+3,136 OOC: Sorry this is my first post for SSWM. >> I wanted to do this in the 2011 SSWM, but I never got around to it. This takes place around the summer of 2010, when Alyssum is kicked out of her old pack. I thought it'd be cool to write in her point of view, and to speak in present tense.Was good practice for writing. EDIT: Also, instead of spamming the LASKY forum with numerous threads, I will continue writing about Alyssum's journey to 'Souls in a few posts at a time in this thread.
I hate the rabbits.
They always ran a little bit faster than me, only just a little. It is as if they teased me, their headquarters disappearing into the protecting growth when my jaws come a hair’s distance from them. I knew they were running for their lives, but it would not hurt for me to kill one of them, then I could prove that I was not useless. Mother keeps insisting I have nothing to prove to the clan, that I was just as equal as them. But I do not believe her, and she knows it. I know they do not like me, just because I look a little different—mother tells me it’s because her own mother looked wolfish, though she was born in the clan like everyone else, but they assume anyway—but I cannot help but think there was some other motive for their hateful glares they send in my direction whenever I pass them.
It has been another unsuccessful hunt, which does not help my mood at all. The rabbits were as elusive as ever, and I blame my bumbling, large paws for that. The stupid creatures were used to the smaller, leaner beasts, and after honing their senses for the stealthily pawed, they felt my heavy steps from yards away. I only put up this ruse for them, the clan.
I head into the undergrowth, where I quietly concentrate on something deep inside of me, the only thing that the clan could not really take away from me. They took away my books, my cloths, everything I managed to trade from merchants for measly squirrels and birds, because they say it starts ideas. Whatever that means, I do not understand, but I still trade when I can. Why should I listen to them, when they did nothing for me and mother? Even at this moment, I am breaking another law that would surely be punished by teeth to the throat. But, like always, I never get caught.
I felt the joints appear, almost like magic, as I grew in height, as I grew in spirits. I always feel better whenever I shift, partly from rebelling against the leadership, partly just living up the special feeling of walking on two legs. So far, I kept these daily shiftings to myself, I do not even tell mother, and I do this every time I go out to “hunting”. I go out to check the snares that none but I and mother know about, relishing the feeling of the grass over my two paws as my elongated fingers starts to stroke through my growing mane. I am thinking about cutting it, but then I decide against it, and now I plan for it to grow as long as it could—if the leaders ever see my long, beautiful, illegal mane, their fur may ever catch flame in rage, and this imaginary sight pleases me.
I check the snares, and we come out lucky today: three, pesky rabbits, fat with spoils for the coming winter. I reset the traps, my hands easily working them, though not as good as mother; it must have been because my father taught her directly, and she passed down what she knew as best as she could to me, after insistent begging. I think about the male who sired me as I shrink in size, my hands ruefully touching the ground as they slowly became paws once more. Mother often told tales of him, mainly on how charming and cunning he was, a gentleman of high stands sweeping the feet of a savage, for reasons unknown to all. I never think much of him, mainly because I never saw him; ever since the clan discovered mother’s pregnancy, he suddenly disappeared. The gentleman was probably told by the savage to never to return again, out for his own safety.
It is difficult to carry the prey home, but home they make it none the less. I drop my prize down for a moment as I approach a hole, letting out a yip, for a gentle bark to be returned back. I pick the rabbits up again, and enter the foxhole we call our den. But, it is the best we can do, the only thing livable that met the clan’s rules. “Oh my, Alyssum!” Mother comes out of her section of the den, her gold eyes that remind me of warm wheat burning with amazement at the plump rabbits. She inspects the limp prey quickly, in case they were sicken with disease or otherwise uneatable. But, they are fine, fine rabbits, and she says again, “Alyssum, this is absolutely wonderful. My flower, a better hunter than the whole clan put together.”
I do not know why she calls me “her flower”. I think this is because dad used the same nickname for her, and it was probably the reason why she named me after a flower, to let the memory of dad to live on in his daughter. I don’t like the name, for it makes me sound weaker than I am, but I don’t want to hurt mother’s feelings, for she’s too precious to do such when the clan is already against her for whatever reason. She tells me it is because she did things like I am doing now when she was younger, when the rules were less strict than now.
We divide the spoils between us, and I double check to make sure it is even. Not because I suspect her for taking too much food. But because I suspect her for not taking enough. She sometime thinks that I never get enough to eat, her poor flower, and tries to take not as much while acting nonchalant, but I see through her façade easily.
