The afternoon sun was rolling off the mountain sides. The golden light spilled in through the open window where Martha Winston dried her hand on a kitchen towel. She glanced out the back door to the smooth lawn. A few feet away from the steps she could see the small boy sitting in the grass.
"He could do with a hair cut," she absentmindly thought, studying the long, auburn locks that reached the base of the slim shoulders. A fond smile grazed her face. At fifty-three she had never expected to have a small child in the house again. Then her sister's only daughter had shown up on the door step, holding a greeneyed three year old boy by the hand. Two hours later Martha was the one holding the boy's hand, seeing Maude Standish off to unknown locations yet again. Of course, Frank, Martha's husband, was furious when he had returned home from work. But she had handled him as she always had, with one hand planted on her hip and one finger raised at him as she gave him a right lecture. Another smile made its way over her face. Frank could be as stubborn as an old mule, but he had always loved children. After having fathered and raised six of them, who by now had all left the nest, he didn't mind taking in a shy, little stray in need of some stability and love in his life.
Four months had passed and life had settled down again, although Martha couldn't help feeling worried about that one day Maude would be sweeping back in, taking off with their surrogate son. A frown marred her forehead as she looked down at the dough she was kneading. Pushing the thoughts away she once again glanced out the door. Her hands stilled as she noticed the small, grey shadow close to the boy. Had to be a dog from one of the neighbours, she decided. Happy thrills of laughter floated in on the summer breeze.
"Go check on him, will you, dear?" Martha didn't need to look up to see the tall, greyhaired man entering the kitchen. She felt a gentle hand touch the back of her neck and smiled. "I think he's playing with one of the Cruster pups. You should propably give them a call, letting them know one of their dogs have gotten loose." When she didn't get a response, she turned to him. "Frank, what's wrong?"
Frank stopped her from stepping out into the garden. "Martha, that's no dog." His voice was calm, but she could tell by his eyes that he was getting worried. "Go get my gun."
Looking out over his shoulder Martha could easily see the grey, ragged fur, perked ears and the round, blue eyes of a wolf. "Good Lord," she breathed, watching the wolf nuzzle a little hand.
"Now don't you be scared," Frank soothed her. "It's just a cub, must have gotten away from the pack. Get me my rifle just in case, but it doesn't look like it's done the boy any harm."
Over the initial scare, Martha nodded. "They're playing... Well, I'll be..." Stopping, she busied herself finding the key to the locked closet holding the guns.
Shading his eyes with his hand, Frank entered the back yard. He walked slowly, to not spook the wild animal. The wind blew the wrong way, taking his scent towards the pair on the lawn. The wolf cub stopped in its tracks and lifted the furry head to study Frank.
"Easy there," the man whispered. "Just gonna come a little closer... You're far away from your own kind, ain't you?"
The surprisingly bright, blue eyes calmly watched him. Giving a small woof, the wolf sat down, tilting its head to one side. Staying like that for a little while, it gave Frank a strange feeling of being measured. Then the wolf bounced back up and disappeared into the woods again. Scooping the small boy up into his arms, Frank met smiling, emerald eyes. It was impossible not to smile back. Then he sighed.
"Ezra Patrick Standish, don't you ever give us a fright like that again! Wolves aren't for playing with, young man."
"Puppy!" the three year old exclaimed. Looking around, fine, curved eyebrows drew together. "Where'd puppy go?"
"Puppy had to go home," Frank explained. "Now let's go see if your auntie Martha can be talked into making a nice peach pie for after dinner, shall we?"
"Okay." Having a safe grip on Frank's arm, Ezra turned back to the forest. "You think puppy will come back?"
"I don't know, kid, I don't know."
From the house Martha had seen what had happened and was relieved to put the rifle back. Taking the child from her husband's arms, she kissed him on top of the russet head.
"Did you see the puppy, auntie?" he beamed at her. "Uncle Frank says that he was a wolf puppy, do you think he was a wolf puppy, auntie?"
"I reckon he was," Martha replied. Sending Frank a smile, she started for the stairs. "Come on, Ezra, let's get you cleaned up before dinner." The boy in her arms was quiet until they reached the bathroom.
"Did the wolf puppy make you scared, auntie?" he asked seriously.
Placing Ezra down on the floor, Martha kneeled down in front of him, cupping his round face in her hands.
