – I’ll do the same before I head to the hazel patch.  Shall I see you there?’ 

A peep of agreement and the hawk hopped from the window ledge to the beat of almost silent wings lifting her into the air.  Waverly stared at the open window for a moment.  She was desperate to ask Nicole what it felt like to fly.  Was it as wonderous as it seemed?  Did she feel a freedom never felt before?  But she kept her questions mute because she feared the considerations that answers might bring.  If Nicole spoke of freedom above the trees, how long before she felt the need to go beyond the boundaries of the wood?  Waverly wondered how far she had already explored, and she worried about how much further the hawk would one day wish to go.  Would there be a time when she would tire of seeing the horizon in the distance and simply fly towards it, never to return?  Such thoughts always brought an unpleasant hollow feeling to her chest, one that she tried to ignore by getting dressed.  A futile attempt it seemed because the hollow sensation refused to leave and bothered her so much that she couldn’t face eating.  Instead, she slumped into the chair at the table, swamped by a sudden melancholy.  As she did, she spotted the two knives in the centre of the table and reached out to pull them closer.  They had been intended as a parting gift, yet they became a token of a gifted heart.  But even a gifted heart couldn’t change completely and Waverly felt sure that Nicole would one day feel the need to go beyond Waverly’s small world.  The curse might have trapped her here, but it was surely only temporary.  Nicole was born to travel and to explore – nothing could change that truth of her heart, not even the love for a woman and wolf.

Waverly suddenly came back to herself, pulled from her maudlin thoughts by a revelation as true and sharp as the blade whose handle she had unconsciously closed her fingers around.  A thought that quickly turned into the resolve to speak to Nicole about her concerns and beg the woman to let her know if such feelings ever came upon her.  Because, if they did, Waverly now knew beyond doubt that she would pack a bag and not look back as she followed the hawk to the horizon.

 

Committed to her intent, she hurried out into the morning sunlight, hand shielding her eyes to search the sky above.  She was about to call for Nicole when movement at the top end of her field pulled her attention and suddenly, like the snapping of a spiteful trap, her heart and stomach seemed to meet in the middle.  Even from this distance she knew who it was but even if she had been less sure, who else would ride a horse onto her land?  She crossed her arms over her chest and walked forwards, unwilling to let his presence anywhere near her home.  Hardy must have dismounted and then climbed back into the saddle because as he approached, Waverly could see that he was carrying several of the dismantled traps.  She felt a moment of satisfaction before the sight of the dark fury twisting his features into an even more unpleasant countenance, cooled her enjoyment.  She kept her own features bare as he neared, refusing to give him the satisfaction of any response.

  ‘How dare you!’ Hardy snarled in greeting as he yanked on the reins, making the horse whinny as it was pulled to a sharp halt, ‘My father – the Magistrate – shall hear of this!’ he threw the broken traps at her feet.  The twists of harsh rope and metal flicked towards her legs, forcing her to take a step backwards.  Hardy smiled nastily, apparently pleased by his aim.  His angry smile twisted into something more like a leer, ‘Although – perhaps you could convince me otherwise …’

Waverly uncrossed her arms, ‘Have the very depths of Hell frozen over?’                   

Hardy rocked back in the saddle, eyes confused, ‘What?’

  ‘After all you have done, do you truly believe yourself welcome here?’ she demanded, tasting bile as she fought to not let her fury loose on him. 

  ‘I thought you would have been pleased to see me,’ he laughed and leant forward in the saddle, eyes leering and malicious, ‘Now that you are alone once more, you must have taken time to reconsider my generous offer?’

Before she could respond a fast-moving shadow preceded a flash of brown and red.  Hardy’s scream was more like a squeal as he flapped his hands at the screeching bird that had flown directly at his face to tear bloody furrows down his cheek.  The horse reared in fright and Hardy toppled sideways to land heavily on the grass as the horse turned and bolted.  The hawk flew at him again, swooping in and out to pull at his hair and draw blood from the back of his hands as he tried to protect himself.  The bird’s screech was a furious, ear-splitting sound that rent the air and Waverly had to shout to be heard over the commotion. 

  ‘Nicole!  Stop!’

The bird fell silent instantly and lifted a few feet to circle higher.  Waverly held her arm out, calling the hawk to her for the first time and was somewhat surprised when the bird glided over to land on her forearm.  She felt the bird’s talons digging into her skin through the cloth of her dress but was quite appreciative of the sight that must have greeted Hardy as he lowered his arms.

  ‘Damn creature!’ he cried and then louder as he stumbled to his feet and withdrew a dagger from his belt, ‘I will cut its wings off!’

  ‘Take a step closer and she will have your eyes – I’m sure,’ Waverly told him, voice calm despite her racing heart.

Hardy stopped, eyes flicking crazily as he studied the bird while his mind tried to catch up with the connotations of what Waverly had said.  His features contorted in confusion, ‘That’s not possible!’  Confusion turned quickly to a sneer of derision, ‘You think you can trick me, eh?  You stupid whore!’

Waverly winced as talons tightened and the tips pierced her skin through the material of her sleeve.  Yet she was thankful for it – better her blood than more of Hardy’s.  Not that she didn’t still long to wreak bloody vengeance upon him – and his witch.  But now that her head was clearer, she was smart enough to know that whatever she did to seek justice for her and Nicole, it would come back a hundred-fold – on both of them.  Perhaps the hawk had realised that too because she stayed, piercing gaze stabbing into Hardy as surely as her talons had scoured his cheek.

Champ’s eyes flicked from the hawk to Waverly and his jaw moved strangely as he struggled to find words to accompany the thoughts that must have been bouncing around his thick head.  Quickly, as was the way of men like him, he settled on an easier solution.  ‘I came here to give you one more chance – but you …’ his eyes appraised her as if she were a slab of meat gone bad, ‘… you don’t deserve it!’

  ‘Neither of us deserved what you commanded done!’ Waverly shouted but calmed when the hawk became unsettled, extending wings and screeching loudly.  She whispered soothing words and stroked gentle fingertips across the hawk’s head. 

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he sneered with no attempt to cover the lie, ‘But you had better be careful of what you accuse me of.  After all, the people in the village have not forgotten the way you and your father cheated me.  Do you think they will take your word over mine?  Especially if they confronted you about it after the sun had set …’

  ‘Stay away from us and I will keep my accusations to myself,’ Waverly snarled and lifted her arm, encouraging the hawk to take flight. 

Champ squeaked and stumbled backwards, arms covering his face.  The hawk circled him and then flew up to rest on the edge of the roof.  Lowering his arms, he stared up at the bird, his mind obviously still racing to comprehend what he was seeing.  Gingerly, he pressed fingers to his bloodied cheek and fixed Waverly in a cold stare, ‘My father has signed many a declaration to have a dangerous creature hunted down and destroyed …’

Waverly’s eyes narrowed, ‘A father who favours a son such as you, is surely more dangerous than any wild animal,’

Hardy pointed a shaking finger at her, ‘Your lack of respect will see you come to harm one day!’ his eyes flicked nervously upwards when the hawk screeched in annoyance.

  ‘What more can you do to me?’ Waverly asked simply and added with a firmness born of the strength that was keeping her anger at bay, ‘You are not welcome here, nor will you ever be.  Leave us alone to the fate you decided for us,’

Another upward flick of his eyes accompanied a mumbled, ‘I didn’t decide that …’ before he looked around for his horse.  Realising that the animal was nowhere to be seen, he spun and stamped across the field, heading for the path back to the village.

  ‘Careful as you go!’ Wavery called after him, ‘We haven’t cleared that area of traps yet!’

A glare over his shoulder was made pointless by Waverly already turning her back to go into her home.

 

She paused in the cool shadow and inhaled a shaking breath.  A soft peep from the window made her turn, a weary smile pulling at her lips.    ‘I wonder if he will finally get the message,’ she commented, absently rubbing at her forearm and the beads of blood that had stained her sleeve.  Another soft peep, haunting and melancholy made her stop and wave the concern away, ‘It’s nothing – not your fault,’

The hawk shook herself and then lifted from the window, no doubt to watch and make sure that Hardy continued on his way.

Waverly took the opportunity to clean the tiny, bloodied holes and had wrapped some cloth around her forearm before Nicole returned to her perch at the open window.  Waverly didn’t really want to think about Hardy but she seemed to have little choice in where her thoughts took her or the desire to share them.  ‘I think he was surprised to see you …’ she said, adding, ‘And I don’t mean when you flew at his face like that – which was foolish!’

The hawk extended her wings as if in a shrug and then settled again with an exuberant shake and click of talons against the wood.

  ‘He thought you had left,’ Waverly said thoughtfully, ‘It doesn’t make sense,’  She fell silent, sighing at the futility of her tumbling thoughts and the annoyance of having no one to respond to them.

The hawk hopped from foot to foot, flapping beautiful wings and peeping as if to encourage her to continue.

Waverly gave a soft laugh, ‘Fine, I’ll keep talking …’ she sat back and crossed her arms, ‘… but it’s really hard when I am going to have to wait until nightfall to hear your response!’

The hawk’s sharp beak clicked as she tilted her head, eyes only for Waverly.

