Chapter One #2
Each building housed a different business: from restaurants and cafés – whose enticing smells nearly dragged me through the front door – to enchanting little trinket shops with some of the most beautiful treasures I’d ever seen.
I strolled from storefront to storefront, lingering by the display windows in an awestruck state that definitely made me stand out from the humans.
I couldn’t help myself – we didn’t have such intricate items on our simple little island.
One store was full of wood carvings, from chairs and tables to little dioramas and even children’s toys. But the carved animals were my favorite. They were all native to Maine: bears, squirrels, foxes, raccoons, and moose. Lots of moose.
The interior smelled of freshly cut wood; a sharp, sour, yet pleasant scent that nearly made me dizzy with nostalgia. I prayed I’d find pine forests on the mainland that were as beautiful as the ones on Hollenboro.
Another shop was full of glistening silver jewelry, each necklace and bracelet containing a frosty-looking blue stone that reminded me of the ocean on calm days.
The shop owner kindly explained the stones were seaglass – pieces of broken glass that had been smoothed and weathered by the ocean over time.
I held up a tiny piece attached to a bracelet, rubbing its semi-opaque surface with my thumb.
They were magnificent, and I desperately wanted one. As if wearing something created by the ocean was the same as owning a piece of it.
My eyes darted back to the owner – a kind older woman with short, puffy blonde hair. She smiled, and I could sense her warm, friendly demeanor. I bit my lip with contemplation.
I can buy it, right? These items are for sale. I’ve seen other humans buy items at stores, although I have no idea how the bartering process works in their world…
“Um, I’d like to purchase this, please,” I declared in a near-whisper as I gingerly placed the bracelet on the counter. Navigating this unfamiliar task made me feel so small and meek, like a young child asking the grown-ups for a favor.
“Alright, sweetheart.” The woman smiled. She tapped a few buttons on a device and adjusted a thin pair of glasses on a beaded chain around her neck. “That will come out to $78.19.”
Seventy… eight… nineteen? Seventy-eight nineteen what?
I certainly don’t have that many scones…
Reaching into my satchel, I dug around until I felt a brush of thin linen fabric. I pulled out a small tan drawstring bag and unraveled the twine keeping it closed. Inside were six blueberry scones that I made fresh that morning. Before I got the news that forced me to leave Hollenboro.
I had no idea how much a scone was worth, but there was only one way to find out.
I pulled one out, taking a moment to admire how light and flaky it was; molded into a perfect triangle with a fluffy center and crisp edges.
The blueberries dotting the scone were dark and syrupy, and it looked so delicious I was tempted to forgo this transaction and scarf down the pastry on a bench outside.
I gulped as my stomach rumbled – I was really hungry.
“Oh, uh…” The lady stammered, rising from her stool behind the counter. She clearly had no idea why I was handing her a scone, and my face burned red with embarrassment. “Those look lovely, dear. Do you, uh, want to pay with cash or card?”
I turned away, bolting out of the shop with scorching cheeks and shattered confidence before I could even ask what “cash or card” meant.
Even once I made it outside and back on the main road, I kept running.
I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t care if anyone thought my behavior was suspicious.
The sun was beginning to set, and the once warm, inviting town now seemed rigid and sinister.
With the rapidly fading light, the bright buildings were losing their color, and the leering eyes of the Halloween decorations were now glowing a bright yellow.
During the day, the crisp chill of autumn air had been kept in check by the warmth of the sun. It was cold but tolerable. Now, with the sun gone, it was just cold.
I ducked between two buildings, rubbing my long-sleeve shirt with my palms to help warm my freezing arms and get rid of my goosebumps. A sharp breeze flew in from the water and swept through the alleyway, forcing me to crouch down and fold in on myself to keep warm.
In my wolf form, I’d be a lot less cold.
But I had to get out of this town first.
I gulped down a few long, deep breaths. It was almost cold enough for my exhales to trail through the air like rolling fog.
