Feral
Feral sat perched on the limb of a ponderosa pine, high above the boy, watching him. It had been three days since their encounter. Three days since he had learned he could hold a conversation with the kid. Three days of observing him, learning him, protecting him. The silly child was risking his safety and disobeying rules by venturing into the woods again in hopes of another chance encounter with Feral. Feral was not ready to meet again but that did not mean he would leave the kid to his own devices. Who knew what kind of trouble the boy would get into if, Feral did not watch over him.
The morning after their encounter Feral had followed his instincts and had ventured back to the spot where he and the boy had talked. He had lifted himself with little thought or effort high onto a thick branch and waited. Possibly forty-five minutes passed but the boy did not come. Feral remained patient. He knew he boy would come. When another thirty minutes passed Feral had to acknowledge he had been wrong. The boy was not coming.
Angry with himself and the foolish disappointment he had felt, Feral had sprang off the branch with wings extended and headed back to his lair. On impulse he had whisked himself in a more northerly direction and had taken a less direct route. It was one that took him closer to the boys dwelling.
As he had flown a movement below suddenly caught his attention. As stealthy as he could Feral had flown lower, ducking through a clutter of branches that had suddenly opened up into a small clearing of a sorts. There was no grassy field just enough space for a young boy and an opening from above to let in enough sunlight for the boy to draw by. And that was what he had been doing.
Ricky had been sitting there with his back propped up against the bark of a tree, his knees bent, and his sketch pad laying against his thighs as he worked. As silent as he had been able to, Feral had settled himself on a low lying branch thick enough to take his weight and thick enough not to shake as he landed. An unexpected sensation of relief had coursed through him. As much as he had not wanted to admit it he was glad that he had been right about the boy.
It had suddenly dawned on Feral that the boy had most likely had no idea how to get back to the same place. He recalled the boys request for help getting home. He was obviously not good with directions and had wandered through the forest and simply picked a spot to plant himself and wait. Feral's relief turned to frustration. The boy needed to be more careful.
Now, three days later, Feral was still learning, still observing, and still protecting. He had learned the boy was getting better at directions because he had somehow made it back to this same spot three days in a row. He had observed that the human was almost as patient as he was when it came to waiting. And Feral had, unbeknownst to the boy, protected him every day until he was safely out of the woods.
Since that first morning, Feral made a point of arriving before the human woke. He sat in the tree outside his window and sat vigil until the boy stirred and got out of his bed. Seeing the boy walk out of his room, supremely oblivious to the golden eyes watching him from outside the window, Feral made his way to the outskirts of the yard and waited patiently. He listened for and suddenly heard the sound of an engine starting and the crunching sound of tires as they traveled down the graveled driveway, rumbling its deep mechanical growl further and further away from the house.
The return to woodsy silence, Feral knew, would signal the imminent arrival of the boy on the front porch steps. And like clock-work there he was dressed in jeans, t-shirt, and hiking boots with his army bag flung over his shoulder.
The boy's arrival outside spurred Feral on. Feral made his way to the same branch he had perched on over the last few days. He waited for the arrival of the boy. Within a short span of time, Feral could hear the boy making his way through the woods to this semi-isolated clearing. Feral noted that as usual, the youth's stride was hesitant and careful so unlike most humans he had observed who rushed everywhere they went.
Feral watched as the boy occasionally stopped, glanced around him, then walked again, every step bringing him closer to his chosen spot and Feral's perch. Other than being overly cautious the boy always seemed happy. Or he had done until today. Feral noticed a slight droop to the boy's shoulders this morning. His face, usually an open book, looked a little sad. Feral could have listened in to what the boy was thinking to assuage his curiosity but doing that risked letting the boy in, too. Feral was still unsure as to how this communication between the two of them worked. As he was not ready to reveal himself, Feral did not risk reaching out mentally, and chance opening a frequency.
So instead he did as he had done the last three days; he watched.
The boy, an apparent creature of habit, also did what he had been doing over the last three days. He sat down and propped his back against the large pine tree. But today, unlike the last three days, the boy did not reach for his things. Instead he plopped the army bag onto the ground beside him and left it untouched.