  ‘But you saw his reaction, right?  It wasn’t just that a hawk flying at his face that surprised him … he recognised you and he hadn’t expected to see you here …’

 

*

 

  ‘He did seem flustered to find me here as a hawk,’ Nicole announced with her first breath back in human form, ‘which, I agree, really doesn’t makes any sense … unless his pet-witch isn’t as house-trained as he thinks,’  She looked down at the wolf who was staring at her with a piercing look of displeasure – one that had returned to Waverly’s features several times during the past day.  Nicole sighed in guilty acknowledgement, ‘And yes, I know, I shouldn’t have gone at him like that,’ she lifted her eyes and the slight arch at the corners of her mouth belied the truth of her words, ‘It was rather satisfying though …’

The wolf growled her displeasure – or perhaps jealousy – at Nicole’s statement.

Nicole gasped suddenly as she remembered something and approached the wolf, dropping to one knee in front of her and demanding, ‘Show me!’

The wolf tilted her head.

  ‘Don’t act coy – show me your arm … leg …’

Huffing, the wolf’s rump hit the wooden floor so she could lift her foreleg.  Nicole took it and ran her fingers gently over the small round scabs almost hidden within hollows of fur.  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said guiltily.

The wolf shook herself and stood, padding over to the door and pawing at the wood.

Nicole knew what she was saying and shook her head, ‘Not tonight,’ she said quietly and took a breath, ‘You go and hunt … I’m going to stay here,’

The wolf returned to her, pushing her muzzle against her naked thigh and staring up at her with searching eyes.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Nicole told her with an unconvincing laugh and nodded towards the covered opening, ‘Go on – I’ll be here when you get back,’

The wolf seemed trapped between emotion and instinct and Nicole watched her shift her weight from front to back as she wrested with herself.

  ‘Waves,’ Nicole told her softly, ‘this is your time and …’ she shrugged, ‘… just because I want to stay here shouldn’t stop you.  But you be careful, okay?’

Frustrated by her inability to participate in the conversation, Waverly growled and walked slowly to the opening.  A last glance over her shoulder and then she leapt, disappearing from view in an instant.

 

*

 

The wolf didn’t return until long past the transference of one day to the next and leapt silently back through the window to the sound of soft, even breathing.  She padded to the bed and found Nicole laying along the furthest edge, leaving plenty of room for a wolf with a full belly and hunt-tired legs. 

It had felt like an age since she had last stepped beneath the trees on her own and, despite a slight sense of guilt, she had enjoyed the time to run and hunt.  After all, she had worked hard to find ways to embrace her time as a wolf and although she missed having Nicole by her side, the freedom to run and pounce through the trees was still one that she enjoyed.  And it was enjoyment she could allow herself because she knew Nicole would not begrudge her for it.  Admittedly, she couldn’t ignore the slight hurt felt when Nicole had sent her away.  But by same course, could Waverly really blame her?  Surely the redhead was tired and after what had happened with Hardy, perhaps some time spent alone with her thoughts wasn’t so much to ask and Waverly certainly wouldn’t begrudge her.  Such was the balance between them.  So much left unspoken, so much left to silent trust and understanding.  It made her wonder how different it would have been had the change not been forced upon Nicole? 

 

That question followed her into sleep and awoke with her come the morning.  She stretched and ran her hand over the cooling ghost beside her, enjoying the way Nicole’s smell lifted towards her searching senses.  She imagined that things would be quite different if she awoke each morning to Nicole lying beside her.  Imaginings that sent strange twists through her stomach that were far from unpleasant.  There was no doubt that a physical connection would have surely deepened the love they shared.  She paused.  Would their inability to have that physical connection eventually impact on the love that they refused to give up?  She prayed not and simply hoped that the affection which blossomed within her chest was strong enough to weather any battering storm that threatened it.  And pray too that Nicole’s heart was as resilient too.

And that brought her circling back round to the day before as she unconsciously stroked at the scabs that had formed on her forearm.  She hated the way Nicole had looked so guilty, after all, they were the tiniest of marks and she barely felt them now.  They wouldn’t even scar.  But Waverly had seen the damage that Nicole’s claws had done to Hardy’s cheek and even though she had been driven by anger, there was no doubt how damaging those talons could be – even unintentionally.  Waverly didn’t feel such fears as a wolf.  Certainly, she was deadly, but she was sure her fangs were easier to control than the hawk’s talons.  Deciding that it was probably an issue that Nicole would rather deal with on her own, she decided to let the thoughts go, focusing instead on getting dressed and considering what to have for breakfast.

As she approached the table she was to be proved right – Nicole had, indeed, dealt with the issue on her own and the solution made Waverly smile with such affection that she thought her heart might well explode.  They were the simplest of things but, as seemed to be Nicole’s way, they carried so much meaning.  Waverly lifted the bracer – a name deserved because that was surely the intent behind the layers of hide and pieces of old blanket sewn between them.  Waverly slipped the layers of material over her forearm, grinning like a child as she wrapped coils of leather chord to keep it secure and comfortable.  She lifted her arm, testing the weight and fit.  Finding it perfect – she hurried out, calling for Nicole even before she had passed the doorway.

The hawk swooped down, calling a greeting and gliding close enough to ruffle Waverly’s sleep-tousled hair.  Waverly felt no need for words and just held her arm out, revealing Nicole’s well-received efforts.  A joyful peep and the hawk swooped down to land with ease on Waverly’s now protected arm.

  ‘This is why you stayed home last night?’ Waverly asked, fascinated by the sight of talons digging into the leather hide but not penetrating.  The folds of blanket aided the fact she didn’t feel anything but the gentle weight of the bird.  ‘And you can sew?’ Waverly said in awe and then, after studying the haphazard stiches a little closer, chuckled, ‘Sort of …’

The hawk ruffled her wings as if in annoyance but stayed where she was and just studied Waverly with her pin-sharp eyes.

Waverly saw the question there and nodded, ‘I love it – thank you,’  She stroked the hawk’s head, ‘I guess this means you’re staying then?’

 

*

 

  ‘Of course I’m staying!’ Nicole told the wolf, voice lifted a little with hurt, ‘Did you really think otherwise?’

The wolf stared at her with a look of confusion for a moment before her memory tracked back to her comment made that morning and she huffed.

  ‘Is that an apology?’  A flick of a tongue across the back of her hand didn’t exactly clarify anything but that didn’t stop Nicole from responding with, ‘Okay – apology accepted,’  She grinned at the wolf’s inability to argue and started to dress.  ‘I know things are crazy but I’m not going anywhere, Waves, I love you and …’ she turned, ‘… you love me.  What else matters?’

 

*

 

Waverly awoke to the soft flap of wings and rolled over, words instantly to her lips, ‘Nothing …’ she smiled.

 

~*~

 

Nicole saw a settling in Waverly that warmed her greatly.  The smaller woman probably hadn’t even noticed it herself, but on occasions there had been a tension to her posture and a nervousness in her gaze.  Nicole would fly over and see her looking up at the hawk, sometimes in awe, mostly in love but on occasion a distant look would come across her as her thoughts seemed to pull her inwards.  And when Nicole changed back to herself, the words to ask never made it past the sting of them on her lips.  She knew that she would frustrate Waverly with a question she had no hope of answering until Nicole herself was no longer human.  And the thought of that kept her silent.  And in between such thoughtful pauses, Waverly seemed content to pass the day with the hawk and the night with the woman, so why question at all?  But then, after she had spent the night making the simple bracer, the question was nulled by Waverly’s settled emotions and Nicole was grateful even in her ignorance of whatever the cause had been.

Nicole had been right that Waverly had not been completely aware of her moments of distraction.  On many occasions she had stared up at the sky in wonderment.  Wonderment at the grace and beauty of the soaring hawk.  Wonderment too at the love that always flowed through her.  Without realising, consideration of Nicole’s imagined longing for freedom had fluttered around in the back of her mind long before she had allowed them conscious thought the morning Hardy had appeared.  His appearance distracting her from her intent to speak to Nicole.  But the next day, finding the bracer and then hearing Nicole’s words had settled those concerns.  Not because she believed that their future was now set and the two of them would remain here forever – but because she trusted in them both to follow where the future led them.  She knew in her heart that she could no more leave Nicole’s side then Nicole could leave hers.  And after undoing the belief that had been at the core of her solitary heart – that she was destined to live and die alone – she was keen to embrace a future unwritten.  After all, Nicole’s unexpected appearance had proved that fate had more cards for her to play.  And perhaps fate was not done with the deck of her life but rather that the cards would now be dealt as a pair.

 

*

 

Waverly slipped the bracer from her forearm and set it, almost reverently, beside the pair of sheathed knives on the table.  Behind her, Nicole’s clothes were piled neatly on the bed, and she turned to them, stripping and folding her own clothes onto the chair. 

Another day almost passed with another night to come.  Her fingers tingled with the ghost like desire to touch Nicole and feel her smooth skin against hers.  There was no melancholy to her thoughts, no longing or aching loss, just an acknowledgement of the desire that would go unfulfilled.  Yet she did not deny herself the sensation of it.  Every sensation was a gift, and she would not hide from any one of them since each only existed because Nicole was in her life.

The soft sound of wings drew her attention to the window and the purple edge to her vision.  She smiled at the hawk and whispered, ‘Love you,’ a moment before the wolf looked up and words drifted down to her,

  ‘Love you too,’

 

They headed into the woods, side by side, with an unhurried, pleasant stroll.  Nicole breathed in the cooling air beneath the trees, sensing the changing season on the breeze.  She had always felt the yearly changes at night, perhaps because her senses were keener at that time of day.  Although her senses were nothing compared to the wolf’s and that thought made her look down. 