Normally, filling my lungs with air calmed me down. It grounded me. But now, even the deep chill of the night air couldn’t cool off the burning pressure building inside me. My insides felt like a tea kettle, screeching and whistling as it let off steam over a roaring fire.
I can’t do this… I can’t do this…
My stomach lurched and my limbs tingled with the familiar sensation of losing control. Of letting the wolf within me break through and embracing my wild nature. But it disappeared in less than a second, and when I dared to open my eyes, I was still in my human form.
Until my ear twitched.
My very not-human ear.
I raised my shaking fingertips toward my head, my skin prickling in anticipation of what I would find.
It’s okay.
Everything is fine.
Everythi-
My fingers touched fur. Soft, velvety, red fur, coating the wolf ears that now popped out of my human head.
I buried my face in my knees and fought back a scream. I managed to not draw attention from the humans passing by, but a new problem quickly arose.
In addition to my ears, I now had a tail.
Bright-red, bristly fur poked out from my dress – without tearing it, thanks to the inherent magic in a werewolf’s shifting abilities – and trailed down my lower back, ending just above my knee.
I gave a quick shake to make sure it was real.
To confirm this was actually happening and not some anxiety-riddled dream.
In my twenty-one years of life, I’d never had issues controlling my shifts. Even as a little girl, I mastered the art of balancing childhood and puppyhood long before my younger sisters. My wolf was part of me.
Normally, changing forms was as simple as breathing. But with my current anxiety, that bodily function was now out of control.
How can this be happening?
My neck craned toward the sky. It was a murky greyish-blue, shrouded by thick clouds, but I was certain there wasn’t a full moon; the only time werewolves did lose control of their abilities.
Plus, if it had been a full moon, I would’ve already fully shifted into wolf form – wild, frenzied, and ravenous with hunger.
This was different. I’d never heard of a werewolf getting stuck mid-transformation. And to escape this town, I had to find a way to shift back into a human.
I crawled further down the alleyway, so my body was almost entirely cloaked by shadows, and waited.
As the night grew darker, the air grew colder. Anxious shivering became chilly shivering, and blood pounded in my neck, trailing up my jawline until I could hear my pulse in my ears. At least twenty minutes passed, but my heartbeat never slowed, and my ears and tail were still visible.
I gathered my fluffy red tail into my lap and ran my fingers through my fur.
The top layer was bristly and frosted with bits of brown and black, while my undercoat was a soft greyish cream that felt plush under my fingertips.
It was incredibly warm – I wished I could shift completely and feel my fur coat snug against my skin like a blanket.
Then I’d run out of this damn human town and seek safety in the pine forest.
I peeked out the alleyway. There were still humans lurking around, which I found odd since they didn’t have night vision like I did. Too many humans to plan an escape.
I groaned, leaning against the wall and resting my head against the cool siding. I needed a plan, otherwise I would be stuck hiding in this human town all night in a vulnerable half-wolf state.
Craning my neck, I glanced around the corner again. The building I was leaning against was a tiny shack squeezed between two larger restaurants. It was single-story, painted a dark navy-blue, and had a large wraparound porch jammed full of clothing racks.
As I crept closer, I noticed it was very unusual clothing. At least, for humans it was. To me, the clothing was similar to what we werewolves wore on Hollenboro. Perched in front of the porch, next to the mailbox, was a chipped wooden sign that read Mainely Mystical Wares .
I let out an audible snort. Not only had I seen far too many Maine puns in this town, but it was a bold move for a witch to be openly selling their goods in the midst of human society.
The porch was dark, which gave me enough cover to hide my ears and tail as I rifled through the clothing. Racks full of corsets, cloaks, and even pointy witch hats, which at first made me feel sick to my stomach.
Then I remembered. It’s October. The one time of year where magical beings don’t get persecuted for peddling their goods.