Feral did not know what to think of the boy's behavior. He was not crying. His heart rate was steady and even. Despite not having any outwardly obvious symptoms it was clear that all was not right in the boy's world. His apathy confused Feral. Not being able to step into his thoughts frustrated him. The fact that he cared one way or the other infuriated him!
But he did care and he was curious. He just did not know what to do about either of those things.
More time passed and Feral watched as the boy just stared blindly into the forest. He did not hum or talk to himself as he was often want to do. Feral had observed him many times over the last several weeks expelling thoughts and observations to no one there. But today he was silent. His silence disturbed Feral more than anything. When the boy released a loud pent up sigh, Feral decided he had had enough!
But he didn't leave like he thought he was going to do. He didn't fly away. Instead, he sprang from his perch and flew down, down to land directly in front of the human with a solid thud and loud flap of his wings! The boy's head whipped up and his mouth opened. Feral heard his heart gallop into life. Feral was pleased by that sound. The kid was showing at least some spark!
Feral retracted his wings before the boy lifted his head. He wanted the human to be more animated, not frightened. Though the boy had seen his wings it was not something Feral wanted to draw attention to. He still was unsure of this child or if he could trust him. Drawing attention to just how different he was-was not something he yet felt comfortable doing, so instead he acted as if he had bounded up to him at full speed and not dropped down from the sky.
He did not have to wait long for the boy's response. The shock on his expressive face turned to open pleasure and what looked like... relief. The dullness and dejection he had been projecting the last few hours was wiped away. His cheeks flushed red and his dark brown eyes fairly shown with excitement. It was then Feral realized the boy had been acting unhappy because he had been missing... him. Though Feral had known he was the reason the boy was out here to begin with he had not realized it was because the boy... liked him... was missing him. The concept made Feral feel strangely warm inside.
The human jumped to his feet and lunged toward Feral before abruptly checking himself, to take a quick step backward. Feral had the funny feeling the boy had been about to hug him.
"Hello!" the boy said in a rush. "I thought maybe you were gone!" he confessed.
"I have not gone away," Feral replied, almost tacking on, yet. He was not sure if getting close to this human was a good idea. He was still undecided whether he would stay in the area or leave. Whether he should!
"I'm glad," the boy answered with simple honesty.
"You are not drawing," Feral commented, nodding his head in the direction of the army bag that lay unopen on the leafy ground.
"Umm," the boy hummed as he shifted his feet. "I wasn't in the mood," he finally answered.
Feral did not press the issue. It was clear he had been feeling sadness at Feral's absence. He would not embarrass the boy by pushing.
"I am surprised to find you back in the woods. I did not think you were supposed to enter the forest. How do you keep from getting lost?" he asked instead.
The youth flushed. It was clear that he was breaking his elder's rule. "I've been marking the trees," he answered. "I mark a path by placing small x symbols on the tree. It's how I can get from the house to here. I don't go anywhere else," he answered, shaking his head adamantly.
Feral was impressed by the answer. Obviously the boy was trying to be more cautious about his surroundings. It was a definite improvement compared to his first, almost life threatening, jaunt into the Durango forest. It also gave Feral an idea.
"Human," Feral started but stopped when he saw the boy was staring over Feral's shoulder and he held his index finger up at Feral in a 'wait a minute' motion. Taken aback Feral turned his head in the direction the child was looking.
Not too far off was a doe and her fawn. Feral was surprised he had not sensed their presence before the boy. He did not have to actually see them to know they were there, yet they had slipped into his vicinity without his knowing. Feral frowned at that. The boy was more of a distraction to him than he had realized.
Long moments passed as they both stood quietly and watched the doe and her baby slip quietly through the trees and out of sight. As he watched the sight before him, Feral felt his mind slip back to another time. Another life. To the days when he lived as Hidden Paw.
His mother had always encourage him, his father, and his sibling to go out and take long walks through the woods to learn as much about their home as they could and the land that they lived on. Orion had agreed with this as it would help ensure that their pups- mainly Moonshine- could learn everything that they could in order to survive. Secretly though, Hidden Paw had always suspected his mother's real reason for doing this was so that Hidden Paw would grow closer to his family. She had never given up hope that-that would happen.