She frowned at the empty space beside her and stopped, turning to chase the shadows with a gaze that made her feel practically blind after the sight afforded her during the day.  She tuned into her hearing instead and turned in a slow circle, trying to distinguish heavier sounds from the soft rustles of smaller nighttime creatures. 

She sensed the movement to her right before she heard or saw it.  With reactions too slow, she had no chance of moving out of the way of the swiftly leaping animal.  Heavy paws pressed against her chest and her stumble backwards quickly turned into a heavy landing on her ass.  The wolf had enough momentum to force Nicole onto her back and now stood, paws either side of the redhead’s chest, panting hot breath into her face.

  ‘Are you laughing at me?’ Nicole demanded as she slid her fingers through the thick fur and tried to move from under her.  The wolf dropped, using her weight on Nicole’s chest to keep her pinned down so she could lick back and forth across her face.  ‘Waverly!’ Nicole cried even as she laughed and tried to protect herself from the slobbering attentions.  ‘Wave – ooof!’  Her second cry was cut short by the wolf sitting heavily on her stomach and then she was gasping, ‘Waves – can’t breathe – off me!’

Huffing, the wolf leapt off.  Nicole sat up and used her sleeve to wipe her face.  She stayed sitting, half turned towards the panting wolf.  ‘You are laughing at me,’ she grumbled and climbed to her feet, brushing the woodland detritus of her jerkin and trousers.  ‘Why don’t you make yourself useful and go and see if Hardy has been stupid enough to set any more traps, huh?’  The wolf stayed where she was, intelligent eyes studying Nicole who waved down the path, ‘Go on – it’s not like I can sniff them out!’  The wolf stepped closer, teeth closing gently around Nicole’s hand and pulling her back towards the path.  ‘Yes, yes,’ she agreed, ‘I’ll stick to the path so you can come and find me,’  Apparently appeased, the wolf loped off along the path. 

The wolf trotted ahead, intermittently sniffing the air and the ground while Nicole followed.  The moon above the trees was bright, providing enough light to make it easy for her to follow.  Suddenly, finding a scent, the wolf cut sideways and disappeared into the denser woodland beyond the path.  Nicole approached the spot where the wolf had disappeared and stopped, waiting for her return.

Soon after, a scuff of paws on dried earth made her turn back the way she had come and watch as a dark shape slid from the shadows around it.

  ‘Did you find anything?’

The breeze shifted the leaves, briefly allowing a beam of moonlight that illuminated the creature as it slowly, menacingly, approached.  Instantly she saw the two, pure black ears and the cold, predatory eyes of a wild beast.

Nicole swallowed and took a slow step backwards.  Instantly she was reminded of the times she had seen a wolf with a white-tipped ear beneath these trees.  And now, perhaps with hindsight, she realised how different those encounters had been from the danger that confronted her at that moment.  Although, had the stream been between her and this wolf, she doubted that it would have done anything to save her.  She cursed internally.  Too many trips into the woods with Waverly by her side had made her arrogant of its dangers.  She should have made herself a bow and armed herself with arrows long before now.  Even so, her hand drifted to her belt and the handle of the blade – the only weapon she had upon her and one that seemed pathetic when the wolf before her curled its lips in growl and exposed wicked looking teeth.  The wolf edged closer, paws silent on the soft earth.  Nicole stood her ground, slowly slipping the knife from its sheath.  She knew the blade was sharp – but was she quick enough to strike a disabling blow?  The answer to that made her adjust her stance to one of readiness for escape, rather than fight.

A snarl from behind the wolf accompanied a flash of shadow that twisted around the beast, spinning it over and rolling it across the ground.  A flash of white-tipped ear made Nicole hesitate but common-sense powered her legs into a run for the nearest climbable tree.  She scaled the trunk with skill and strength born of necessity and, once high enough, wedged herself into the y of a branch, eyes searching the ground below from where the awful sounds of snarling and yelping echoed up to her.  It was only the twisting, rolling movement of the wolves that distinguished them from the shadows around them, but the aggression was so extreme that Nicole could not tell one from the other.  The sounds rent the air, tearing through the night and splitting the shadows with their violence. 

The woodland suddenly fell silent as one of the wolves was laid prone upon its back, the victor trapping the losers throat between powerful jaws.  An unnatural hush awaited the fatal bite and Nicole stared on, breath and heart frozen in the moment of unknowing.

The silence was broken by a low growl, threatening yet sounding strange for the way it emitted from between teeth that had yet to pierce the flesh seized between them.  The growl echoed for long seconds before the victor pulled back, weight shifted to her back legs, preparing to pounce should the male wolf decide not to take its chance for escape.  The male scrabbled to its feet, spinning in a swift circle to cower defensively.  The other wolf lifted her head and howled, a mournful sound that reverberated around the trees and sent the male scuttling into the shadows.

Nicole was quickly from the trees and crossing the distance to where Waverly was standing, staring after the other wolf.  Fur rippled in waves as the wolf shook and when Nicole dropped to her knees to run her fingers through the fur at her sides, they came away sticky and warm.

  ‘You’re hurt!’ she gasped, although she should not be surprised given the violence she had witnessed, ‘Let’s get you home and into the light …’ she stood but hovered bent over, ‘Should I carry you?’

The growl that answered her question was almost as terrifying as the one that had echoed while she had had the male’s neck between her teeth.  Her answer given, the wolf turned and limped back along the path, ears and nose alert in case the male wolf returned.  She truly didn’t expect it to, but she would not lower her defences until she was in her home once more and Nicole had secured the door and window coverings.

With the fire stoked and warming a pan of water, Nicole waved for the wolf to lie down and then moved to light as many lamps and candles as she could, brightening the room far more than usual with her need to tend to the wolf’s wounds, fearful of how they would affect the woman come the morning.  When she returned to where the wolf was lying she gently searched through the bloodied thick fur to find and clean several deep gouges on the wolf’s shoulder.

  ‘These will need dressing,’ she said, voice sharp with distress, ‘Perhaps I should go to the village and ask someone to visit at first light … Chrissy … or maybe the blacksmith?’

The wolf lifted her head and curled her lip, snarling in clear response.

  ‘Waverly …’ Nicole sighed with frustration and more than a little angst, ‘… I can’t do anything when it gets light …’  Another low growl made Waverly’s position quite clear and Nicole rested back on her calves, sliding fingers across the ruff at the back of Waverly’s neck, ‘You saved my life … again …’ she smiled, ‘Not that I mind if you want to make a habit of it, just …’ she leant forward and pressed her forehead to the top of the wolf’s head, ‘… don’t get hurt because of me,’

The wolf made a noise that was almost a purr and closed her eyes, head resting on her forepaws.

  ‘Okay,’ Nicole breathed, ‘we’ll stay here by the fire …’  When the wolf opened one eye to look at her with something that was clearly in disagreement, Nicole settled close to the wolf and whispered, ‘Never leaving your side, remember?’  Another soft purr and then the wolf’s breath evened out.  Lulled by the gentle rise and fall of the wolf’s body, Nicole was quick to follow her into sleep.

 

*

 

Waverly didn’t remember when she had moved to the bed and for the first time, she had no awareness of when the change had come upon her.  The day was overcast but Waverly had lived in this house her whole life and she had no problem recognising that it was almost half over. 

She awoke with a clear recollection of the night before and it kept her pressed to the bed as the sights, smells and tastes flooded through her.  Her breath caught in her throat as she replayed the way her body had reacted to the danger Nicole had clearly been.  But what stole her breath the most was realising that, for the first time ever, she had been grateful for the form forced upon her.  Waverly had scented the male as she had loped ahead of Nicole.  Instantly her human and wolf instincts had combined to send her circling round to get behind it, guessing that the male would focus on Nicole which would allow her the element of surprise.  It was far from a choice she wanted to make, but knowing that it was a male wolf, meant that she feared facing it head-on and had quickly sought the alternative.  It was only as they had fought that she had become aware of the male’s weakened, starved state that had inevitably contributed to her victory. 

Realising that she was putting off the inevitable, she forced the thoughts and memories aside and moved to sit up.

A soft peep from the window made her pause and smile, ‘Yes – I’ll be careful … but …’ she moved into a sitting position and rolled her neck, lifting her arm above her head and acknowledging the soft screech from the hawk.  She lowered her arm and sighed with satisfaction, reaching back with her other hand to press gently at the scabbed over wounds.  ‘It’s as I hoped …’ she told the hawk that had flown into the room to rest on the perch closest to the bed, ‘… look …’  She could feel the hawk’s intense stare as she explained, ‘I have been injured before as a wolf and I think … maybe … something happens when I change that somehow speeds up the healing …’ she rolled her shoulder, wincing and gasping at the sharp sting, ‘… it doesn’t heal completely but …’ her words were lost beneath a yawn and she had to finish after with, ‘… it helps,’

The hawk lifted from the perch and flew to settle briefly on the edge of the bed, peeping quickly before hopping off and gliding back to the perch.  Waverly looked sideways and smiled with gratitude at the sight of the bowl of bread and fruit that Nicole had prepared for her and set on a small table beside the bed, along with a mug and skin of water.

  ‘Thank you,’ Waverly told her as she lifted the plate and mug, drinking half the water and then devouring much of the food before tiredness consumed her once more.  ‘I can’t stay in bed all day,’ she announced as she finished the water and then topped up the mug, setting it and the plate back onto the table.  Even so, she settled back beneath the covers and let her eyes drift close.  ‘He was starving …’ she whispered as she felt the food settle in her stomach, adding to her drowsiness, ‘… I don’t think I could have … have …’  The soft flap of wings followed her back into sleep.