Our meal is accompanied with silence, which is unusual. Mother would be asking how the hunt for rabbit went, and though I always give her the same answer, she never fails to ask. But not now. And it worries me. “What’s wrong?” I finally ask, and watched her glance up from her meal, only to look back down at it just as quick.
“What’s wrong?” I repeated, this time probing her with a gaze. She’s biting her lip, the kind of face she makes when she is on the edge of making a decision, and I know her well enough that whatever she concluded to, she did not like it. She spoke anyway, her voice barely above a whisper, the mythical way she normally talks, as if she is speaking from a deep sleep. “I think it’s time I explain something…” she started off. I did not reply, and she knowingly took this as an invitation to continue.
“The clan, you must know by now, do not like us.” I cannot help but think of a big “duh”, yet my tongue concealed my thoughts. “They do not tell us why, and I have only been giving you half an explanation as to why this is. I have not been completely honest with you about many things, to be truthful.” Again, came no reply from me, but not for her to continue to speak, but for my mind to catch up with what left me short.
I think straight into one thought: she has been lying to me. I have not been completely honest with her either, like the secretive shifting and trading. But, I felt betrayed all of a sudden. We only had each other, and here she was, telling her only companion and blood that she had been holding information from me. If I spoke this aloud, she would have probably countered with “you are too young to understand” or “I did it for your own good”. This was her usual reply to everything that had an answer she did not want to say.
“Listen out, Aly,” she says quickly, it must have been obvious on my face that I was upset, “There’s many reasons, excuses, that I did not tell you everything. But now I’m telling them. Just listen.” It must it be something serious, for mother’s tone took on a cutting edge, warning me that her temper is starting to rise.
“The clan does not like hybrids,” she begins, “or creatures that are parts of different things that make something new. You’re a hybrid, Alyssum.” I feel stunned, but mother spares no time for my feelings. “Your father was a coywolf, a coyote and a wolf, and you are too. I met him when I was young, probably your age. Back then, we were both troublesome youngsters looking for fun. It was not surprising when we became old enough, he asked for my paw in mateship, we were so perfect for one another.” Despite feeling confuse, I could not help but admire the man I did not know. He made her happier than I could ever try, I can tell by the distant look that overcame mother whenever she spoke of him, like now. I wish I can meet him, even if I do not care much for him.
“It was not long after that when the clan pasted the law that restricted any of us from wondering outside of the territory, that we could not speak to others that were not our own. I still kept meeting your father, though.” Mother, the hopeless Juliet. “But, things got tense, and the leadership became suspicious of me. When I last saw your father, I told him to leave and never return. He was heartbroken. So was I.” She already I told this story to me, many times, of their ending of their romance, lacking the details that I am now hearing. Our coyote clan was unmerciful, and if he was caught near our territory, he would have probably been killed.
“The leadership soon found out I was pregnant. With their suspicions, they already knew that you weren’t the product of something from our clan, but from something foreign. They kept me alive, probably because to keep the clan in their favor. Killing a mother with unborn children would have shown badly upon them.” Mother is now silent, again trying to decide to continue, or to stop where she was.
“After you were born, a one-child litter, they demanded me your blood. They wanted to show the clan what would happen if they done what I did. But, I couldn’t…” she paused, taking a breath to steady herself, “I couldn’t let them. I couldn’t let them hurt my flower. I begged—begged for your life. It soon caused a scene, and they again let us slip for their reputation. And then they made us live…”
The rest of her words fall on deaf ears. How dare they?! How dare they make a mother beg, to lay at their feet, for them not to kill her sole newborn?
I jerk up from my sit, my meal only half eaten. “Mother! Why didn’t you stand up against them?! That is wrong, you shouldn’t have begged! You are too good for that!” I snarled, and now I grow, and start to pace around the small den. She uses another excuse, saying I could have been killed if she stood up against their words. But all I see is weakness; she was the girl that a gentleman fell for, she deserved nothing but to be treated like a queen, and she should act like one. But no, she is acting like the worm the pack wants her to think she is.
Mother is now choking on her words, her emotions twisting her tongue. I cut her off with another growl. “I don’t care what they think of me. If they hated me before I was even born, let them. I don’t care. I hate them too. All I care about is that they treated you like that. Like your life was nothing, and it still is to them.” I run out of the den, and I can hear my mother chasing after me. I don’t care, let her run. She won’t stop me.