On one particular walk they had come across a mother deer and her fawn walking through the woods, just like the two he was watching now. Unlike his father and siblings, Hidden Paw and Luna had found pleasure in the familial sight. Though deer's were also their source of nourishment, Luna and Hidden Paw could also see past that to the beauty of nature, unlike the other wolves. The others only saw the practicality of the deer. Deers were a wolf's food source, no more, no less. It was with that mentality that Moonshine, in the next moment, ruined the encounter by pouncing at the fawn. Thankfully he had not been fast enough and mother and baby secured their freedom by bouncing deep into the forest.
Moonshine hadn't gotten into trouble for the spontaneous hunt. Orion had simply laughed at his son's spirit while Luna had taken him to task for needless hunting. Moonshine had seemed unimpressed by his mother's reprimand and had instead pouted about wanting to prove himself to be a good hunter and how he would have if he had just caught the fawn. Hidden Paw had felt differently and had bravely spoken up telling his brother he wouldn't be a great hunter, even if he had caught the fawn.
Orion had growled at Hidden Paw for his disrespect, but he had been saved by his mother who had intervened only to scold him herself. However, while she disapproved of Hidden Paw's mockery she at least had let him have a voice to explain his reasoning.
Hidden Paw had quickly explained himself to his mother. He had told her that the way he saw it, if Moonshine had succeeded in killing his prey, Hidden Paw would have seen it as dishonorable. The fawn was easy prey, not real game and killing only to prove himself and not out of need were neither honorable reasons. Killing a full grown buck while on a hunt was honorable. He had further explained to his mother that Moonshine's even bigger mistake had been in not considering the repercussions of killing a fawn. Fawns were the future of the deer population. The wolf's main source of sustenance. Fawns needed to grow up in order to mate and breed to increase their numbers. Does should not be considered fair game especially as a game just to show-off hunting skills.
Thankfully his mother, being the saving grace that she was, had understood his thought process. She had even commended him. But she had also pointed out some stark realities that Hidden Paw was not yet old enough to fully understand. She had enlightened Hidden Paw to the key point of hunting. She had explained that it all came down to survival. She had also explained to Hidden Paw that catching a fawn instead of a full grown deer would not make a wolf any less of a hunter as long as the kill was made for the right reasons.
Her explanation had made Hidden Paw feel like a child. He was obviously too young to really understand the necessities of survival and he said as much to his mother but she had disagreed. Much to Hidden Paw's surprise his mother had told him that she was very proud of him and his respect for the deer population and what it should mean to the wolves. She admitted that though his view was new to her it made very good sense and it was something she was going to pass on to the surrounding packs. Hidden Paw's chest had puffed up in pride. She had tact on in quiet sincerity that she thought Hidden Paw himself would have made a great Alpha. It had probably been the best moment of Hidden Paw's life.
Feral snapped out of Hidden Paw's memory just as the present mother doe ambled out of sight with her fawn.
"I wish I had drawn that," Ricky said, looking down at his closed bag in disappointment.
"Can you not draw from memory?" Feral questioned.
The boy looked up at him and nodded. "Yes I can draw from memory but I get better details when my subject is there for me to see."
"I see," Feral said, and he did. It gave explanation to the boy's great work. He focused on the details and it gave his art great accuracy and life.
"Do you enjoy the woods?" Feral asked. "As I recall from looking through your sketch book you draw mostly wild life."
He turned and looked up at the boy who grinned down at him. "Oh yes! I'm a really big fan of nature."
"Fan?" Feral asked in confusion. He did not know this expression. The boy would not know just how old Feral was so he would not understand that certain words would be confusing for Feral. Though he had lived during this time he had not interacted socially since he was part of a pack. That tended to interfere with building a large vocabulary of slang.
The boy cocked his head and frowned briefly before launching into an explanation. "Oh well, a fan is when somebody's a great admirer of a certain subject, person, place, or thing. They more than like it... they love it!" The boy stopped and frowned again before launching into further explanation. "It's also a noun for a household appliance used to keep you cool." The boy chuckled then. "The first definition is the one you were asking for."
Feral nodded slowly in understanding. Ignoring the joke he asked, "And you would say you were a fan of the forest?"