 

*

 

  ‘It’s just …’ Nicole spread her hands, awestruck and grateful in equal measure, ‘… incredible,’  The wolf shook herself but a stiffness to her movement was indication that the wound, although much improved, was still troubling her.  Nicole was kneeling before her and caught her gaze before asking, ‘Will you stay inside tonight, please?’  The wolf seemed displeased but didn’t move for the door in a show of disagreement.  ‘I know you’ve been sleeping all day … it’s just … what if he returns?  I can’t protect you like you can me,’ she smiled at that but there was no hiding the catch in her voice.

The wolf rested her large head on Nicole’s leg and dropped to the floor to make herself comfortable, eye lifted to stare into Nicole’s.

  ‘Thank you,’ Nicole responded with a relieved sigh as she made herself comfortable beside the wolf.

And what followed was one of the most relaxed, most wonderful nights of Nicole’s life.  And perhaps Waverly’s too.  The silence was comfortable for them both between the times when Nicole punctuated it with softly spoken tales of her nomadic childhood.  She didn’t actively choose the memories to share but just let them drift across her mind’s eye, the words quick to follow.  They lay together in front of the fire, bodies curled or stretched out as the mood took them.  She shared pleasant memories, painting a picture of a life so different form the sedentary one that Waverly had.  She laughed as she shared tales of her young foolishness, happy to make herself the fool and enjoying the pants of enjoyment from the wolf.  She spoke of her parents but not of their loss.  She spoke of her desire to be alone once she reached an age old enough to sense the differences between her and those she had moved around with.  And she spoke of the joy that the freedom of independence brought but how that joy paled under Waverly’s light.  Through words slurring with tiredness, she spoke of her love for the woman and the wolf and promised, as her eyes drifted shut, to stay true to her – as woman and hawk.

 

~*~

 

Neither had ever changed anywhere but inside or just outside Waverly’s home.  Yet tonight, they would so beneath the trees beyond Waverly’s usual territory.  It had been Waverly’s idea and, as a hawk, Nicole didn’t exactly have much option to argue.  But after hearing Waverly’s arguments and promises to be safe, the hawk had lifted into the air to circle overhead as Waverly prepared Cara to be ridden.

  ‘He will stay away from this path,’ Waverly said, not for the first time, as she had guided Cara along the track wide enough for the hawk to fly along beside her.  When the track narrowed, Waverly held her arm out and carried the hawk upon the bracer, more than able to ride the well-trained horse one handed.  

The track led towards the mountain and Waverly was riding along it because she was hoping that the starving male wolf had continued in the direction he had fled.  She had no way to be sure and could only hope that he would be the one to find the rabbit carcases that she intended to carry deep into the woods once it got dark.

As a wolf, Waverly had never travelled this far, and once changed, the scents that came to her were new enough to be disturbing.  Although one scent that drifted to her was more familiar yet no more welcome for that.  A smell that made her growl even though it had faded over time.  Hardy had been this way often but, even if it hadn’t been faded by age,  knowing the coward he was, she had no concern about meeting him beneath moonlight shadows.  Besides, the scent she was more interested in, one that came to her with a mixture of delight and concern, was the male wolf. 

  ‘Please – be careful,’ Nicole said as she reached for the bundle of clothes that had been strapped to the back of the saddle, ‘I mean … I understand why you didn’t finish him but …’ a sigh as she started to dress, ‘Let’s just be careful,’

The wolf growled, eyes narrowing.

  ‘Absolutely not,’ she announced firmly, ‘You can’t carry five rabbits, and I am not standing here holding the damned remainder and smelling like a meal!’

Huffing, the wolf grabbed two of the rabbits that she had set on the ground before heading down a narrower path that led through thinner trees at the edge of the wood.  Nicole followed, feeling exposed and vulnerable.  But she bit back her concern because she knew how important this was to Waverly.  The smaller woman had made it clear that did not see her sparing the male as a mercy – quite the opposite in fact.  ‘It may have been better to give him a swift end,’ she had said with self-consternation that she had managed to settle once she had the idea to hunt the rabbits and take them into the woods in the hope of finding the lone male.  Afterall, once he had fed, he would be strong enough to hunt once more.  And that was where Nicole’s concern truly laid.  Waverly had anticipated it and answered the question that couldn’t be voiced, ‘He won’t come back – I can smell how different my scent is, and it has kept others away, it will keep him away too,’

It had been hard to argue with Waverly – and not just because she was a hawk – but more that the level of confidence and determination in Waverly’s voice had allowed no dispute.  And so, Nicole followed the wolf into the trees to try and feed a lone male that would have no issue ripping her throat out, even in his weakened state.  ‘Oh, to be in love …’ she laughed disparagingly.

 

~*~

 

It had become impossible to count the days that passed, though neither of them gave that any consideration.  The only acknowledgement of time was a noticing of the approaching change of season and the need to start collecting and storing for the lean time to follow.  Waverly had always been able to store plenty but now there was another mouth to feed – which although more than capable of feeding herself during daylight hours, Nicole had come to crave the taste and textures of fruit and vegetables at night.  But with only the woodland and land around Waverly’s home able to provide such sustenance, it became necessary to start planting what they could from foraged roots and seeds. 

Nicole would not allow Waverly to do all the work and spent some of her day scouring the woodland to find wild fruit trees and promising looking patches of hedgerow before leading Waverly to them.  On clear nights she worked the land as best she could, never tiring of being impressed by the amount of work Waverly could complete on her own.  It made her realise that Waverly had been keeping herself alive far longer than she had been alone and could now understand why the smaller woman had, more than once, admitted to being grateful for her father’s abandonment of her. 

She never spoke of it, instead, she chose words about the village, quietly dropping hints that they should consider exploring the options provided by the nearby community.  Waverly would take her time in responding once returned to her true self, speaking of her concern about discovery and her decision to choose a little hunger over keeping her secret.  But Nicole could not shake the memory of how Chrissy had been so keen to hear that Waverly was doing okay, as well as her delight at the suggestion that a meeting could possibly be arranged.  Her planned day to tutor Chrissy in how to use her mother’s bow had long since passed and a twinge of guilt at her failure to follow through on her commitment niggled Nicole from time to time.  No matter that the cause of that failure was out of her control, she still felt the pull of an unfulfilled agreement.  She told Waverly as much but heard no words in response and let it pass, allowing the awkward spacing of their conversations to excuse anything not responded to as being simply forgotten.

 

Nicole had spoken of Chrissy again that night and wondered, as she climbed naked from the bed, if a response would be given this time.  She walked to the window and propped it open, considering that she would need to try and build something more suitable when a chilly draught instantly caressed her skin.  She turned to the bed and the wolf watching her with affection.  A smile – she always smiled as the tingling started along her limbs and her vision became edged with purple.  Not because she welcomed the change, far from it, but because she didn’t want to leave Waverly with anything else but a smile and a simply whispered, ‘Love you …’

The hawk flew up to the window, talons clicking on the wood as she turned to study the woman stretching out across the warm bed as her echoed words crossed the space between them.  She waited as she always did for Waverly’s eyes to drift shut before she lifted into the overcast sky in search of a breakfast befitting a bird of prey.

 

It was as she was circling back to await Waverly waking up that she caught sight of movement in the woodland at the bottom of the field.  Tucking her wings back, she flew as swift as an arrow, pulling up at the last moment to land on the window frame, ‘Kee-har!’

Waverly was pulled from sleep and groaned, hiding her face behind her hands as she mumbled, ‘Since when do you wake me up?’  Another shrieking call brought her fully awake since Nicole never woke her and to do so now meant that there was a good reason for it.  Waverly sat up and pulled on her clothes and boots, feeling as unsettled as the hawk appeared to be.  She was tying the bracer around her forearm as she approached the door and stepped outside to welcome the hawk to her arm.  The tap of a sharp beak against her wrist and then the hawk lifted in a strange flapping hover before landing again.  Waverly frowned at her but was attune enough to know that Nicole was trying to tell her something.  ‘Show me?’ she suggested.

A peep of distress lifted the bird into the air and around the side of the building and the horse barn.  Cara whinnied at the sound of the hawk’s distress, stamping her feet in a call for reassurance.

  ‘Hush, girl,’ Waverly called  as she rushed around, eyes on the hawk that was darting down the field towards the trees.  Waverly paused, realising that Nicole must have seen something to cause her some alarm.  A quick dart back inside to grab her blade meant that, once she returned to survey the field below, she could now see a solitary figure emerging from the trees.  The hawk circled over the figure before flying back to Waverly who lifted her arm to welcome her back and then continued on to meet their visitor.

 

  ‘It’s good to see you are well,’ Mattie called once she was close enough to be heard.  She continued onwards, closing the distance between them and then dropping a large pack at their feet.  Her eyes caught sight of the blade that Waverly held, and she curled an eyebrow, ‘Were you expecting someone else?’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting anyone,’ Waverly replied honestly.

Mattie’s eyes alighted on the hawk, eyes narrowing as she studied the bird and the lack of tether that would normally be looped around its leg.  She didn’t comment though and merely kicked at the pack she had brought, ‘I’ve come to trade – I have need of some baskets for winter storage,’

  ‘Oh?’ she queried, remembering that she had traded several baskets just the winter before.

