Petty Little Monsters (Little Monsters Series, Book 1)

18

"Alright, so... Shifting is weird, yeah?" Cal said flexing her hands a little at her sides.

"I guess?" I shrugged a little.

"I mean... I've never taught anyone. My elders taught me and to be honest, I've forgotten what they said since I learned. Should've probably written something down if Fred and I ever have kids."

"You wanna carry? Or does Fred?"

"I think we both do. We'd like to do it at the same time too, so we'd get both experiences of being pregnant and seeing the love of our lives pregnant."

"That sounds beautiful." I smiled a little, hoping someday Abel and I would have kids. Which... Alright Gael, you're getting way ahead of yourself here, you gay moron.

"Yep. So, you'll be my guineapig for when I need to teach a kiddo of my own how to shift."

I snorted and nodded, ready for this. We had both dressed in sports attire, standing around in their backyard, and Cal made me very self-conscious of how tiny my arms were compared to hers. Her tank top looked a lot better on her than my t-shirt did on me. She was also covered in tattoos. Lots and lots of symbols spread across her fair skin. Looked like they formed feathers when you looked at them from afar.

She took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders a little. And then big feathers lifted from the tattoos forming wings. I took a step back, completely in awe of how massive yellow and white wings now sprouted from her back. Talons grew from her fingers as she gently flapped those awesome wings of hers. And they were awesome in the literal sense of the word, not the slang version. Several rows of feathers ended up in long ones by the ends, differing between white, off-white, yellow and then a deep orange-y kind of colour. I wanted to paint her wings. Badly. They were like a sunset.

"You've got beautiful wings," I said, gaping at her.

Feathers were growing out on the bald spots on her head, now making it much clearer why she kept the sides of her head hair-free.

"Thank you! I try to take good care of them," she said as one wing came around her body so she could pick out some fluff from between the feathers. One feather fell to the ground, a large one and she picked it up and handed it to me. "Dunno if you're into quill and ink, but Fred swears my feathers are good for it." She shrugged a shoulder.

I looked at the golden feather and held it as carefully as if it were made of glass. I carefully ran a finger over it, revelling in the softness of it.

"Thank you," I said with a low voice, still looking at the feather. There were green tones in there as well, when I turned it, and it caught the light in different ways. It was ridiculously pretty. I wasn't sure if I wanted to turn it into a quill or frame it and hang it on my wall. But that'd probably be weird considering this had been attached to my friend not five seconds ago.

"Oh, don't mention it. I shed all the time but luckily my girlfriend has found a use for them." She grunted and shook her wings. "Anyways, this wasn't about me. You need to learn how to do this too."

"I... I don't get how I can learn that."

"Well, I am a born griffon. I learned to grow feathers before I learned to walk. When were you turned?"

I swallowed hard and kept my eyes on the pretty colours of the feather. "Three years ago."

"Right so you're a three-year-old. You have the control of a three-year-old. You cannot expect to have full control. Much will come with time, but while we wait, we can work on connecting you to the wolf, so there's not two fighting for control but one single unit sharing it. You'll need his instincts and he'll need yours. You're neither wolf nor human. Neither of you can navigate the world as either or anymore."

I bit down on my lip and ran the feather through my fingers. "I just don't want to."

Cal's heavy hand landed on my shoulder. "Gael, you can keep wanting out of this but it's not going anywhere. I can sympathise with the choice being taken away from you, but... None of us had one, you know? We gotta play the lot we're given, or whatever."

I snorted and looked up at her. She had changed back, her wings turning into tattoos once again. "Or whatever?"

"Yeah, I'm not the one with the words. Just trying to be supportive. Listen, I'm much better at swinging a hammer at metal. That's my language. This talking thing..." She grimaced and bopped her head from side to side.

"I know what you mean." I sighed and sat down in the nice comfy garden chairs. "Abel's so good at like... Talking and telling me what he likes about me, and to be honest, one day he'll realise I'm a moron who can't say anything back." I ran my hand through my hair and sighed again. "He can do better."

Cal snorted and sat down next to me, offering me a beer from the small outside fridge they had installed last week. "Everyone can always do better. It's not about better. It's about who's right."

I mulled that over for a bit. I guess she was right. It sure sounded pretty when she said it like that, but I still wasn't fully convinced. Someone right was probably also better. If they were right wasn't that the very best option?

I wasn't smart and I was smart enough to know that. I also constantly had this feeling Abel was going to figure it out and then he'd tire of me, because he was smart. I couldn't keep up with him at all. I couldn't keep up with the others either. Creek and Fred were smart too. Academics. I was only good at drawing and painting. All my essays got a pass but that was all I could brag about. I was a shit student, and once Cal realised, she'd probably want to bail too.