The boy hummed. It was a pondering sound as he processed the wolf's question before finally answering. "I love nature," he clarified. "I especially love the animals that roam in nature," he further expanded. "But these woods specifically?" he asked looking around him, "They kind of scare me," he admitted. "Something happened here in them a few weeks back and well... I don't really know my way around them and my uncle said I should not go into them. So," he finally concluded looking down at the wolf, "I am not a fan of these woods but I think I would like to be," he confessed. He looked around again with a small smile of appreciation. "These woods, they're something alright."
Feral nodded in understanding and his idea from earlier started to grow and take shape. The boy obviously loved spending time in the woods but being in them, his fear of getting lost again held him back from further exploration. He had branched out this far but he was afraid to investigate further. Feral thought he might have the remedy to cure his trepidation so that he could expand his territory. And Feral would help to make sure he stayed out of trouble as well.
He turned to the boy to the boy to start explain his idea but the boy started talking before he said a word.
"So how have you been?" he asked Feral casually.
Feral raised a brow at the question. "I have been fine."
"Good, good." The boy nodded seemingly pleased with Feral's given, yet vague answer.
Feral noticed that the boy seemed to be having trouble maintaining eye contact with him. When the boy next spoke, Feral thought he finally understood.
"I... uh... haven't seen you in a couple of days," the youth rushed out. "Have you been ...busy?"
Feral sighed. He knew the boy had not been in the woods the last couple of days just for the nature. He had been hoping Feral would come back. Though Feral was hesitant to encourage any kind of relationship between the boy and him, he was also concerned for the human's safety. It was clear the boy would disobey his Alpha's rules, just as he himself had all those many years ago and look where that had gotten him. For now, Feral decided, he would stick with the boy and his being near would hopefully keep him from suffering repercussions the boy wasn't even aware were there. His idea would not only keep Feral close but help the boy navigate the woodlands so that he would not blunder into further trouble as he had already done.
"I have been busy," he finally answered. "But now I am not."
"Did you want to see any more of my drawings?" the boy offered hopefully, reaching for his bag.
Feral almost replied with a 'yes' before he caught himself. He needed to initiate his plan if he was going to keep this boy safe. He shook his head no. "No human. I would like to discuss something else." He started walking away, searching for and finding an x. He turned and saw the boy stood exactly where he had left him with a look of hurt on his face. Feral frowned. "What are you waiting on," he called. "Follow me!"
Feral watched a multitude of emotions pass over the boy's face. The expression of hurt changed to confusion. The confusion changed to surprise. The surprise changed to outright happiness! Within seconds the boy scooped up the bag over his shoulder and carefully made his way to where Feral stood waiting for him.
"These marks on the trees. These are the ones you referred to. You make them to mark your path?"
The boy frowned before looking towards the tree. Turning back he gave Feral a weary expression. "Yes, those are the ones I was telling you about. They help me get back home. Do they bother you?"
"No," Feral replied. "They do not damage the tree."
The boy relaxed a bit before replying back softly. "Good. I meant no harm. I only did it because I need them. I have a lousy sense of direction," the boy further explained clearly concerned that he had somehow upset Feral. "If people aren't careful in the woods, they could end up getting lost!" His eyes widened as he threw his arms out. He clearly did not like the idea of himself or anyone else getting lost. Not that Feral could blame him. After all, he himself remembered the consequences of getting lost. It's what got him killed him and turned into this monstrosity.
"Calm yourself human," he ordered. "I agree with you," he disclosed hoping to calm the boy before he worked himself up further. Thankfully, his words had there desired effect as the boy's shoulders sagged and a sheepish grin twisted his lips.
"Sorry," he mumbled with a blush.
Feral mentally shook his head. This kid was pretty high-strung, he thought. He sought to sooth him so he could get to his point. "Boy, if it makes you feel better, in my experience, not many humans have a good sense of direction."
"Gee, thanks."
If it hadn't been for his hearing, Feral would've missed the rather sarcastically whispered comment the boy muttered under his breath. Feral had to suppress a chuckle. Apparently the boy was not all anxiety and nerves but had some sass in him after all. He had gotten Feral's crack about humans and not really been willing to take it sitting down. He was not completely timid. Feral liked that.