"He did, darling. Wolves can be dangerous if they get scared. It could have bitten you." The shaking of the child's head was somewhat impaired by her hands.
"Was a nice puppy, auntie Martha. He said he'd come back."
"Who, the wolf? Sweetheart, a wolf can't..." Her words came to a sudden stop as the boy's eyes flickered into a deep golden colour, unaturally bright in the lighted room. "Puppy told me his name too."
Shocked, Martha set back on her heels, one hand covering her mouth. "Merciful maker, child... What is happening to you?" Taking him into her arms, she hugged him tightly. Placing his arms around her neck, Ezra leaned into the embrace, completely oblivious to Martha's distress.
"Puppy's name was Vin," he declared. "I hope he comes back."
At the same time Alice Twinfeather was standing in front of the two stories house she and her husband, along with the children, lived in. From inside she could hear the four older boys setting the table, mixed with her husband's singing by the stove.
"Now where is that boy?" she thought yet again. "I swear he's giving me grey hairs by the minute with stunts like these..." The six year old wasn't the only and wouldn't be the last orphan she would take in, but this kid was a bit special. Not only did he have one amazing ability to get himself into trouble, he also shared the special gift that her father also had been blessed with. Henry Twinfeather had died at age fourty-nine, from cancer, along the same time as Alice had discovered the four year old runaway. The child's mother had died only weeks in advance, in a car accident. She had been one fourth Native American and had decided to return to the reservation that her mother grew up in, after her parents died. Alice couldn't ever remember hearing about the father of the boy. Seeing the small blue eyed kid with long curls threatening to cover his face completely, she immediately knew that he belonged in her care. Even if he could be something of a trial at times.... A relieved smile spread over her face as she noticed the figure coming out of the forest, running towards the group of housing.
Spotting her the boy came to a full stop. "Sorry, Alice!" he called in advance. "Didn't mean to be late. Again." He sheepishly added. "I..."
"Lost track of time," she finished for him, knowing the excuse. "We'll talk about this later, Vin," she waited until he was next to her before taking his hand. "Dinner's ready in a sec. Hurry up and get washed up."
Entering the house again, Alice met the eyes of Grady, her husband. He was the only one, beside herself, that knew the truth about the six year old boy that they had taken in two years ago.
"He was in the forest again?" he quietly asked as Alice joined him by the stove. By her nod, he sighed. "I know we can't deny him to go in there, but it's a dangerous place for a kid his age. If he goes and gets himself caught in a trap... There are lots of people still hunting illegally. He doesn't know how to look out for those yet. And that's just one of the things..."
Alice knew he was right, but she also knew how important the feeling of freedom and opportunity to relase the overabundance of energy that would build up, was. "I'll talk to him," she promised in the end. "I'll take him out with me, and make sure he knows to look out for himself. We can't take that away from him, Grady. It'll drive him crazy if we do."
He smiled at her "You're the expert, love." The sound of small, running feet made him look up again. Grinning he reached out to ruffle golden brown curls. "There you are, pup. Now go find your seat, dinner's ready."
The night was lit by a pale fullmoon. She could hear the soft calls of wolfs in the distance, the sound was making Martha feel uneasy. They had never bothered her before, the animals were too far away. But now their faint howling had her worrying for the small child now sleeping soundly in the little bed they had placed in the room next to Frank's and her room. Gently she touched soft hair and tucked the blankets better around the sleeping form. Ever since the day Ezra had played with that wolf cub she had noticed changes in him. Small, subtle changes that might have had already started before that day, she didn't know. She wasn't sure if Frank had noticed either, the signs weren't strong, but they were there.
The shift in eye colour still spooked her, and thankfully it didn't happen often. The rich, golden colour made her think of something out of this world, something her Christian upbringing repelled with every breath of her body. And the connection with the wolf... She had never seen a wolf cub on its own like that, unless the mother had been trapped or killed. But she had seen the wolf again, she knew it was the same because of the unusually sharp, blue eyes, and it had looked fine; round and healthy. A small shudder made her hug her arms around her chest as she recalled the feeling of the animal staring at her, reasoning and even thinking behind that steady gaze. Sighing she touched the sleeping boy's cheek. The good Lord never let anything happen without a reason. There had to be a reason for this too, she just didn't know it yet. Turning the lights down low, she left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
The sound of the wolves singing had another, attentive listener as well. A young wolf cub stopped and listened intently to the melodic noises. The sounds called to him, the different voices in the choir familiar to him by now. He wasn't supposed to be out here like this, not on his own. But sometimes the restlessness grew too strong and he snuck away, running through the forest for some glorious hours.
