On the day of her death, the short, solo hiking trips Leanne had taken to during her last year of high school had become just a taste of the freedom she was soon to grasp. Lungs burning, her legs numb and cheeks flushed, she threw her hands towards the sky as her head filled itself to the brim with the ultimate high. The mountain air, no longer stinging now that the day was warming up, was still clear and vibrant with the scents of life that surrounded her. This was her version of celebration.
She'd graduated just the day before with her shifter class. Though there was no football field to walk through, their names were still called in the pack hall. She'd managed her valedictorian speech without stuttering or awkward silences, and her number one school had sent her the letter of acceptance. She still felt the utter thrill of a grand future and the huge plans that waited for her.
"Dr. Leanne Orion, DVM," She hollered into the void, her voice echoing. She shared her triumph with the hills and valleys, sent the good vibrations towards the winding Kern river, and celebrated with the animals of the mountains she shared her home with.
One day soon, well, if you count ten years or so soon, she'd leap the hurdles set in front of her by her dud status and earn the respect of the wolves she was raised with. Pack loved her, she knew that, but there would always be stigma over a shifter with the lack of a second soul. She couldn't feel their judgment out there, though, standing at the end a rough trail edged by tall grass and surrounded by the evidence of Mother Nature's blessing. She basked in the shine of a sun fully ascended, absorbing the early morning heat that promised a summer full of adventure.
Only sixty-two days stood between her and a new life, time enough to absorb the fact that she had earned the chance to study at a human university with the best veterinary program in the world. She could hardly wait, her nerves pins of fire as the excitement pulled her into a jumping dance, squealing and laughing, baring her teeth in a smile that only duds and humans were allowed.
Dropping her pack on a boulder just off the trail, she let herself fall back into a cocoon of healthy grass, gazing through the needles of the tall trees that gave her only glimpses of a pure blue sky. She closed her eyes, looking into the red membranes that protected her from the light, listening to the cacophony of croaking blue jays returning after her abrupt declaration to the universe. The trees whispered to each other about things that trees whisper about. A gray squirrel chirped not too far from her, it's voice piercing and consistent.
This was her favorite part of the mountains, her 'why' when asked. The whole reason she hiked alone when there were so many in the pack that would be happy to go with her. The void she felt in her chest, that defining lack that was so difficult to describe to those that have didn't cut so deep.
But it was still there.
With a deep breath, she placed her hand over her sternum and dug in with painful nails over the scars that were scattered there. If her mother caught her, she'd receive a scolding, so she didn't dare break skin. Pain wouldn't bring about something that didn't exist, anyway. And yet she held onto her childlike hope, reaching out with her soul into the darkness where the wolf should have been, and searched.
Her moment was ended with the gurgled sounds of conversation that cut through the silence. With a groan, she stood and stretched with her hands reaching high above, her nose tipping into the air and scenting. Human tourists, she guessed, carefully keeping to the trails to avoid the pack's ire. The breeze was all wrong for it, and she was headed upwind from them anyway, but it was the sound of happy dogs that had given them away. Her sacred moment over, she stretched her legs and sipped water from her pack before picking up the trail back to Sierra way.
It was slower going down the mountain, and indeed she'd found the small group of humans and their waggly pit bulls. She hadn't stopped to meander with them, only nodded their way with a, "Hey there," subtly proud when the dogs had hidden behind their owners after catching her scent. If there was any validation to be had, it was that she smelled like a wolf shifter should. Stumbling off the trail head, she aimed for the dodgy old jeep she and her dad had fixed up, glaring at the awful paint job her cousins David and Thalia had done to make it look like it belonged in Jurassic Park.
Even she had to admit it was a good prank, but they still owed her an actual paint job, and while she was driving north on Sierra way she debated the merits of army green or fire engine red, and even momentarily considering Barbie pink. By two in the afternoon she was pulling up to the three story house that the Orion clan called home.
Poppa Dirk was in his creaky old lawn chair stationed at the foot of the porch, his cigarillo hanging precariously from one hand while a flayed and crumbled book perched in the other. Mostly deaf, nearly blind, and a nose that was smoked out, he didn't see her hop the steps and cross the newly stained patio or hear the old screen door crank open. Mammy Orion, however, was still sharp as a tack.
"Where have you been?" She asked from the recliner, snapping her e-reader onto her blanket covered lap with a plop. Forehead crinkling with her rising eyebrows, her eyes held all of Leanne's attention, a sharp blue that spoke of her European lineage. The subtle growl that worked it's way through her great-grandmother's chest forced her own Orion browns to the floor.