"I asked about the x human," Feral said, changing the topic back to his original point, "Because there is a flaw in your plan."
"A flaw?" the boy asked with a wrinkle of his brow.
"Your plan is good," Feral placated the boy. "But your execution needs some improvement."
"My execution?" the boy parroted back, clearly confused.
Feral sighed to himself before explaining, "I've seen too many X marks. Not just for this path. You must have done this the day you got lost?" he questioned. When the boy nodded his head in answer Feral continued. "If you keep doing it there will be too many. How could you be sure you were heading in the right direction when you came across an X? It could be for another path. There are too many X marks to count and memorize. What was meant to help you would end up getting you lost!"
"I didn't think of that," he said. The boy's frown deepened for a second as he thought about what Feral said before lighting up and he pointed to his bag. "But I have a map!" The boy drew the bag down his shoulder and plopped it on the ground. Squatting down he unzipped the pouch and quickly drew out his sketch pad thumbing to the very back. He turned it around so that Feral could see.
Feral's eyes narrowed as he examined the pencil drawn chart. There were pictures of particular markers in the forest. Each marker had an X written on it. He obviously sought out visually each marker and verified it was correct with the X. It was not a bad system but it needed improvement. Feral could also help him expand the area so he could explore further.
Nodding his head in approval, Feral commented. "You have done well human but we could improve on it and extend the map out further, making sure not to criss cross paths so you will not get lost but you would be able to travel further afield."
"Really!" The boy asked with wide eyes looking excitedly interested and worried at the same time.
Feral nodded. "I would not like you to get lost and I have the time to assist you."
The boy hesitated, surprising Feral. Feral had expected him to jump at the chance to spend time with him.
"What is the problem?" he asked the human, slightly offended that his offer of help was not being accepted. The boy had no idea how hard it had been for him to make the offer in the first place. When the boy answered though, Feral's affront changed to sudden understanding.
"I'm not supposed to go in the woods at all," the boy explained. "I am already breaking the rules coming here. I would love to explore more but I don't want to anger my uncle." The boy hesitated, his eyes were staring blindly at Feral as if recalling an unpleasant memory. "He had been really angry the last time I went!"
Feral thought for a moment. He knew the boy would be safe if he were with Feral. As long as his uncle did not come home unexpectedly there should be no reason he would ever find out. But he understood the boy's plight and he would not sway him one way or the other
The boy deliberated for long moments before finally expelling a deep groaning sigh. "Okay! Let's do it," he agreed before clarifying his own personal ground rules. "But I have to be home before my uncle gets homes and we can't go out to far. At least not right now," he amended. He grinned at Feral. "I'll work on my uncle and maybe I can get his permission. Then we can wander without fear of his finding out!"
Feral refrained from pointing out that he did not have anything to worry about. He was taking no risks. He chose instead to remain silent as the boy continued talking.
"This is going to be so great!" the boy exclaimed. He looked down at Feral. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I really appreciate this!"
The boy bent down to pick up his bag. While he busied himself, he missed the small smile that flitted across Feral's muzzle, before he once again schooled it into its habitual neutral expression. Back when he had been a pup and had wanted to help others he had always been rebuffed and told that a runt could not help with important work. But today, the appreciative response of the boy to his offer of help warmed the cold spot deep inside him as if he had caused a fissure to appear in the ice lock of his heart.
Feeling fanciful at his poetic thoughts, Feral scoffed at himself. This boy was not his friend. They would not become friends. He was just keeping the boy safe until either he or the boy left once summer was over. He needed to remember that, he scolded himself. He would continue to keep his distance and continue to call the boy-human or boy. He would not call him by his name. He would not share memories. He would keep the boy at a distance. Despite this strange connection that allowed them to communicate, there was nothing else between them. Spending time with him to figure out the why of this odd ability and keeping the boy safe were the only reasons he was sticking around. Getting warm and fuzzy with a human was not on his to-do list.
Ricky stood back up, his bag in hand. Where do you want to start?" he asked.
Feral thought about that for a second. "We should start here and work our way back to your dwelling." He replied, thinking that was the simplest solution.
The boy nodded his head in agreement. Feral made to walk closer to the tree when the boy tentatively spoke up. "Before we start, may I make a suggestion?"