Just about to turn and follow the midnight choir, an unfamiliar smell reached the sensitive nose of the wolf. The smell was sharp, itching in his nostrils. The flicker of something in the dark made him stiffen. It was bright red and dancing before it was swallowed back by the dark. Fire.
A new scent was carried on the light breeze. Sickly sweet and heavy, it made his eyes water. Burrowing through the dense underbrush, the cub moved up-wind, grimacing at the unpleasant smells.
"You got it?" a gruff voice asked and he froze again.
"Yeah." The second voice was slicker, younger. "Told you Hector would come through. Even gave me a nice discharge on the two pieces, so I picked up some extra ammo clips." The words were followed by a long, deep exhalation that brought a new wiff of the sweetly smell. A pinpoint of orange and red lit up and then died.
The first voice grunted a reply. "Ok. Just as long as you remember that they're back-up only. Don't want you waking the neighbours shooting the house down."
"What neighbours? Ain't a house in close distance. It's just the old couple and a child. They're probably all safely tucked in and sleeping by now."
"Yeah, yeah." The first one had gotten up. "You comin'? They hardly ever go out after they got the kid, should at least have some silver and some cash lying arund."
"I'm coming, hold your horses..." The rustling and moving ended as the two tall, burly shadows disappeared towards the road.
The wolf stayed hidden for several minutes, his heartbeat thudding in his ears. Then he slowly stood up. The words had scared him. Realisation dawned on him, making him sit right back down again. He knew where the men were going. Gathering up all his courage he carefully went after them.
The sound of angry voices boomed through the second floor, waking Ezra up with a start. Green eyes blinked sleepily in the near darkness. Something was wrong, he could sense it. Climbing out of the bed, the three year old made his way to the door, peering outside. He couldn't see anything. Maybe auntie and uncle Frank were arguing, it didn't sound like them though. So he pushed the door open and trotted in the direction of the voices.
Garreth Johnson had been sure that the Winston house would be an easy hit. Go in, get the goods, get back out. He hadn't counted on the Winstons still being up. Glancing at the man next to him, he knew this had been a bad idea to bring him along. Zeke Lowry was swinging his revolver around, shouting at the couple to get the jewelries and money. Oh yes, this had been a very bad idea.
"Auntie?" a small voice interrupted his thinking. Spinning around Garreth discovered a little boy looking back at him, dressed in a blue pyjamas with some kind of cartoon characters on the front. Damn. He had forgotten about the kid.
The woman had seen the kid as well, and started towards him. Another wave of Zeke's gun made her stop, her pale and frightened face turned to Garreth who was swearing.
"What the hell am I supposed to do now? Shut up, I need to think!" he called to his partner who was still shouting at the Winstons. The other man took no notice of him. "I said shut up!" Garreth yelled, reaching out to slap him on the arm. He never reached him.
Something had all of a sudden moved in between or he had moved back, he didn't know. His arm connected with a small body, sending the boy crashing down the flight of stairs.
"No!" the woman screamed, throwing herself forward to try and reach the boy. A shot rang out, making her collapse to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Blood was pooling under the still form, the amount almost unreal in its quantity.
Watching his wife get shot to death in front of him, Frank decided that he didn't have anything left to lose anymore. With a mighty roar he lunged himself at Zeke. He never even heard the bullet entering his head, ending his life instantly.
The house fell quiet.
The wolf had stopped, frightened by the sudden, piercing sounds of gunfire. Creeping onward he snuck into the hallway, sniffing the air experimentically. Too many scents. Bad scents, he didn't recognize them, but they provoked fears in him that he didn't understand. Slowly scanning the room, his blue eyes landed on the crumpled figure by the end of the stairs. On top of the stairs there were two men shouting at each other in loud voices.
