“Why are we landing?” I asked a sailor. We were nearing in on a cluster of small islands.  “We’re low on supplies. We’ll just be docking here for a day, and then we’re back on course.” I was excited. I enjoyed being on a boat, but I still wanted dry land. I got dressed in an old T-shirt, jeans, and a belt, and I ran upstairs. Don was half asleep and rubbing sleep out of his eye, and Ace was drinking a small mug of coffee that said, “world’s best  son.” he saw me staring at it, scowled, and turned the cup around. “It was a gift,” he said.

James’ arm was getting better, as he no longer needed the sling. Surprisingly, the oldest and the youngest of the group (James and I) were the most eager to get on land and do stuff. He had more energy than even me. As soon as we docked, we jumped on land and ran into town. It was a small port town, with brick buildings and a marketplace. We immediately ran to the market, which was already busy even though it was morning, and started looking at stuff. Mainly magazines (which were imported from Lernalaban and one of them even had a picture of Ace on it) and other stuff. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw people staring at me. “James,” I hissed through my teeth, “Why the hell are people looking at me? Do I look weird?” “I dunno, uh.... maybe cuz of your clothes?” “No, cuz they’re not staring at you or Ace or Don.... Omigod! My eyes!!” I hissed in fear.

I grabbed a magazine, payed for it, and hid my face. “Dude!! Why didn’t you tell me my eyes were still all silvery?” “I dunno! They’re your eyes, not mine!” “I can’t see my own damn eyes, stupid!” “Don’t call me stupid just because you don’t have a mirror!” “Neither do you!” I don’t need one!” our whispered argument had drawn many nosy eyes to us, and, despite my attempts to hide them, more and more people saw my eyes. I wasn’t sure why they were silvery, all I knew was that it looked strange. As we walked through the streets, I began to just ignore the looks from the people. But then an old woman walked up to me and scared the crab out of me. She walked up to me and, with long, spidery fingers, snatched the magazine out of my hands and threw it to the floor. She grabbed my chin and stared at my face, examining it. “Uh, excuse me, lady? That’s kinda my face...” but she hissed and began screaming. “Why do you bring them here?! We have our own problems without THEM here!! Get off get off!!! Corna Vhan has no need for you!! Get away, get away!!” she rambled and ran away screaming. “Okaaaayy... that was weird...” James said. “Yeah, and it hurt too. What’s her problem?” I asked as I rubbed my sore chin. “Meh. There are tons a crazies out there,” Ace said as he sipped the coffee again. “Ya just hafta find em.”  But as I walked down the street, more and more people were staring. And not like, “oh, that’s strange” kinda staring, stares of hate. They wanted to kill me. I knew it from the way they circled me. “Uh, James?” “I know, I’m just ignoring em...” but soon they surrounded us. “Uh, heh heh... James...” “I know,” he said through clenched teeth. “Just keep walking...” but soon we were stopped. A thin, wispy man with no hair walked up to us. He was dressed in an all black suit, and he had a blue-green robe over it. He was an Old Truist priest. “Uh, excuse me,” I said as I tried to get by. But he stopped me. “Child,” he said quietly. “Uh, yeah?” I answered. “What sinful torment you must have been going through to bear such a terrible curse,” he said quietly. People on this island like speaking oddly, I figured out. “What?” “Did your mother fornicate with one of Imbroloth’s children?” he asked earnestly. “WHAT?!!” I shouted at him. How could he say that? He was a goddamn priest! “Well, what did you do to inherit such a terrible burden, child?” “What burden? What are you talking about?” “Come, child. To be forgiven. Follow me.” I didn’t want to, but we had no choice. I soon lost sight of Ace or Don, since the crowd seemed to be trying to push us into following the priest. The Truists, as I once was one, were strange and extremely strict, but they were never like this. These people were crazy.