"Of course," Feral replied, sitting down on his haunches and looking up at the young man with his hopeful expression.
"I think it would be most helpful if we used a symbol that related to the area that it leads to," the human proposed.
"Such as?" Feral questioned not fully understanding the boys meaning.
"Take this place for example," Ricky explained, spreading his arms out wide to encompass the small clearing where they stood, before pointing over to the log. "I recognize this area because of that log. So on the map and the tree we carve that shape. In this instance, for this path, we would carve a log shape. What do you think?"
Feral was impressed by the idea and he nodded approvingly. "That could work," he agreed. "Let's get started!"
The boy nodded back eagerly. He reached into his pocket and suddenly pulled out a small object.
Switch!
On instinct, Feral growled upon seeing the silver blade.
He was so quick to growl at the blade that he realized too late that he had scared the boy who was backing away from him carefully, his hands extended, palms out, in the traditional placating gesture. Feral saw the fear in the human's eyes and he regretted his mistake. Even more so when he realized that his fangs had extended and his wings had sprang up. No doubt his eyes were burning red as well. Quelling hundreds of years of gut reaction was impossible. This reaction normally would not matter but around the boy he realized he would need to be more careful.
With a regretful sigh, Feral closed his eyes and retracted his wings, claws, and fangs. When everything felt right, he opened his once again golden eyes to look at the boy.
Feral was a bit surprised at what he saw. The expression on the boy's face was a mixture of both fear and awe. Feral had expected the fear but the reverence was unexpected. It almost felt like a compliment.
"My apologies," Feral finally offered, bowing his head looking repentant. He truly had not meant to scare the boy. "I should have warned you about my dislike for silver," he offered in way of an explanation.
The boy eyed him with both confusion and apprehension. "Silver?"
Feral sighed once more. "It's a," He gritted his teeth before forcing the rest out, "Vampire thing," he explained as starkly as he could, using the simplest but most hated way to clarify.
A dawning look of understanding crossed the boy's face but he thankfully, made no comment.
"Just put that away. I will take care of the symbols," Feral instructed, turning away from the boy and walking once again towards the first tree, ignoring the uncharacteristic desire to talk to the boy about what he had seen.
Not once in all these long years had he ever talked about the beast he had turned into. His own opinion of himself was obviously the only one that mattered and he knew how he felt. He hated seeing his reflection when he was morphed. The evil redness of his eyes and the monstrous fangs frightened even him deep down inside. The fact that this boy was not running away from him in terror, had in fact, looked at him in wonder made him oddly curious. With resolve he stuffed that desire down, deep down and locked it away. He was what he was. Discussing it with anyone would not change a thing.
Feral heard the boy cram the knife back into his pocket before slowly following behind Feral to the tree. They briefly discussed how this particular trail would be marked, and they both agreed to the human's earlier idea of a log. After that they worked in silence. Feral paced the trail and picked which trees to mark with the log symbol while Ricky plotted the trail in his sketch book to create a map. Feral carved the symbols in with his claws. It wasn't perfect, but it was recognizable.
Once they charted the small clearing they decided they had enough time to chart where they had first met. Not the very first meeting. Only Feral knew about that meeting. Feral had not yet told the boy that he had been there that first day when he had gotten lost in the woods and trapped in a ditch. Feral was not sure if he ever would.
They charted their first communication spot. It was a tad bit deeper into the woods but not by much and Ricky felt comfortable enough to go that distance. This path they marked with a picture of a tree stump, symbolizing the stump the boy had used as a stool. Feral's claws ached from the carving but the boy's enthusiasm and genuine appreciation pushed him on.
Feral could tell the boy was growing more and more excited as they worked though on occasion Feral caught the human staring at him warily. Though he did well at hiding his fear, Feral could still smell it. Feral ignored the fear as much as the boy pretended not to feel it. Instead they worked on the paths which were marked more clearly now.
With the clearer marked icons along the way, the boy began to understand the wisdom of what they were doing and he voiced his complete understanding of Feral's earlier concern about marking every tree with an X.
"I would have eventually gotten totally lost!" the boy admitted to Feral as he sat on the stump and plotted the map.