I stood on the tips of my toes, peering over the display racks and through the shop’s lattice front windows.
The interior was lit with warm orange candles, and the shelves were jammed full of statues, crystals, and herbs.
My ears perked up, and amidst the Celtic folk music and muffled conversation, I heard the distinct rustling footsteps of a lone customer.
Footsteps that were getting very close to the front door.
It was mere seconds until they would walk outside and spot me.
I wracked my brain for answers. My shaking hands scrambled through the rack until I found the item I’d been admiring earlier – a thick chocolate-brown cloak.
It was long enough to hide my tail, and had a large hood to cover my ears.
I could sneak past the humans and flee this town without being caught.
My stomach soured. I hated stealing. Growing up on a small island, we always took care of each other, treating one another with as much kindness and respect as possible.
Not only did we need to work together to survive, but everyone knew everyone else’s business.
If someone stole something on the island, it wouldn’t stay stolen for long.
But here, my safety was at risk. I didn’t know how human society would react if they caught a werewolf snooping around, and I didn’t want to find out.
I ripped the cloak off the rack, causing its plastic hanger to go flying across the porch, and sprinted down the main road just as the front door to the witch’s shop cracked open.
They would find the hanger on the porch and know something had been stolen. Even in my human form, I had far more strength and speed than non-magical beings. After a few minutes of running, I was already almost back to the pier, struggling to wrangle the stolen cloak over my head.
Once it was finally on, I breathed a sigh of relief. The cloak was made of a thick, fuzzy material, and its warmth immediately calmed the uncomfortable goosebumps dotting my skin.
With my ears and tail now covered – they still hadn’t disappeared, damn them – I could walk calmly down the dark waterfront, blending in among the few pedestrians braving the chilly sea air to admire the ocean.
The further I went, the fewer bits of human society I saw, until I was mostly surrounded by pine forest. As I walked, my only company was the occasional passing car or cabin porch light.
It was rural. Quiet. Just like Hollenboro.
Without the streetlamps and storefronts illuminating the night sky, I was surrounded by nearly pitch-black darkness.
A deep nausea sank into my gut when I realized that despite my wolfish senses, I was lost. On Hollenboro, I knew the forests and beaches and jagged rock coastlines as well as I knew myself.
I could close my eyes and tell exactly where I was just by the scent on the wind.
But here was uncharted territory. I had night vision and a superior sense of smell, yet I knew nothing of this area or what awaited me deeper in the woods.
I raised my nose just as an autumn breeze – as sharp and biting as a wolf’s teeth – swept across my face and made my cloak billow gently behind me. My fluffy red tail peeked out between my layers of clothing, and I sighed, closing my eyes and inhaling the scent of the wind.
Salt and sea, mixed with autumn and pine.
It was perfect.
Maine would always be special to me, no matter what part of the world I ended up in. I would find a way to not just survive, but thrive.
I had to.
Because there was no returning to the fate that awaited me on Hollenboro.
I checked for onlookers, ensured all my goods were packed away, and shrugged off my human form for fur, teeth, and claws. It happened in an instant, a metamorphosis so quick and fluid it was hard to catch the details.
I shook my thick fur coat and adjusted my feet. I was much shorter now, on four swift legs instead of two, with my clothes and other belongings magically tucked away for when I would eventually shift back into my human form.
But for now, my humanity was gone. I was no longer a magical runaway. Instead, I was just an ordinary wolf in a pine forest, in desperate need of a cozy den and a fresh rabbit meal.
I took off at a fast canter through the woods. It was thick, dark, and dense, with the bristly trunks of pine trees clouding my vision. I wove through them with ease, not so much as scraping my fur on their bark.
I felt at peace.
Even if this wasn’t my forest.
But tonight wasn’t the time to worry about long-term plans. I’d find food and shelter, get some rest, and make more important decisions in the morning.
Tonight, I was just a wolf in the woods.
One that wasn’t running away from her fate.