The cub silently made his way over to the boy. He was laying on his back, his eyes closed. Gently the wolf poked him with a paw. "Come on, come on," his thoughts pleaded, "we have to get away from here." The redheaded boy's eyelids fluttered Poking him with his nose this time, the cub made a low whine. At last the boy woke up. The green eyes were hazed from the pain. "Puppy?" he whispered, his voice confused. The solid thumps of a tail against the floor was the reply.
Then the wolf cub transformed smoothly into a crouching boy.
At six years old, Vin Tanner had know for the most of his young life that he wasn't exactly like everyone else. He was barely four when he shifted for the first time. It hadn't been a shock, not even a surprise, he just knew he would be able to do it one day.
He knew he would be better suited to get away in his wolf form, but he needed to make sure the smaller boy followed him. After pulling the other boy to his feet, Vin started leading him towards the door. "We have to run, Red."
Ezra rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Head hurts, Puppy," he mumbled, his other hand safely in Vin's hand.
"I know," Vin replied, looking over his shoulder. "But we have to get away before the bad men see us..." Stumbling after him, Ezra looked back as well. His bottom lip started to quiver. "Want my auntie." Looking around him with shiny green eyes, he looked up at Vin. "Where's my auntie?"
Picking the other up in his arms, Vin started running for the door as fast as he managed. "I'll tell you later," he promised.
"Shut the fuck up!" Garreth was swinging at the younger man, nearly knocking him over. "Just shut up, ok? I have to think... Because of your stupidity we've got two dead bodies on our hands, if they catch us we're going away from life! We..." He stopped in mid-tirade. "The boy. He saw us."
"He did, but stop frettin'. We get rid of him and we're home free... Where is he?" Zeke went to the top of the stairs, looking down. "Garreth, the kid's gone!"
"What? No, there he is, by the door. Aw hell, there's another kid there too, where did he come from?"
"Nevermind." Zeke checked his gun. "We'll take care of them both. Let's go."
The night outside was quiet. Looking around Garreth nodded towards the forest. "The forest. They must have gone into the forest." Checking that the safety was off on his gun, Zeke followed him.
Knowing the forest like the back of his hand, Vin headed for a place to hide rather than trying to outrun the men he knew were following them. He couldn't keep carrying the smaller boy, and together they wouldn't be able to move fast enough to get away. So, he decided, the safest thing would be to hide.
A river was snaking its way through the woods. Only a few yards from them the water made a sharp turn. In the crook of the river bank, a gathering of bushes crouched over each other. Underneath them it was a natural made cave, the dense branches and leaves making it impossible to see anything inside of it from the outside. Hurriedly Vin dragged the other boy towards the bushes. Pushing him in underneath them, he crawled after, the two of them curling up together.
"We have to be very quiet," he whispered to the other. "The bad men are following us, I can hear them not far away." The sharp sound of dry twigs breaking startled both of them, making them seek even closer together.
"Where the hell did they go?"
The rough voice seemed like it was almost on top of them. A small hand found its way into Vin and the older boy held it reassuringly.
"Hell if I know." The other voice was further away. "They're just kids anyway...they won't dare to go back to the house. With any luck, they're well on their way to get lost out there." The howl of a wolf in the distance cut into his words.
"Damned creatures.... Well, let's hope they find the kids if we don't."
"Yeah." A chuckle drifted towards the two boys hiding. "These woods can surely be a dangerous place for little kiddies."
Heavy steps sounded close to them, coming past the bushes. Then they moved on and were soon drowned out by the soft sounds of the river. Vin waited until he was completely sure that they were alone, then he carefully pushed some branches away to be able to look outside. Everything was still. Laying flat on his stomach he pulled himself out. Reaching back inside he helped the other boy out as well. As they were both standing up, looking around, Vin felt unsure of what to do. He wasn't sure if the men were really gone, if they were down-wind his heightened senses wouldn't pick up on them. They couldn't go back to the house and he couldn't go back to Alice and Grady either. The men had hurt Mrs. and Mr. Winston, Vin couldn't risk any harm coming to his own foster parents. That left only one thing. They would need to go into town, and find the sheriff. When the bad men were in jail, then he could go home again. Taking the younger boy by the hand again they started walking in the direction of the city.
Their pace had slowed considerably. The city was still far away, but the hours of walking soon forced them to rest. Stopping, Vin pointed to a rock nearby the water. "We'll rest here for a bit, Red."
The younger boy obediently followed. "Why do you call me that?" he wondered, climbing up on top of the flat rock.