Mattie was quick to read her expression and just as swift to respond, ‘Your baskets are the best in the area and the ones from last year are still as solid as the day you made them – your skill is not in question,’

Waverly flushed slightly and tucked her blade into her belt.

  ‘I traded my sweat for a surplus of fruit which requires storage for the winter,’ another nudge of the pack at her feet, ‘I have some good hides and plenty of leather chord to trade,’

Waverly glanced down but had something else in mind, ‘Will you trade some of the fruit once it’s been readied for storage?’

  ‘Are you struggling to store this year?’ Mattie asked, ‘I have never known you not be prepared – not even when your father drank away most of what you had,’  There was no actual surprise in her tone, more a searching query to answer a notion that she chose not to speak aloud.

  ‘It never hurts to be properly prepared, does it?’ Waverly countered.

  ‘No, it does not,’ Mattie replied slowly as her eyes drifted to the bird but, once again, didn’t comment.  ‘Very well,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘What trade do you offer?’

  ‘Like for like,’ Waverly told her, ‘For each two of mine, one returned with fruit,’

Mattie scratched her chin, ‘An expensive trade … why not three of yours with one returned?  After all, from two I will only keep one,’ another flick of eyes to the hawk and then the handmade bracer around her forearm.  ‘Three with one returned and I will speak to the tanner and get you a good trade on a far better bracer,’

The hawk peeped angrily, flapping her wings and stamping her feet.  Waverly hushed her with a gentle crooning and stroked her flicking head until she settled.  As she turned her attention back to the Mattie, she noticed the smallest of smiles pulling at the blacksmith’s lips.  ‘I am happy with this one,’ she responded to the suggestion, ‘but thank you,’

Mattie sighed but there was only good humour in her tone.

Waverly considered how hard the blacksmith worked and settled on a suggestion, ‘A basket for a basket but you can deliver me the fruit as it is now, and I will make it ready for winter,’

  ‘Perfect!’ Mattie beamed and clapped her hands, ‘I will bring it tomorrow.  Do you have enough containers?’

Waverly nodded.

  ‘A deal is struck then,’ the blacksmith announced and held out her hand, unconcerned that a hawk was sitting on the forearm of the hand she intended to grasp.

Waverly chuckled and gently jerked her arm, encouraging the hawk to take flight before she took Mattie’s hand.  The instant their hands touched, Mattie’s expression changed, her eyes narrowing as she gripped tightly and pulled the smaller woman closer, ‘I saw Hardy’s face, saw the damage done by a bird he claims to have destroyed but did not show any evidence of it,’

Waverly tried to pull her hand back but was no match for the blacksmith’s strength.

  ‘That very day, Hardy lifted his ban on hunting wolves in the woods.  And although no one seems brave enough to try, a wolf was heard the other night and Hardy has offered reward in return for a proof not asked for in generations,’

Waverly felt her blood run cold.  The proof that the blacksmith alluded to was the old custom of pinning a slaughtered wolf’s ears to a post at the entrance to the village. 

  ‘Time will pass, and such things will be forgotten …’ Mattie had still to let go of Waverly’s hand, despite the hawk circling overhead, screeching her displeasure, ‘… but you best be careful until it does,’

Waverly swallowed, caught by the force of the blacksmith’s dark, searching eyes.

Slowly, Mattie released her grip and reached towards Waverly’s waist to slip the blade from its sheath.  She held it up between them, running her fingers over the strange marks that had been set into the metal.  ‘My people believe in the power of things unseen by most and believed by even fewer,’  Her gaze was so intense that Waverly would not have been surprised to hear that that was how the runes had been etched into the metal.  ‘My people have those amongst them with such power, while there are others with the same who are directed by others, used as instruments for their selfish desires, ones made stronger by rejection,’ the blacksmith continued, her accent growing stronger as she spoke of her people, ‘These markings will give strength if struck with honest purpose,’ she handed the blade back, ‘Cold steel offers a solution to many a problem,’  A knowing nod and glance up at the circling hawk before she stooped to grab her pack and head back down the field.

 

Waverly stared after her long after she had disappeared beneath the trees, the hawk circling overhead as if to check she truly left.  Heaving a shaking breath, Waverly turned and headed back to her home.

The hawk flew in and settled on a perch, peeping in concern at the sight of Waverly sitting on the bed, staring at her hands.  The unsheathed blade was next to her.

It seemed an eternity before Waverly broke the silence, not lifting her head until after she had spoken, ‘I’m sorry …’

The hawk cocked her head, eyes flicking in a show of confusion.

  ‘You heard her … Mattie … she knows.  I think she’s always known,’ a sigh and shake of her head, ‘She recognised you – she knows who you are, and she knows who did this to us …’ her head dropped as she returned to staring at her hands.  ‘And …’ her voice was barely more than a whisper, ‘… she knows how to undo what has been done,’

The hawk spread her wings and peeped several times before settling again.

  ‘But I can’t do it!  Please!  Don’t ask me too!’ Waverly cried, grabbing the knife and thrusting it back into the sheath as the hawk screeched in agitation.  ‘Mattie said that the runes would aid a thrust made with honest purpose, but …’ her features twisted as if disgusted, ‘… there is no honesty in murder,’  She tossed the blade onto the floor as the hawk hopped from foot to foot, talons digging grooves into the perch as she flapped her wings and screeched.  Waverly looked up at the hawk with glinting eyes, ‘You were right to stop me that night I wanted to go after Hardy.  If I had – ’ she stopped and swallowed as if suddenly nauseous, ‘I wanted to excuse myself, to blame the wolf for the desire that almost took me from you but we both know that it was me who wanted him dead and me who wanted to chose the weapons of the beast to take revenge for what he did.  I am ashamed of myself and grateful for your forgiveness,’

The hawk settled, hunkering down and peeping soft chirps that made Waverly swipe at her eyes as she sensed the emotion in her frustrated attempts to communicate.

  ‘I know that I was the beast within the body of a wolf that night.  I know it now as surely as I know that you understand and will remember everything that I am saying,’  She stood and walked slowly to the bird who straightened and lifted her head to Waverly’s palm once presented.  ‘You forgave me my folly that night … I wonder if you will be able to forgive me this too?’ she sighed and let her fingers slide down the hawk’s folded wings and her breath trembled, ‘I cannot do it and I must beg you not to.  I would rather live as we are than have you returned soaked in blood – no matter how righteous it may seem,’  Her hand dropped to her side, ‘I’m sorry,’

As she turned, the hawk lifted from the perch and flew for the window.  Her haunting call echoed over and over above their home, filling the air with the sound of her distress and anger.  Waverly whimpered softly as she returned to the bed and dropped down onto it, bunching the covers against her face to muffle her sobs as she cried.

 

Later, having been silent for some time, the hawk flew to the windowsill and watched Waverly sleeping, having exhausted herself with tears.  The hawk glided across the room and settled on the bed post, leaning forward to drop a tiny white flower on the pillow beside Waverly’s head.  The pleasant garlic smell woke Waverly, and she bit her lip as she reached for the flower, eyes drifting up to the hawk, ‘The first breakfast you ever made me …’ she smiled, despite the redness of her eyes and the flush of her cheeks.  ‘Are you telling me that I have to eat something?’

The way the hawk tilted her head would have been enough of an answer but still she flew back across the room to perch on the back of a chair tucked under the table.

  ‘Very well – if it will keep you happy,’ Waverly grumbled with laughter in her voice.

 

*

 

  ‘Don’t even think about it!’ Nicole announced as she reached for her clothes.  The wolf abandoned the leap for the opening, her paws hitting the floor with a thump.  ‘And don’t look at me like that either.  You were right, I did hear what Mattie said … all of it and you are not going near those woods tonight,’

The wolf’s butt hit the floor, stubbornly refusing to move from the window.

  ‘You can sit there all night if you wish,’ Nicole told her as she dressed, ‘After all, you can hear me just fine from there, can’t you?’

The wolf huffed and lay down, resting her head on her forepaws.

Nicole sat on the bed to pull her boots on and then stood to retrieve the knife still laying on the floor.  She picked it up and held it against her chest, ‘You think I cannot forgive you?  Perhaps you’re right …’ she turned, ‘Because, Waves, there’s nothing to forgive!  I know you’re not a murderer!  Why do you think I stopped you that night?  I will not have our freedom from this curse come at the price of your soul … or mine!’ she moved to the wolf and knelt down beside her, ‘No one could blame us if we did, I know that too.  But I also know that I don’t care what anyone else thinks.  You are a good person, kind and honest.  I cannot, will not, lose you,’  She smiled and reached out to take the soft, white-tipped ear between her fingers, ‘And I think you’re right, Hardy didn’t wish this upon me as he did you.  Perhaps then the witch acted of her own volition, and it may prove to be her undoing.  Truthfully, I don’t care.  Let them do as they please – we are better than them and always will be,’

A soft whine brought the wolf to her feet, her body pressing to Nicole’s chest, head dipping to pull at her wrist with a gentle but insistent grip of teeth.  Chuckling, Nicole wrapped her arms around the wolf and held her close, burying her cheek in the musky fur.  ‘We will remain strong, together, while they weaken under the ugly weight of their wicked natures,’

 

*

 

Nicole awoke to soft fur beneath her outstretched arm.  She squeezed closer, enjoying the blissful moment of gentle peace.  It wasn’t long before the tingling along her arms sent her from the bed and to the window.  Waverly slept through her change and the hawk watched her for a time from the window ledge.

