Little Wolf

Ch 12 An Invitation or Two

Chapter pic is how I picture Mac.
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Over the next week, I began to settle into a routine of sorts.

Derrick and I ran a few miles every morning. He never understood my penchant for running barefoot. After work, we'd tussle in the back yard occasionally. Derrick spent a few hours at the gym house every weeknight, often coming home so sore I wasn't sure how he would get through work the next day.

I only went twice a week for Ed to teach me about knife battles. I focused on my lessons and didn't do any other fighting. I often went home with shallow lacerations from Ed's attacks. I was in awe of how fast Ed wielded a variety of blades as we practiced with everything from shivs to my hunting knife.

Mac, the big guy in charge, kept an eye on me. I could feel his eyes following my movements, watching my practice matches. Mac had something on his mind; he just wouldn't say what it was.

I became familiar with most of the faces of the guys who worked out and practiced there during my lessons. They grudgingly tolerated me because Mac said so. None of them trusted a new guy showing up out of nowhere. Few spoke beyond what was necessary to practice their fighting skills. The one time I asked Derrick about the place, he wouldn't talk about it other than to say the same thing Mac had, that I was on a probationary period. I didn't push him; I knew Mac had warned him to shut it.

I kept watching at the coffee shop for long legs. She was making me suffer. One night I know I missed her by mere minutes; I could smell where she sat. Another night her scent was faint, where she had been there earlier in the day. Her exotic floral perfume was pleasant and didn't burn my nose the way some perfumes did. I wondered where she worked and what hours she kept. I couldn't hang there all night every night, however.

With Derrick around me all morning, I needed some time in the evenings to practice my micro-shifting and to just run and hunt as a wolf. I became familiar with our neighbors' scents and sounds.  The few dogs in the area were easy to bully into submission. The rabbits were wising up, using more caution. I kept spare shorts in the shed, and cached a few around the neighborhood, just in case. It felt absurd to hide from the animal control van that drove through the little community now and again. The sound of their truck was easily identifiable.

I enjoyed my time at work. We started tagging trees, checking for deadfall, keeping the unmarked roads used for emergencies clear. I patrolled the campgrounds with John and became familiar with the terrain. There were times when I was on my own for a bit; I would take advantage of those occasions and carefully travel as a wolf while at work.

The worst part of my new life away from home was the socks. Dad and I seldom wore them. It was easier to pull wolf paws straight out of my sneakers. To fit in, I wore socks at work and hated every minute of it. Wolf paws just didn't wiggle out of socks.

I did get some of the work-out shorts that some of the guys at the gym favored. Snug, they even stayed on when I shifted to a wolf. One hundred and eighty-pound man became one hundred and eighty-pound wolf. The waist wasn't so different, just the length and angle of the back legs.

I practiced what moves I could make comfortably as a wolf wearing shorts. I got used to wearing them, no matter how uncomfortable they were with my tail, so I wouldn't have to worry about clothes when I shifted. The black shorts blended with my dark fur, making late-night shifting a workable option. The last thing I needed was someone calling the police about a naked pervert hanging around our house.

Of course, a wolf wearing shorts wasn't suspicious at all, I snorted to myself. It at least gave me options.

My next payday had me picking up a spare helmet just in case I could talk someone into being a passenger. Derrick was more than willing to be my first test subject when I mentioned going into town.