"What? Red?" Vin took a seat next to him, his feet resting on the ground as the pair next to him dangled several inches off the ground. "Because your hair's red, silly." He grinned and ruffled the copper toned hair. "That's why." Taking a closer look at the green eyed boy, he frowned. "You cold?"
"A little... My toes are cold." Said naked toes were wriggled for emphasis. Both of them had on only night clothes and were bare footed. In his wolf state Vin didn't need clothes or shoes, but now, in his human form, the cold was starting to bother him as well. He slipped down form the rock again.
"We should get going. It's soon morning. The city isn't far away now. We're going to be there in no time."
His companion wasn't as eager to continue. "Promise, puppy? I'm tired."
Crossing his fingers behind his back, Vin nodded. "Yeah, I promise." Together they started walking again, neither of them having much energy for conversation.
Another hour later the first rays of the sun was stretching into the sky. Long shadows flittered through the tree tops and the first start of the usual cacophony of birds singing appeared.
Crouching in front of the younger boy, Vin looked into the green eyes. "I'm just going to go look ahead a little, Red. You stay here and wait for me, okay? I won't be long." Getting a serious nod in return, Vin took a step back. In less than a second he had shifted into the wolf, taking off soon as his paws hit the ground. Against the layer of leaves and grass his movements were almost soundless. Soon the small wolf was out of sight behind the lines of trees and undergrowth.
Then a shot rang out. Followed by the whimpering noise of a hurt animal.
"Puppy!" Without thinking Ezra started running, the only thought in his head was that he had to reach his friend. Short legs made their way towards the sound, regardless of what could be waiting for him. Running straight into something, all he cold utter was a strangled gasp as he was lifted up.
"What the hell are you doing out here, kid? I could have shot you!"
Albert Tremayne, Al among friends, stared at the boy. It seemed like the kid hadn't heard him at all. He was struggling of all his might, tears streaming down the small face. "Let me go! Have to get to Puppy!"
"Puppy, huh?" Al stroked his chin, before getting a better grip on the boy. "Ain't no puppies here, son. Just those critters after my sheep. At least there's one of the bastards less to worry about now, hit him good and proper..." At the anguished cry coming from the child, he frowned. "It's alright, kid. You must be lost or something, right? Better get you into town and see if we can't find your parents..." Misinterpreting the lack of fighting now, he grabbed his rifle in one hand and kept a safe grip on the child with the other. "Now now, child, stop your crying. You'll be back with mama in no time, I promise. You can trust old Al."
He had been so excited about seeing houses that he had become careless. He hadn't seen the man with the gun lifted and aimed at him before it was too late. Turning back into his human shape, Vin stared unbelieving at his shoulder. The bullet had gone straight through. It didn't even hurt much, felt more numb than anything. The amount of blood made him dizzy, lightheaded like he had been too long on a roller coaster. Pushing himself up, the world tilted dangerously. The dizzyness made him unable to distinguish between the different sense stimuli. Looking up, the white house next to a small garage seemed at an impossible length. But he had to try. Starting towards it he managed to cover half the distance before he passed out, falling into a small, crumbled heap almost covered in the tall grass.
The roar of a engine not far away didn't reach him.
Al cast another worried glance at the boy next to him in the car. The kid wasn't fighting him anymore, not crying either. It almost seemed like he had given up, eyes staring lifeless ahead. Strange though, he'd never seen that kind of eye colour before. It was nearly bright orange by now, the tears that hadn't fallen yet giving it a illuminent look. Speeding up a little, Al shook his head. He wondered what the whole puppy deal was about as well, suddenly cringing he hoped the greyish creature he'd seen wasn't a dog instead of the wolf he'd thought it was. Better keep quiet about that. He'd tell them he'd found the child by the river. Nobody needed to know about him taking out a few wolves that came to close to his sheep every once in a while. No one would miss them anyway.
Someone else had heard both the shot and the car moving away. Elyse Corbert watched her two German Shepards weave around, eyes and ears perked as they sniffed the air. Giving a small whimper the largest dog scratched at the front gate. As the sounds got more intense she got out of her chair on the porch.
"What's the matter, girl?"
Now both dogs were at the port, whining and scratching. Wondering what had gotten into them, Elyse opened the gate and watched them take off running. Then she followed.