 “James, call Don and tell him to get us the hell outta here!!” “How am I supposed to call him?!” “I DUNNO!!! SCREAM!!!” but it was too late. I lost track of him, too.  The man led us to the shore, and spread the people out on the beach. As if he were about to perform a sermon. But he turned around, and told two men to hold me steady. He unsheathed a knife. “Oh god oh god....” I repeated. He first washed it in ocean water and then walked toward me over the sand. “Child, what is the reason for your affliction?” he said calmly. “What the hell are you talking about?!” “You know. The reason for your blank, soulless eyes. Your palid, sinful and guilty face. Your icy and evil demeanor.” “Hey, I can understand why my eyes might freak you out, but-” I was silenced by a smash over my head by the butt of the knife. “Silence, child.” my head throbbed and I saw stars. I would’ve collapsed but my arms were held in place by three large, brutish people. “Oww!! That hurt!” I shouted. He held the knife above his head, and began to chant. “You people are freaking crazy! Lemme go!! Lemme go!” I screamed, but no one listened. There was something wrong with these people. Truist were zealots, but they would never try to sacrifice anyone. With one hand, he held my head up revealing my bare neck. I cringed as he cold steel stung my skin and tore through my throat. My neck exploded with pain, and I gasped for air that wasn’t there. I immediately felt a calm  release of pain, expecting death. But all I felt was a blinding flash of white, and I swore inside. I had to run. Far away, as soon as I changed. Because I wouldn’t be lupius. I would be lycan. They dropped me, and I fell down to the sand. I felt precious blood seep into the ground, and I tried with every ounce of strength to get up and run. But I couldn’t. My muscles ached and tore. I was changing. My whole body hurt, but this time, as it was my first full encounter with death and pain so it would turn me into a real lycan, my mind hurt the most. My human side, the primate side, was being shoved into the back of my mind by sometyhing much more powerful. It made me want to run. That was the most poewerful urge that the thing was giving me. Run. Run now, run be free run run run run run just over and over. And my body followed. My bones cracked, my insides shifted and churned. My skin began to crawl, my spine extended, and my feet grew and snapped. Soon, hair began to shoot out of my skin. The shifting and cracking of bones blocked my hearing, but I was almost certain they were running and screaming, afraid of me. But when my eyes opened, primal instincts blocking my judgement more than ever, I saw the priest. Watching me. And the flood of memories, from what I cannot say, came rushing back to me. I was on the ground, but I no longer had hands. I had paws. I didn’t realize it, but lycans were similar to actual wolves in anatomy. But I was much, much bigger. I rose to my forepaws, my head facing down. I could still feel the tattered rags of my clothes hanging from me. The slit in my throat had healed, stitched by an unseen thread and needle, and I could breathe perfectly. I was not vicious, my mind, anyway. I had no thirst for blood, like I thought I would. I saw the priest, and jumped at him. Although I did not wish to, he needed to be punished for my almost-death. I was silent, the only sound the gasp of the priest. I dug my enormous canine teeth into his neck, clamped down, and turned. A spray of blood from his jugular and a howl from the man rang out, and with that, I spat the throat of the man out, hating the guilt that came with his death, and I ran but before I did, I buried my nose in his hair and silently apologized. In my mind, we were even. I had spared him of his insanity (which he did have, I’m not sure how I knew, but I could smell it). It felt good to run. As I told you, I had memories from a time I cannot remember, and I wondered if they were my father’s. but they were not words, exactly. They were more like feelings. Like, as I ran, my large eyes shut, feeling a peace I long for even to today. I ran past the town, people screaming, me looking like a blur as I shot by them. When I got to the valleys that lay beyond, I felt good. I remembered pictures. I remembered running fondly. I was not sure where I was running, only that I was, and running felt good. But soon I stopped and turned. They were afraid of me. I remembered this, too. They were readying themselves to hunt for me. To kill me. I had simply done my retribution to the man, I did not feel good about it. He had killed me, so I killed him. It was an even correspondence between him and I. No one else. Why did they need to get involved? I have done nothing to them, and I would not have killed that man if he had not done so to me, first. So I ran again. Into the valleys that were past the town. There