Six

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I couldn't remember how long it had been. But I spent the day or afternoon, cleaning my mums head stone and garden. When she passed away, I cried for hours, before realising my mum didn't want this from me. When people asked how I was, I simply replied with I could be doing better, but I'm fine.

I didn't talk about it with anyone, not even my brothers or my dad. Dad took a toll after that. His mate had died, his love and his heart had gone with her. He couldn't be with anyone else after that. Her sad passing took a toll on my brothers as well. They recovered, putting up a brave face to help the pack.

I closed off myself to people after that. My first shift was painful, I didn't have anyone around to help me through it. I didn't want my brothers there or my dad. I only wanted my mum there. She told me her first shift was painful and she had her mum there. I couldn't let anyone else be there but mum. So, I did what any other she-wolf did. I shifted in front of my mums grave.

I felt her, through everything. She was standing there, reassuring me. Keeping a watchful eye on me at all times during my shift. Even without her psychically being there, she was there in spirit. Under the full moon, a couple of days after my 13th birthday.

I cleared away the decaying flowers and other flower reefs. I took away the weeds growing around her headstone. I chucked off to the side, somewhere in the forest. I wanted to clean and tidy and make this garden better. It had clearly lacked in some tender loving care. Or any care for that matter.

My brothers and my dad lacked in having a green thumb about them. I got my love for gardening from my mum. I wanted to clear the area and make it once again beautiful.

Clearing away the last of the fallen branches and leaves, I got to work wiping away at her head stone. Cleaning it, using a broken stick to clean out the lettering and words on the head stone. I wanted it to be shiny once more. This place calmed me, made me happy, visit my mum. It was like she was always watching me, always above, keeping me safe.

Finally cleaning everything, chucking away all the green waste into a part of the forest, I got comfy next to mums headstone. I smiled, closing my eyes, imaging she was sitting with me. I breathe in slowly and then let it out, deeply. I sighed, thinking of memories with mum. Having fun, gardening, playing board games with her and cooking in the kitchen with her.

A voice spoke, shaking me out of my memories with mum. "I miss her each and every day."

I snap open my eyes and look to see my dad standing there. He was smiling, not wide, but a sweet, soft and simple smile. He had his hands in his pockets and he was watching me. He finally started to walk towards me and mum's headstone. He took a seat on the other side of me, letting me lean myself on him.

"Dad, I miss her more than you know." I sigh, softly. I placed my head onto his shoulder and snuggled into my dad, getting comfy.

"I know Winter." He simply replies. "We've all missed her."

"She's constantly with me, though. In my heart, in my head." I hold onto the necklace she gave me, right before she passed away. "She's always with me, with us dad. No matter where we go, what happens, she's always with us."

He smiles at my statement. "You're just like her. But with my stubbornness." He chuckles. "You look more and more her every day, Winter."

"I hate your stubbornness somedays." I muttered.

"I think we all do, you've got it worse than me." He points out. "But, you still have your mums heart of gold."

We sit in silence for a few moments. Just staring out into the forest, hoping, praying she would just appear out of nowhere. But we both know that wasn't going to happen. I shift and get up. I look down at dad and mums headstone.

"Loving wife, mother and Luna. Agatha Leslie Christiansen." I say softly. "Do you always visit her?"

"Every day, sweet pea."

"You should really clean it once and a while. I'm not always going to be around to clean it, dad." I pick some fresh flowers from the garden and start to place them on the headstone.

Dad stands up, helping me place the flowers around. He takes a deep breathe before turning to me and looking at me. "You know your uncle got rejected."

"Uncle Mason?" I question him.

"Yes, Mason, well, he was Mason and he stuffed up. But he found another mate, a chosen. She was also rejected. Things do look up for those who are rejected, Winter."

I moan. "Dad, it's not about that. It's the fact that I don't want one."

"But this isn't just about you Winter. This is about you and your wolf." He scoffs.

"Don't you think I know that. I've always known, I'm not that stupid naïve and young girl anymore dad. I've grown up."

"Are you sure you've grown up? Because you're making a childish decision."

"I've never felt the need or want for a mate. I've never had a crush, nor an obsession with."

"Can't you just chose someone? Like your uncle Mason. I just want my baby girl to be happy."

"And I am happy dad." I wrap my arms around my stomach.

"Is your wolf happy?" He raises an eye brow.

I pause. I hesitate on my answer.

"That's what I thought. You can never be truly happy, until your wolf is happy as well." My dad gives my shoulders a quick pat, before starting to walk away. "You'll never be truly happy, Winter. Unless you help your wolf. A happy wolf makes a happy life, aye Winter."

I stand there, arms wrapped around me, letting the breeze hit me. Was I truly happy with myself? Not only destroying my hope at happiness, but my hope at finally being able to see my wolf once more. Am I ever going to be happy? Am I going to be happy if I allow my wolf to make choices for me, that I don't want.

Why was it that my wolf controlled me? Why? When did the world come to that. When did my life come to that? My wolf and I were always on the same page, for everything. Except this one major issue, it wasn't a minor one or a tiny one. It was a huge, major issue. I wanted freedom, she wanted a mate. We were both being as stubborn as each other.

And one of us needed to budge.

The Lone WolfOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora