༓･*˚*･༓☾ NOW ☽༓･*˚*･༓
THE BIGGEST HURDLE IN FINDING OUT WHERE MITHUN CAME FROM was the actual finding part.
You didn't believe his pack was still around. They would have come for him a long time ago if that was the case.
Your biggest worry was running into the pack which attacked his.
Of course, that was just one of many explanations for Mithun being left behind but you and Jessa – Gods, Jessa, your heart ached – both agreed it was the most plausible.
Your books told you there were multiple Shifter packs and that they lived somewhere deep in the forest. You couldn't imagine it was anywhere close by considering you didn't know anyone who had ever run into one. You also spent a lot of your time in those woods, tracking down injured wildlife and releasing them.
Not once did you find anything out of the ordinary.
Well. . .
Until Mithun, of course.
"We keep moving forward. Away from anything we recognise," you told him, testing the amount of pressure you could put on your leg.
It hurt more than yesterday but that was most likely because you had disturbed the wound.
"Keep your nose on the ground, Mith. Look for a scent which – which-" you pursed your lips, unable to tell him exactly what to look for because you didn't even know yourself. "-isn't like any kind of animal you've come across before."
Mithun nodded his head and then you set off, him remaining close to your side as you limped through the trees and wrapped your arms around yourself.
Luckily, your tunic was long sleeved but the autumn air was crisp with a bite which left your cheeks stinging.
You walked for days, eating wild berries, drinking water from flowing streams, seeking shelter under trees and cuddling your pup for warmth.
༓･*˚*･༓☾ THEN ☽༓･*˚*･༓
Shifters were fascinating, you thought.
In wolf form, he moved about like he'd been doing it since the day he was born. Running, leaping, and skidding - he did it all with an air of confidence about him. The skin side of him, however, opted for bum-shuffling along the ground instead of walking or crawling.
Lack of practice, if you had to guess. The muscles and strength were there but they lacked knowledge.
Still.
You wrote it in Mithun's journal. Took notes. Stored memories. Little and big things you didn't want to forget or wanted to track the progress of.
The pup had quickly become your entire world. Everything you did revolved around him.
Eight months now he was yours.
His kind hadn't come back for him.
"Gods, he's just so cute," Jessabelle commented, disbelief in her voice.
You both sat on cushions on the ground in front of the fireplace, the material patched up with your soddy sewing. Your seater was long gone thanks to the biter who lived with you.
"He is," you agreed like a proud parent.
The little one sat in front of you dressed in nothing but a cloth nappy as he gnawed on some wooden teething toys Jessabelle had brought around.
"You're a Mama now," she breathed a laugh after a moment but there was an underlining sadness there. Longing. "This means you to name him, you know?"
You knew this but you'd been putting it off. You were afraid the second you did, his pack would come and take him off of you.
Not to mention. . .you weren't sure you were worthy.
You were so weak compared to his kind. You'd fight to your death for him if you had to but realistically. . .could you protect him?
Would you be enough for him?
Could you give him the life he wanted - needed?
You didn't think so.
But.
You would damn well try to.
"We take the sign down," you decided firmly. Jessa sagged in relief. She'd been hinting towards it for many moons now. "They've had long enough. Mithun's staying with us. I'd die before I let them take him from me."
Your words didn't surprise her in the slightest. She looked as if she'd been waiting for you to catch up.
"Mithun, huh?" Reaching over, she ran her knuckle down his chubby cheek. "I like it."
You smiled. She would. It was her suggestion. She had mentioned it to you shortly after he'd arrived but you'd dismissed it, not wanting to grow close only for him to leave.
You'd often wondered how it was so easy for her to accept he was staying. Perhaps she was more optimistic than you.
"Yeah," you sighed happily, breaking out of your thoughts. Contentment washed over you. "Me too."
༓･*˚*･༓☾ NOW ☽༓･*˚*･༓
It was beginning to blur together.
Pain.
Limping.
Berries.
Burnt-orange colours.
Trees.
Burning.
Day. Night.
Weakness.
Your diet wasn't enough to keep you going and you were beginning to feel it, but you wouldn't eat raw meat and every twig you found was damp which meant no possible way to light a fire.
Mithun was hunting whilst you sat on top of a tree stump, sickness swirling in your belly.
Your thigh throbbed. It didn't look too good this morning and felt hot to the touch. The beginnings of infection but what could you do?
You were in the middle of nowhere with no hope in sight.
At the very least, you were comforted by Mithun's natural ability to survive out here.
He would be ok should something happen to you and within time, he'd likely run into someone who could help him.
You had to believe that.
A twig snapped near you and you turned, expecting to see your not-so-little-anymore pup, only to find two grey eyes glaring back at you.
Another wolf.