were only a little trees, but mainly the large green, never-ending pasture of the valleys. The sea wind felt unfamiliar to the entity inside me, wether it was wolf, human, or something else. It felt unfamiliar, but good. It also felt good, for my primate side, to have fur again. My mind was confused. What was I? A wolf? A primate? A lupius? I had no idea what to think. I soon realized, I couldn’t be both. I had to pick one. But not now. Now I had an angry mob to worry about. I could kill them, easily, I was at least twice the size of a regular wolf. But, I realized, I had a deepening loneliness already. Wolves weren’t meant to be alone. It wasn’t right. I was supposed to be with someone. Anyone. But my ears perked up at the sound of distant angry roars from the village. As I heard them, a great, billowing sadness filed me. I almost cried. I felt one of the greatest feeling of sadness I had ever experienced. And the voice inside me wept. Why.... why....  I felt bad for it. Because I felt it, too. I shut my eyes and tried to remember what it did. I saw... a cub. A wolf cub. Or at least it’s silhouette. It was on the ground in an awkward position. Not moving. I saw fire. And men. Holding the fire, somehow. They had done this. They had buried the steel into the cub’s -my son’s- heart. I was overtaken in my thought as I voice thought with me. The cub was it’s son. I saw, or felt, running. Horrible, unbearable running. Not the kind I enjoyed, a terrible kind that took my soul. I wanted to go back, I wanted to go back with every ounce in my body. To say goodbye, goodbye to him, one last time... or to punish the ones who did this. A rage built inside me. A hate. An unfairness. The unfairness, that they thought they had the right to take a life. To take a life for no concern, no reason. Simply to kill. In spite. In spite of me. But I could not go back. I envied the dogs, my almost blood relatives, who they loved. The humans loved them, fed them, trained them. They pet them, held them. I longed for that kind of care, from anyone. But I had to be strong. This was the price I paid for freedom. But the most sickening part, was that they trained the dogs to kill me. To hunt me down. I had done nothing to either of them, but the dog’s overwhelming hunger and lack of self-control and ignorance, what separated us, had fueled their pact. The dogs would obey unquestioningly, while they got food in return. This was just an annoyance, but they had killed him. Killed my son. Killed one of the only people I cared for, one of the only people left that I loved. The entity inside me had complex thought. Really complex. I opened my eyes, leaving those memories to be uncovered another time. But for now, I needed to run. And so I did. As I ran, I head shouts. They saw me. Well, if there were some damn tress, maybe they wouldn’t, but this is what I had to deal with. I heard galloping, a pounding against the earth. They had horses. The humans were cheating. Again. Had they no honor, or sense of fairness? I was escaping with my life with only what I had been born with. They were using another animal. It wasn’t fair! I could hear them closing in. They had thrown a heavy pitchfork, but it had shuddered to the ground as I ran. But, I realized, if I looked past what they were doing to gain an unfair advantage, I realized they had a right. In a way. Thy could not understand the subtle balance. In fact, I realized, even I didn’t. I shouldn’t have killed him, and for that, I apologized to them. But still, that was the past. I looked behind me and realized that only three of them were on horses, the rest on foot.  Good. That’ll make it easy. I doubled back, running around them. They were no longer near their precious town. They were centered in the valley, and if they tried to leave the group, they would think I’d pick them off. So they’ll stay nice and packed together, and that gave me time to run back. The men on horses were the leaders, and no way they could catch up. Or at least, that what the voice inside me told me to do. I ran around them, keeping them at a distance. I  ran past them, and into town. where do I go now? I asked the voice.  Fight.  What? Why? Because. You have every reason to. Stay away from them, and if they still follow you, attack them back. But do not charge them. Wait. If they cannot find you, they will split up. There, you can either pick them off one by one or make a distraction to all of them and board your boat silently. It’s your choice. Thanks! don’t mention it. I still wasn’t sure who or what was talking to me, but I wasn’t sure of a lot of stuff right now. I was a wolf, for God’s sake! But I had to trust the voice. It seemed to know this body better than I did. And with an angry mob driven by religious hate behind me that seemed to be getting bigger and bigger, I needed all the help I could get.