 

Suddenly, the early morning light disappeared, swallowed by the heavy weight of a blanket thrown over her.  She fell with it, landing on the ground just outside the window and trying to lift herself despite the weight covering her.  She screeched but the sound was muffled and made quieter still when she was rolled into the blanket and stuffed into a heavy sack.

Chapter 8

Notes:

Final chapter upload. Thank you for joining us. K&H

If it wasn’t Nicole’s absence that woke her then it was certainly the first thing she noticed and scrabbled out of bed even before her thoughts had fully coalesced.  She ran to the door, throwing it open and running into the air of a morning well begun.  Her eyes searched the clouded sky above before she called, ‘Nicole!  Where are you?’  She imagined the familiar shadow swooping low over the roof or perhaps a soft peep from the hawk as she perched on the corner of the shelter she had made.  She spun, saw nothing.  She ran around the building, eyes on the sky above the trees, desperate to see a single sight to ease her racing heart.  But only endless clouds and empty sky greeted her, and she sobbed, suddenly feeling so incredibly lost. 

She returned and dressed quickly while a voice, which sounded a lot like her father, sneered, ‘What did you think was going to happen?  You refused to break the curse!  She has gone to do it herself!  She lied to you last night!  She wants her freedom!’  She pulled her clothes on so violently that she felt several stiches pop but couldn’t stop herself, not when the voice continued, ‘And once she’s done what you were too cowardly to do – once she’s broken that curse you brought down on her – you will never see her again!’ 

She froze, head falling forward as she felt her body close in on itself.

  ‘Don’t listen to him …’

The voice drifted through her head, cutting across the voice of her father.  She knew that it was her imagination but still she looked up and whimpered to find Nicole not there.

    ‘Don’t you dare listen to him!  Don’t you dare!’

She swallowed and tried to nod but she could still hear the sneers of her father battering at her mind – just as they had every day of her life until he had left that night.

  ‘Waves – I would never leave your side – you know that!’

She straightened, hands clenching into fists by her sides as the truth surged through her, giving her the strength to force her father’s voice into silence.  ‘No ...’ she whispered, ‘… you wouldn’t,’

 

There was no way to describe the emotions that flowed through Waverly as she ran through the woods, tripping and almost falling more than once.  Blinded to everything else around her, she could see only the path that she had trodden since a child.  She had to stop when she reached the edge of the village.  This area was always quiet but not always void of people.  Thankfully it was today and, taking a moment more to steady her breathing, she jogged to the blacksmith’s forge.

 

Mattie looked up, hammer hovering at the peak of the arc she had been swinging.

  ‘He’s taken her hasn’t he?  He’s going to hurt her or …’ Waverly could barely say it, ‘… kill her … a-a-and it’s all my fault!’

Mattie lowered the hammer to set it on the anvil, ‘Whatever has happened – it is not your fault,’

  ‘It is!’ Waverly cried without a sense of self-pity and only guilt to carry her words across the small space, ‘I knew Hardy wanted me but I let myself fall in love with her … and I begged her forgiveness because I can’t do what you suggested,’

The blacksmith straightened, eyes flashing with disappointment before she sighed and pursed her lips, ‘And you begged her not to do it either …’

Waverly caught something in the woman’s tone which her swift mind quickly turned over and expelled as a confused accusation, ‘You wanted us to be the instrument of your will,’

Mattie waved her hand, ‘My goal to see the Stone Witch dead merely aligned with what you and Nicole deserve – I gave you the weapons to see it done and had thought that she had given you the cause when she stole Nicole from you,’

  ‘But you made those weapons before Nicole was cursed,’

  ‘I did,’

  ‘Then you knew what she would do?  What Hardy would command of her?’

  ‘I am no prophet of future events,’ Mattie replied yet lowered her gaze as if ashamed.

  ‘But you imagined such a possibility and you could have warned us!  Warned Nicole!’

Mattie’s dark eyes flicked back to Waverly, ‘Would she have believed me?  Would you?  Admittance of love was so fresh to her heart – would she have heeded words before that?’ she shook her head, eyes suddenly distant, ‘Like a thunderstorm of the heart, love can blind and deafen us to those that suggest we turn from it, no matter the threat that warn of,’  History played out across the blacksmith’s dark eyes, but Waverly had no time to hear the story shown there.

She lowered her own gaze, ‘You are right – we would not have listened … would not have believed Hardy of such selfishness, not even after what he did to me,’

Mattie considered her words, replying thoughtfully, ‘This all began with the selfish act of your father – and act that you are still paying the price for it,’

  ‘But why?’ Waverly cried, ‘Has Hardy not had his revenge?  His will saw me forced into a life of solitude long before Nicole arrived.  Why has he not long forgotten about me?’

  ‘His father,’ she replied matter-of-factly, ‘I am sure he would have heard about what happened and would not have been best pleased to hear that his youngest son was cheated like a common fool.  He would not have accepted it and probably never will until Hardy …’

  ‘Presents me as his bride?’ Waverly gasped, ‘That is crazy!’

More history played across those dark eyes as Mattie replied, ‘The Hardy family have been a curse on this land for generations, manipulative and cruel.  They live by their own rules and wreak havoc on any who they believe aggrieved them.  Champ might be a pathetic little man, but he has his father at his back and his ear,’

  ‘So why curse Nicole in such a way?  It makes no sense …’ she stopped, recalling Hardy’s last visit to her home and the conclusions that she and Nicole had half-drawn.

Mattie was quick to follow the train of thought that Waverly hadn’t considered since that day, ‘I agree – the Stone Witch played with him.  I suspect she has tired of being at his beck and call.  His father and grand-father had more respect – not that such evil deserves it,’

Waverly told herself that once this was over, she would return here to let Mattie speak of the history that burned behind her eyes.  But for now, she had but one single thought, ‘Did he take her to the witch then?  Is that where Nicole is?  I know where it is,’  She didn’t wait for an answer but just spun on her heel, only stopping when Mattie called her back.

  ‘Hardy is an idiot, but he knows better than to confront the Stone Witch within the boundary of her stones.  He will take Nicole some place where he can keep her contained come nightfall,’ she spread her hands, ‘But I don’t know where,’

Another flash of memory.  The faded yet still unpleasant scent of Hardy in the woods near the mountains.  ‘I do,’ she growled.

 

*

 

The sack bounced against the horse’s flank, the rider having no concern for the avian passenger.  By the time they reached their destination, the hawk was battered and exhausted, too disorientated to do anything but peck weakly at the thick leather gloves that fixed a short chord around one of her legs.  The chord was attached to a thin length of chain before her captor backed out of the cage and slammed the metal door shut, locking it with a large key.  The hawk screeched and flapped her wings against the floor, stumbling on weak legs and unbalanced by the weight of the chain.  She managed to half hop, half jump and lift high enough to perch on a strip of wood protruding from the side of the cage, the other end of the chain was fixed just below it.  The cage itself was not actually a cage at all, merely a line of metal bars stretching from floor to ceiling to cordon off the corner of the room.  The scratch marks at the wall and floor going someway to explain what it was used for – although, not for some time it seemed.

  ‘Get yourself comfy,’ Hardy laughed maliciously, an undercurrent of petulant anger in his voice, one that grew stronger as he added, ‘You should have left when I gave you the chance – or better yet, you should have died in the dirt where I left you, you damn cur,’

The hawk stared at him, beak and talons clicking.

He touched fingers to the healing wounds on his face, ‘I had planned to let you go once Waverly did the right thing and I will … I just think I’ll snap your wings first and let you loose in the woods,’ his eyes glinted as he warmed to the idea, ‘Yes – I’m sure you’ll make a nice meal for one of those beasts out there,’

He settled himself on a rotten looking chair, unconcerned by the layer of grime and mildew that covered it and scanned the room around him.  ‘This was my grandfather’s hunting lodge, my father used it when he lived in the village but …’ he shrugged and turned his attention to the cage, ‘The men used to capture a wolf and keep it in that cage until my grandfather or father were ready to hunt it,’ he waved lazily at the wall, ‘There’s a hatch at the bottom of the wall that would open to release it.  I used to stand by the side and watch as they pulled the hatch open.  The stupid beast would always run – thinking themselves free,’ he laughed, a sound as unpleasant as anything ever heard, ‘I always thought that my father had given them too long to run.  I would bounce from foot to foot, eager to get after it but my father was always so calm, so patient …’  His eyes narrowed, the humour turning to something else, ‘But his patience does not last forever, and he will tire of that little bitch refusing to honour the agreement her father struck!  He has been busy in town, but he will eventually remember, and he will not be pleased to find me without my promised bride,’  He stood and approached the cage, banging his hand against the metal and making the hawk flap her wings in angry agitation.  ‘She was almost mine!  She was tiring of her isolation … of being alone.  It was the perfect time to start rumours about a wolf in the woods, get people a little riled up and really turn the screw on that little whore,’

The hawk screeched, flying at the bars and then falling to the floor when the chain pulled her down.  She flapped back to the perch, piercing eyes drilling into Hardy as his face and tone turned venomous.

  ‘And then you showed up!  Fucking rolled into the village like … like … like whatever the fuck you are!  Destroying my traps and disrespecting me!’  His hand slammed against the bars again before he spun and returned to his chair, slumping heavily into it.  The wood creaked ominously but somehow held together.  He lifted a trembling hand and pointed at Nicole, ‘You should have taken the hint from the beating I gave you!’ 