Leanne froze, wondering what she'd done wrong, "I hiked Cannell Peak?"
"Mammy," Her dad said as he wandered out of the kitchen, "Leave her alone. Honey-girl, Mom saved you some lunch. We've got to be at the field in an hour."
Leanne's mother called for Mammy from the kitchen, and with a sniff the old wolf went. But like a pin stuck in a balloon, her excitement vanished with a pop. She'd forgotten about the pack run, a pre-game to the meeting later in the evening in celebration of the late bloomers who'd found their other souls. Her accomplishments meant very little when compared, and it was only years of practice that kept her features peaceful.
Larry Orion, clan leader and member of the pack council, however, would never have missed the infinitesimal drop of his daughter's shoulders whenever she was reminded of her unworthiness. One moment he was standing feet away from her, and the next she was surrounded by the strength of a father pulling her in for the best kind of hug. She tucked herself into the reminder that her family didn't care about her dud status, only that she was their's and belonged with pack.
"I just wish I could find her," she choked out through the tightness of her throat, squeezing her lids tight to prevent her skin from feeling the sting of salty tears. She could almost swear she could feel her dad's second soul whuffing at her own, the brown timber wolf just as familiar as the human holding her. As soon as it was there, though, it disappeared.
"Wolf-less are just as important to pack as any other," he said, uttering that hated word in his gentle way, "They navigate the world better, and bring home necessary skills from schools that won't allow a second soul entry. Humans have the gamut when it comes to education, and in this you have the power to help pack in ways the others can't."
Rolling her eyes at the often heard excuses, she tried to break out of the hug only to be nearly crushed as his hold on her tightened, "But Dr. Borris—,"
"Went to a shifter university and earned a shifter degree. While he is very much needed here in the mountains, I think we can all agree that his way of doctoring was new in the middle ages."
She can't help but huff a laugh, her tears dried with the rag of her father's humor.
"You are going to do great things," he father promised, the heat of his breath flowing through the hair on the crown of her head, "You are smart, strong, and brave. You are vicious in the best of ways, protector of those in need. Never forget that, Honey-girl."
Sniffling again, she didn't have it in her to respond. How does one explain the loss of something she'd never felt before? That certain lack that she feels in her chest where her wolf should be? It was impossible, and there were both too many and too few words to explain it. A black void of emptiness usually summed it up pretty well.
Her father sighed, pushing back to hold her at arms distance, studying her with his sharp Orion eyes. She was sure her answering smile was more of a grimace than anything, but he nodded anyway, kissing her on the forehead.
Stepping away from him, she made a pass through the kitchen where her mother wrapped an arm around shoulders and Mammy brushed her cheek against her own. Embarrassment warmed her ears as they revealed their eavesdropping, though no shifter household was a very private one. She let the moment stretch as long as she could until her dad called for everyone to leave.
Elephant shifters were probably quieter than a load of wolves tumbling over each other to get to the stairs. The sitting room and kitchen were suddenly full of family, the adolescents so excited by the call of pack that they'd already stretched into their fur. She wasn't left without good byes, though, and no few of them brought her into their embrace to cover her with the scent of family and all their love.
Nabbing a protein filled sandwich, she eased her way up the stairs on sore legs that needed a good stretch and into the room she shared with her younger brother and sister, Lenora and Larry Jr. Watching from the window next to her bed, she let herself enjoy the show of a writhing tangle of wolves being shuffled into this car or that one. She had to admit it was almost funny the way they shoved themselves into as few cars as possible, little cousins and funny uncles making the most of it when they're designated to the bed of the truck where coolers filled with waters and sports drinks and snacks of all kinds were likely to squish them.
She watched as the doors slammed closed, as the engines rumbled to life and gears shifted, until the dust of the driveway settled behind them, her sandwich still parked on her lap without having taken a bite.
The silence of a house usually so full of life was unsettling even on the best of days, and it was hard to keep her father's words of encouragement in mind when she'd been left behind once again. She let the wall she leaned on support her, closing off her mind from her senses to the world.
It wasn't as good where she was, sheltered from the wild by wood and metal, where the wind couldn't touch her and the song of trees didn't whistle over her head. Instead, she was met with the ominous cracks of an old house still settling, of her kitten Lily padding across the bedding to lay at her side, and ringing silence. She placed her hand over the hollow emptiness of her chest, the void where her wolf should be, and cried for the other half of her soul.