Bigger than Mithun, although its fur was a sandy brown. You knew from the similar shape of its jaws and snout that it wasn't any ordinary wolf. It was a shifter.
You wanted to celebrate because this was what you'd been trying to so hard find, but something in your gut screamed that this wasn't a wolf which would be helping you.
Swallowing, you kept your eyes on it as you slowly brought yourself to a stand.
Would it be able to smell the mistletoe on you?
It had been a while since you drank or applied any. You didn't know how long the effects lingered, only to use it once a week.
"I'm not here to harm you," you said calmly before scolding yourself. There was no chance in hell they are worried about you doing damage, especially with the state you were in. "I- I don't want any trouble. If you're not going to help us then please leave."
Gods.
You prayed if it attacked then Mithin would stay far, far away.
It narrowed its eyes and you took that as a bad sign. Lowering its head, it crept forward, and you step back, back, back. You had nothing to defend yourself with. Nowhere to run and hide. Your leg throbbed, wobbling. You gulped.
You thought about how unfair it would be to come so far only to die at the hands of the same creatures you'd given so much of your life to.
Suddenly, its head snapped to the right.
You followed its gaze, your eyes landing on Mithun who approached it with a similar stance, lips pulled back in a nasty snarl which even frightened you.
"Mith, no," you breathed horrified.
He was going to attack.
He would surely lose. It was too big for your son-
Only, to your shock, the bigger wolf froze and began to back up.
Mithun growled, edging forward.
You wanted to reach out, grab him, and pull him away but the other wolf was afraid of Mithun so you didn't want to risk interfering. Not whilst his plan seemed to be working.
So, you pinched your lips shut and attempted to calm your nerves, watching closely as the larger shifter turned and leapt back into the trees.
With a blink, it was gone. The only trace it left was a few disturbed leaves on the ground.
"Mith," you stuttered, in shock. "What on earth was that?"
He didn't respond, only stared into the trees.
You wondered at what point your roles had shifted and you'd stopped being the one to protect him.
༓･*˚*･༓☾ THEN ☽༓･*˚*･༓
You continued using mistletoe.
Whether you drank it or applied it to your skin, you kept your weekly ritual even as Mithun grew older and stopped his biting phase.
It was not because you were afraid of him. It wasn't to protect you from Mithun at all any more. The trick had worked quite well to stem his nipping and you still had all your limbs so for that you were thankful.
You kept at it just in case they returned for him one day. The harder the bite - the more blood which was drawn - the worse the burn would be for an attacker. Hopefully buying you enough time to get away.
Although you doubted, had one wanted you dead, it would be enough of a deterrent.
Still.
It was one of the few precautions you could take.
Like covering your tracks with deer's urine.
Or no shifting outside of the house – a rule which was easier to follow as he grew older and began to understand more and more.
"Why am I so different?" he questioned at six years old.
His understanding was better than most kids his age. Sometimes you wondered if you got his age wrong or if he simply aged faster due to his wolf genetics.
You placed a bowl of rabbit stew in front of him before joining him at the table with your favourite dish. "I've told you before, Mith. You're a very special boy. The most special child in this town and we must keep that a secret because sometimes. . .bad people want to take away special things."
You hope you didn't scare him too much but wondered if fear would be the best tool to stop him from revealing his true self.
"What if I don't want to be special?" Sad blue eyes peered down into his meal and he stirred it with his spoon, making no effort to eat it.
You took in his fair, messy hair. It was less blonde than when he was a babe and starting to darken at the roots. His eyes were still that sharp blue which pierced through your soul. His cheeks were a healthy pink and filled with baby fat. He was a chunky one, your boy.
Both tall and bulky.
Could eat everything in the house and still be hungry afterwards.
"You can't change who you are, baby," you told him softly. "None of us can. You simply embrace it because it's what makes you so unique. Learn to love it so it becomes your strength instead of your weakness."
"How do I do that?"
Gods.
You weren't equipped to deal with this.
Something catches your eye, sitting prettily in the middle of the table and it gave you an idea.
"You see these flowers. The ones you picked for me." You smiled at the memory, reaching over and stroking the petals. Your favourite colour.
"Yes," he replied with a small frown.
"To keep them thriving, we water flowers, don't we?" He nodded again. You continued. "Water is good for flowers. In the same way, nice words are good for us. So, we need to water ourselves with nice words."
"Nice words. . ." he pondered on the idea. "Like. . .I love my wolf."
You grinned and leaned over, kissing his cheek. "I love your wolf as well. Very much. Because he's a part of you."
He giggled. "Ok. I'll tell myself nice words!"
I am enough for him, you told yourself later, lying in bed with tears silently streaming down your face, wanting to heed your advice.
I. Am. Enough.
No matter how confident you said it, you couldn't bring yourself to believe it.