The hawk screeched, talons digging into the wood and dropping splinters onto the floor.

  ‘You got yourself comfortable there, didn’t ya?  Took advantage of that pretty young thing,’ he shook his head, disgusted.  ‘Only problem is …’ he leant forward, hand slapping against his chest as he snarled, ‘She’s mine!’  He sat back, shaking his head, ‘You ruined everything, but it didn’t matter – in fact, I started to wonder if you would end up doing me a favour.  After all – Waverly would get used to not being alone and then, once you left, well, she’d be desperate to not be alone again, wouldn’t she?’  His tone became petulant again, ‘But that stupid hag messed it up, didn’t she?  I told her to get rid of you, to make you fly like a bird from my Waverly …’ his eyes were cold as he studied her, ‘… and look what she fucking did!  And even then you couldn’t fucking leave, could you?’  His anger got the better of him and he jumped to his feet, pacing around the small room, ‘I wish I had my crossbow on me that day!  I would have shot you out of the sky!’  He continued to pace, muttering about what he would have done and all the different ways her would have mounted the hawk or her wings on the wall of the tavern.  Eventually his anger started to fade, and he returned to the chair, smiling to himself with a childish shift of emotion.  ‘But if I had pinned your carcass above the tavern fireplace, you would have denied me a chance at Waverly ‘s heart but now, you are going to deliver it to me,’

The hawk became agitated again but remained on her perch, steely eyes stabbing across the space between them.

Hardy lifted a finger and pointed again but this time his hand was steady, ‘I saw her yesterday – that bitch from the forge.  I was going to give Waverly another chance … one last chance … but then I saw her on Waverly’s land, talking to my bitch and …’ the click of his fingers was a sharp retort in the small space, ‘… I remembered,’ he chuckled and slapped his hands onto his thighs, ‘Poor little Gretta – the twin who had her heart broken and threw herself into the river, never to be seen again. 

  ‘This was long before that whore’s father brokered the deal with me and its only rumour but … little Gretta had the love of her life stolen from her when his love was given to another,’  He leant back, stretching his legs out in front of him, ‘Thing is, my family know more than most and I know the truth of it.  The truth of a feud between the Purleys and our Witch … a feud that boiled within the witch until one day she came upon a lovestruck girl besotted by a handsome man devoted to another.  The witch took the love for Gretta from his heart and gave it to the girl.  The pair ran away together the next day and Gretta … well …’ he shrugged, ‘.. women are pathetic without a man, aren’t they?’  He waved his hand, laughing, ‘Flap and squawk all you like – she is going to do the same for me and give Waverly’s love for you, to me!  And when she does, as a wedding gift to my bride, I will set you free – as promised!’ 

 

*

 

Cara had picked up on Waverly’s need and the urgency was played out in every stride as they raced through the woods, only slowing when the path narrowed enough to require caution.  The area looked so different through human eyes – even though she had travelled this way a few times in the past – more recently it had been with the overlay of scents and sounds that had made everything appear so much more alive.  Despite that, she found her way to the area easily enough.  She tethered Cara close to a healthy growth of hawthorn and then headed off the path.

Through gaps in the trees, she could see the sky over the mountains, overcast and clouded, it made it difficult to tell the time of day, but she had little concern for that.  Only one thing mattered, and her resolve took her down a barely trodden path with a determined stride. 

She knew that the trees would thin out, only the hardiest among them clinging to life on the less fertile land spreading from the mountains, her hope was that that would make her search easier because surely a structure built by human hands would stand out amongst the trees and low bushes.  Hardy’s scent might have been an unpleasant incursion that night, but it connected with a remembered comment about the Hardy family having a small lodge somewhere near the mountains and all she could do now was pray that she was right. 

 

*

 

Hardy returned with a stack of wood that he dropped by the fire, mumbling something about it not being long until he had a wench to do all the shit work for him.  He stacked the fire and, after several attempts, managed to get it going before setting a pot of water to heat over the flames.  Returning to his seat, he looked over at the hawk who had been watching his every move.  ‘You think she’s going to come and rescue you, don’t you?’ he sneered and then snorted a laugh, ‘You really are a pathetic cur, aren’t you?  Did you get whipped so much as a pup that you will follow anyone that shows you a single ounce of kindness?’  He laughed loudly, enjoying his taunts as if they were the cleverest thing anyone had ever said, ‘Maybe that’s what attracted you to Waverly in the first place – a pathetic little mongrel falling in love with a wolf,’ he snorted again, ‘She is so far out of your station – as a wolf and as a human.  I mean, what are you?  A fucking filthy gypsy?  Huh – I’ll be doing everyone a favour when I leave you to be eaten alive in those woods out there,’

He had made himself a mug of something steaming and brought it back to his chair before he continued, ‘You really do think she’s going to try and find you, don’t you?’ he blew on his drink and then sipped it thoughtfully, ‘I guess she might, she’s probably that dumb.  Luckily it’s not her intelligence that I’m interested in,’

Having grown tired of his pathetic attempts to rile her, the hawk had fallen silent and just stared, piercing stare become more and more murderous.

Hardy either didn’t notice or don’t care because he continued with the same taunting tone, ‘Not that it matters – few people know that this place even exists and no one can find it unless I want them to,’ he smiled nastily, ‘The Stone Witch made sure of that the day it was built and her wards have protected it from prying eyes ever since.  You could look right at it and not see it!’ he laughed, ‘So if that stupid whore has come looking for you – she will walk right past and have no idea you are even here!’

 

*

 

Frustration beyond reckoning was all that Waverly found until, exhausted, she slumped at the base of one of the rare ancient oaks and stared sullenly at her hands in the dull light beneath its massive canopy.  Her shoulders lifted as her chest tightened around a sob, but it still escaped as a pathetic sounding whimper.  The sound, so small and insignificant, drew another and then another.  Each as seemingly pathetic as the last.  Yet they came, whimpers that became soft sobs that quicky turned into wrenching cries.  Her father had been right years ago when he had told her to stop crying over Wyonna, that she should get used to loss because they were a family underserving of love.

  ‘You think you’ve found someone one day and the sun will shine a little longer that day – but don’t you ever forget, night is always waiting to fall on this family.  We are cursed, you stupid girl!  Get used to!’

The words that had hit like hammer blows then, stung like barbed hooks now.  And then just as now, it didn’t matter that the true curse on their family had been him.  His voice was still the one she heard – Nicole’s had fallen silent beneath her distress.

  ‘I can’t find you,’ she whispered when her sobs baited her enough to let her draw a hiccupping breath, ‘and now … I think … I think …’  When the silence in her head offered no argument, the words slipped from her lips, I’ve lost you …’

 

*

 

Champ awoke with a start as the door to the lodge was frown open.  He half fell from the chair but managed to right himself and glare at the Stone Witch. 

But her anger was quicker to words, ‘Since when do you demand my presence?’

Whatever Hardy was going to say, it merged with new words in a stumbling response that attempted to match her irritation, ‘How dare you crash in – I demand you because – Goddamn you, woman – you surprised me!’

The Stone Witch tilted her head slightly, ‘Surprised you?  Ha!  Scared  you more like!’ she turned and slammed the door, turning back to tell him, ‘And no one – Gods or otherwise – can damn me,’

Hardy waved his hand, enraging her further.

  ‘Don’t you dismiss me my fury!  Tell me why you have summoned me!’

  ‘I summoned you because you belong to the Hardy name and I am a Hardy,’

She stepped closer, looking him up and down with open contempt, ‘Hardy or not, I will not be summoned like a common servant, boy,’

  ‘You will not speak to me like this!’ he cried, ‘I am the son of Magistrate Phillip Hardy and the grandson of Josiah Hardy!  I command the same respect as you have given them and all Hardy men!’

  ‘Respect?’ she laughed, ‘I suffered the whims of your forefathers because it suited me – they knew to respect me!’

  ‘You signed an oath in blood to the Hardy name to do as we commanded,’ he told her simply and was suddenly reminded of how he had come to this path, ‘Yet you are still to apologise for that!’ he pointed at the hawk.

The woman looked past his shoulder and smiled nastily, ‘I did as my blood oath decrees, did I not?’

  ‘I didn’t mean to turn her into an actual hawk!’ he cried impatiently, ‘I said I wanted her gotten rid of!’

  ‘Yet here she is even though a well-aimed bolt from your crossbow would see your will come to pass,’ she said simply, adding with a snide smile, ‘Not that a well-aimed bolt has ever left your crossbow,’

  ‘And just as well!’ he replied,  too hasty in response to notice the insult, ‘Were she dead I would not be able to take Waverly’s love for her, would I?’

The Stone Witch straightened, ‘You are to take the passion of the wolf-girl’s heart?’

  ‘Yes,’ Champ snapped, ‘I want it!’

  ‘And please do tell how you plan to take it,’ the woman laughed humourlessly.

Hardy seemed confused and responded with a frown, ‘Well – you will do it, obviously,’

  ‘Oh …’ she sighed, ‘I see!  It is not that you have suddenly found powers but that you are to demand mine, again,’

He stared at her, blinking stupidly.

The Stone Witch sighed, irritated by his witlessness but found other areas of concern, ‘And is it your intent that the object of your affections finds us here?’ she asked, cussing under her breath when Hardy looked at her blankly, ‘The girl – Waverly – she is sure to come here, is she not?  I have felt their connection through the magic at days beginning and days end – she will come looking for the keeper of her heart,’

  ‘And here she will find me!’ Hardy shouted triumphantly.