Once in a while, as the boy sat quietly drawing as he was now, Feral would observe him covertly and marvel at his somewhat strange habits. Like now, the boy had finished marking the page. What he did next seemed to be a ritual for him, only Feral did not know what the ritual meant though he had his suspicions. He watched as the boy muttered to himself while making strange hand gestures. He then placed his finger tip to the page he had just been working on before taking that fingertip and tapping it to his forehead with his eyes closed shut. It was as if the boy was trying to put everything on the map into his head.
Feeling more than curious, Feral finally was compelled to ask, "What are you doing human?"
"Memorizing," the boy answered simply as if that explained everything.
"Memorizing?" he echoed.
"It's just part of my process," Ricky confessed. "Doing this helps me retain new information." The boy shrugged self-consciously. "Most people think I'm weird for doing it but it helps keep everything in my head."
Feral frowned not sure what to say to that. It was as he had thought and it did appear a bit odd to watch but at the same time if it helped the boy learn what did he care? It was also obvious the boy was embarrassed about something that made him different from others. That was something Feral could relate to. So instead of saying anything, Feral asked the boy a question about the map that conveniently changed the subject for both of them and back to work they went.
When they were finally finished with the second trail, the boy performed his ritual once more, as Feral stood silently by, before closing his sketch pad with a happy slap.
As the boy put his pad and pencil into his army bag, Feral asked, "Are you content with your map?"
The boy nodded with a pleased grin on his face.
"So you believe you can make your way here and to the small clearing now with no problems?" he quizzed the boy.
The boy nodded once more in reassurance.
Satisfied, Feral stood to his paws. It was time for them to part. "This is good. If you need my assistance again, please feel free to ask."
The human let out a startled giggle and looked around the woods with its dense foliage in confusion. "Um, how?" he asked
Feral cringed slightly but answered nonetheless. "Simply call out my name," he instructed. "I will come."
Being called like a dog was not Feral's first choice, in fact if anyone else were try to do it- it would be downright humiliating, but if the boy ever had a need of him or an emergency, he needed to be available. Calling out to him was the most expedient means available.
The boy nodded. "I will. I promise."
Feral walked the path with the human until they reached the lush green of grass. The boy continued to walk through the yard but Feral stopped that the forest's edge. Ricky stopped and turned back when he saw that the wolf was no longer beside him.
"This is where we part," Feral told him.
The human looked disappointed but he understood and accepted that this was the way it had to be. The boy waved to him and thanks him again. Feral ignored the sadness that slightly dulled the boy's brown eyes.
Satisfied that the boy was home safe, Feral turned around and began walking away. His thoughts navigated the day's journey. Despite showing hesitancy at times with Feral, the boy deep not seem outright afraid of him and Feral marveled at that. It was amazing to him that a boy who obviously had many quirks and anxieties was spending time with a wild wolf. And not just any wolf but a monstrous one and yet, here the boy still was. And Feral, a complete loner, was intentionally seeking this boy out to spend time with him. It was unheard of but yet, here he still was. Here they were!
What was this connection between the two of them? What made this boy so different from everyone else in the human race that he had ever crossed paths with? As he freed his wings and lifted himself up into the air to take flight he pondered these questions.
The biggest difference that sprang to Feral's mind was that they could communicate with each other. Being able to communicate telepathically most likely made the human feel safer as well as drew him to Feral to expand on that communication. Feral recognized that it was what drew him to the human.
As the cooling evening air caressed his fur another answer revealed itself to Feral. He was a wolf. While healing in the basement he had learned of the intense love the boy had felt towards wolves. Feral believed it was one of the reasons the human had taken such care of him. Though Feral thought he had been incredibly foolish doing what he had done, his care had touched Feral deeply, and he couldn't disagree that what the boy had done had been the best thing for Feral.
These two things, Feral realized, were most likely giving the boy a false sense of security. False because the boy had no idea what he was really getting into. Feral was indeed a wild monstrous wolf. It was incredibly lucky for the boy that Feral was an honorable one as well. It helped the boy that Feral was also burdened with the same sense of curiosity that the boy obviously had. Hopefully, Feral thought as he landed lightly on his paws, he could keep them both out of trouble and their inquisitiveness under control.