I can feel the transformation starting, my legs becoming longer, stronger, faster. My body grows in size, and maybe because of the daily practice of shifting, or my own rage, I am in my secui form in less than five minutes. It’s a new record for me. I hear myself snarling like a bear, the voice of this form more wild than the others, and I can’t even recognize myself in it. But I don’t care; it’s the voice that will speak up to the leaders, once and for all.
The speed is incredible, and I reach the center of the clan in no time. Mother is somewhere behind me, still running after her flower. I call for the leadership with a ragged howl, and they know it is me. None of the coyotes had ever howled. It was against the law to howl like a wolf, to howl like a stranger. I am stranger to them, so I may as well act like one.
They soon come, and they are shocked to see my towering form. I am a mere eight moons old, but it my secui form, I am one of the tallest creatures there. I can see on their faces that they are terrified, to see my lips peel back over my teeth that craved for their blood. For their pain. But, I know better than to attack, since they would send after the whole clan to destroy me if I am one hostile step towards them. The other members of our large coyote pack also show up for the call, their curiosity leading them on to the scene. Though I would like it better privately, a public stand could perhaps make the clan see how they were led like a herd of senseless sheep.
“What do you think you are doing?!” the plump female practically shrieked at me, one of the four leaders. Her voice reminds me of a trapped bird, which makes me feel all the more powerful. “I am going to speak,” I half growl, half bark, answering the question that not only she, but the rest of the clan is asking. One of the leaders, the slim male, took a step forward, as if he dares to tell me that I have no right. I snarled at him to back off, my lips curling over my teeth. He obeys like a scared pup.
“I ask you, O virtuous leaders, why you stand above us, crowning yourselves kings and queens, when you are nothing but a flock of crows?” My words cut into the silence, and I give no time for them to reply. “You dare treat me and my mother like dirt, you dare treat the whole clan like soil beneath your paws. You dare to believe that all of you can kick us aside when your little hearts’ desire.” As I speak, I can see the whole clan is confused. They never gave the thought that they were treated poorly, that their freedom was held back by these crows.
“All of you perch on your thrones, scavengers for power, and you swoop down whenever you can make your presence remembered. At any cost. ” I now pause for my words to sink in. No one speaks, so I continue. “You would murder, shed blood, for us to remember that you pigs rule over us. You would kill a mother and her newborn as an example. Of course, unless she pleads like the sniveling coward you want her to be, you have the aloof grace to spare her life. As if you are supreme beings! I challenge not just you, but everyone, to see why we let ourselves be—“ My words are cut off, as a feel a sudden weight be thrown across me.
As I roll, I realize that the force was from the head leader of the council, the biggest of them. His stance is dominant, and I feel an urge to bow out of nature. But, snarl back at him, and I tackled him back, and we scuffle for a minute while the clan stares at us in amazement. I pin the male by his throat, my maw inches away from it. He’s whining like the pathetic thing he is, begging for his life. I snap down. I grab his muzzle while my paws release him, but I hold him in place for a second longer as I stare into his eyes, which gaze back, panicked. With a rippling snarl, I let go of him, and he retreats back into the circle of leaders, his tail between his legs.
I snap around the crowd, wanting anyone else to step up and try to bring me down. No one moves.
No one speaks.
After a moment of composer, the leaders are again calm and collected, though the lead male looks defeated. And then they speak, the slim male that stepped forward earlier being their voice. “Alyssum, because of your act of rebellion, treason against the leadership, and display of improvable information has lead us to—“ I cut him off with a sharp growl at their declare of giving improvable information, but he continued, his voice speaking higher over it, “lead us to decide your exile. You are not to return to this territory again. If any is to find you in or around our borders, we command any creature who hears this message to kill you on sight. Leave at once, and may the spirits have mercy on your damned soul.”
I spit in their direction in response. That earns me a few horrified gasps from the crowd. I start off, my shoulders still tense from the fight. I then see my mother pushing her way towards me through the coyotes, her golden eyes smoldering with the most intense sadness I have ever seen. I feel my heart fall to my paws, but I keep a straight face. “Oh, my flower,” she whispers when she reaches me, and she touches my shoulder with her nose, the only place where she can comfortably reach me. “Why…”
I hate the pain that I cause her, but I push away my feelings. “I did it because you are too perfect for them. Don’t let them push you around. Find dad. Tell him you love him. Leave here, and never come back,” I whisper back, my words unheard by none but her. The leaders command a few coyotes to pull me away from mother, and to escort me out, but I pull away before they could touch us. I run away, my paws flying over the ground. The farther I flew, the heavier my heart feels.
I didn't even say goodbye to her.
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