  ‘Do you think I merely snap my fingers and her love becomes yours?’ she cried.

  ‘I don’t know – how should I know?’ he replied sulkily, ‘All I care is that you get it done!’

  ‘What I must do will take more time than she will need to find us,’

  ‘But she won’t be able to find us, will she?’ Champ responded, adding snarkily, ‘Unless you have lost faith in the magic you set about this place so long ago,’

Her response was given through gritted teeth, ‘The magic keeps this place from unwanted sight …’ she glanced at the hawk, ‘… but her little bitch will have more with which to search with come nightfall, won’t she?’

Hardy curled an eyebrow and sneered, ‘Are your powers waning and you are suddenly unable to hide us from a dumb animal?  We are hidden from the woman, and you can hide us from the wolf!’

  ‘And if she stumbles into one of your pathetic traps out there?’ the witch queried.

Hardy snorted, ‘Just get on with it!’

  ‘Your demands are becoming tiresome,’ the Stone Witch said quietly, setting danger in her tone.

  ‘And your insolence will be your undoing,’

The witch rocked back as she laughed a high-pitched squeal of amusement, ‘Is that so?’

Hardy did not take her response kindly, ‘I am a Hardy – you will do as commanded by the name that owns you!’

  ‘I belong to Hardy men … you are barely one of those things,’

  ‘You insolent crone!’ Hardy squeaked and then began a tirade of insults that sent spittle flying from his lips and a deep red to his face.  The Stone Witch retaliated in kind, talking and then screaming over him, their fury turning the air thick with the thunder of disdain.  And like a storm, it rolled and rumbled around and around as, with neither willing to back down, they slung spiteful words to dig and stab at each other.  And with each verbal strike and counterblow, they were lost to the passing of time and merely fell deeper into the furious storm of their own creating.

 

*

 

  ‘Waverly … baby … look up …’

She had the sense that the words – existing only within her mind – had been trying to get themselves heard for some time.  And even now, once heard, they were ignored.

  ‘Waverly … baby … look up …’

She wanted to feel joy at hearing even just the imagining of Nicole’s voice, but her heart was too empty, too broken.  At some point she had convinced herself that Nicole was lost, that Hardy had surely, by now, taken her from Waverly once and for all.  He wouldn’t wait until nightfall when she would turn back and be in a position to fight him.  No – the bastard coward would end her life during the daylight hours when –

  ‘Waverly … baby … look up!’

Her eyes drifted upwards and her breath flooded into her chest in a rush of air that made her cough as she scrabbled to her feet to watch the sun dipping low over the horizon.

 

*

 

The cloud of purple faded from the edge of her vision and she heaved a breath into her lungs, stretching and cracking her neck as her body came back to her.  The sound of the chain clinking against the bars had drawn Champ’s attention and now he leered at her, open mouthed and eyes wide as his gaze explored her nakedness.

Unconcerned by his ogling, Nicole merely smiled at him and said, ‘You might want to turn your attention elsewhere,’

The man-boy and the witch looked at each other, the sounds of their argument still echoing in the air around them.  Eyes widened and faces paled as realisation hit and a moment later the door exploded inwards in a shower of splinters to the sound of a snarl that swept all other sounds aside. 

The wolf with the white-tipped ear paced forward, quickly the filling the space with her presence and the sound of a rumbling growl that echoed from her chest.  Her eyes flicked between Hardy and the Stone Witch – not deciding which one to attack, but rather, which one first?

Champ squealed in fright and grabbed the witch beside him, throwing her at the wolf and then sprinting for the door as the woman and animal crashed into each other to the sound of snarls and screamed cusses.  The wolf rolled out from under the fallen woman and spun for the broken door, eyes tracking Champ as he fled, her instincts demanding that she go after the fleeing prey.

  ‘Waverly!’

Nicole’s shout had the wolf springing sideways, narrowly avoiding the flash of steel that she had yet to fully register.  Spinning, the wolf bared her teeth at the Stone Witch who’s snarl back was just as animalistic, ‘Come and get my then – I will skin you alive and wear your fur!’

Nicole didn’t stop to watch the wolf and the witch circling each other, instead she dropped to the floor and aimed a hard kick at the wooden panel.  The wood was damp and rotting, unable to withstand a second and then third kick.  Once split apart, Nicole crawled out and ran in the direction she had seen Hardly flee.  Behind her the snarls and shouts of fury that rent the air were more horrific than any when Waverly had saved Nicole from the lone wolf – but still Nicole ran into the woods, guided by the sound of something heavy crashing blindly through the undergrowth.

Soon after, a wolf’s high-pitched howl pulled her up short and she spun, sprinting back to the lodge.  Her heart hammered against her chest, fear driving the air from her lungs.  She stumbled and tripped in her haste, not caring for the way the woods battered her – she cared only to return and find no truth to the dark imaginings that that howl had conjured in her mind.

Skidding to a half just inside the lodge, she thrust a hand over her nose and mouth at the smell of blood and recent death.  Movement behind her made her spin, fists raised to fight. 

 

Hardy heard the howl and grinned maliciously as he watched Nicole turn and sprint back to the lodge.  ‘Stupid bitches,’ he chuckled nastily and backed out of the bush he had dived into when he realised Nicole was coming after him.  He had hoped she would just run past but the sound of the wolf in pain was a much better outcome and one that he would enjoy for quite some time.  He started to circle back to the lodge, keeping his distance until he was sure the Stone Witch had bested the wolf.  It was a shame that he would have to give up the idea of presenting Waverly as his bride but at least presenting her corpse would go some way to appeasing his –

SNAP!

Hardy’s scream was long and high-pitched, his eyes bulging as he fell backwards, dragged down by the steel teeth that had clamped around his lower leg, breaking bone and piercing flesh.

 

  ‘Waverly …’ Nicole breathed and threw herself forwards, scooping the smaller woman into her arms and lifting her.  Their bodies pressed together as they both whimpered and sobbed with the sheer delight that would undo all that had come before.  Nicole lifted her head from where she had buried it against Waverly’s shoulder and just stared at her, daring with all her heart that her eyes were not deceiving her.

  ‘It’s me … I’m okay …’ Waverly told her with every word lifted in a laugh of joy.

Nicole bit her lip, moved beyond measure by the sound of Waverly’s voice heard with human ears once more.  That made her step back to hold the naked woman at arm’s length as she heaved a breath, releasing it as an awestruck sigh, ‘You truly are magnificent,’

The distance between them was too much and Waverly pulled her close again, burying her head against the redhead’s chest and sobbing as she listened to the steady thump of the heart that beat for her.

 

Cara greeted them with a snort and stamp of her feet, tossing her head and puffing breath into the cool night air.  Nicole patted her neck while Waverly grabbed a pack from the saddle and handed it over.  ‘Well, I’m dressed,’ she smiled and then untethered the horse while Nicole pulled on her clothes and boots.

  ‘Ready to go home?’ Waverly asked and hopped into the saddle, reaching down to help pull Nicole up behind her without waiting for the answer.

 

*

 

Hardy came back to consciousness with a gasp and then a cry.  He had been drifting in and out of darkness and now he quivered with disorientation.  The sound of a snapping twig had him spinning in that direction.  ‘Is someone there?  Oh God – help me, please!’  Able to see only a little in the shadows beneath the trees, he followed the sound of  movement as best he could, ‘Please – help me!’ 

His rapidly twisting head eventually returned to the front as the shadows moved and took shape. 

‘Well, fuck me,’ he snarled, pain forgotten for the moment as his petulant selfishness took over and he laughed, ‘I thought you would have killed the witch just so you and the cur could break the curse – huh – so pathetic aren’t you?’ he snorted again, ‘Fine – just howl for your bitch and she can get me out of this fucking thing,’

The breeze shifted the leaves, and a beam of moonlight illuminated the creature as it slowly, menacingly, approached.  Instantly Hardy saw the two, pure black ears and the cold, predatory eyes of a wild beast.

 

*

 

Nicole stood close by while Waverly settled Cara in her stall, neither wanted to be too far apart and likely wouldn’t wish to be for some time.  They walked towards the door of the house in silence but with smiles that spoke more than words ever could.  Waverly opened the door and then stepped aside to let Nicole step through, but she just stayed where she was, eyes on the smaller woman.

  ‘Don’t you want to come inside?’ Waverly asked softly, nervously.

  ‘I’ve never seen you like this beneath the moonlight,’ Nicole said by way of reply, ‘I want to stay out here and admire your beauty all night,’

Waverly dipped her head shyly and exhaled a breath before, with far less coyness, she took the redhead’s hand ‘I’ve got a far better idea,’

Chuckling with her own sudden nervousness, Nicole allowed herself to be pulled inside.

Notes:

Dear Readers
I needed to take a moment to tell you all how much I've appreciated your involvement in our story.
This was my first venture into creating anything, and because of you and all your comments and support is an experience I'll remember forever.
You had some of the best ideas, Dung Beatles would have been perfect poetic justice, and yes, Cara could have been so much more in so many fun ways.
Now that we're at the end, I can actually feel your presence with us, and it makes me giddy. Thank you all so very much.

Also, doing this with Kim was a gift. She has a talent for creating worlds out of smoke and brings us along with her. Sharing this time with Kim was more fun than puppies, and I adore her.

HopesLastChance