CHAPTER 12 #2
A wolf in Edmund’s likeness formed in her mind.
She poured her focus into it, doing her best to reshape the creature into herself as its fur shifted to silver.
The wolf stared right back at her. Blue eyes—the same shade as hers—bored into her own, as if they were windows for her soul to enter through.
Lenore felt something, like a tiny bud unearthing from the softening ground of winter’s epilogue.
She latched onto that feeling, desperate to connect the passage from her human body to her wolf form.
Her mind raced—her outstretched hand faltering as she began to worry she wasn’t doing this fast enough.
The anxiety of failure seeped in. A tingly cold itch appeared on her right forearm, and her thoughts struggled against the urge to scratch it away.
The wolf became farther away as Lenore’s awareness grew about her own human form.
And then came the fear of turning.
It was as if the air from her lungs had escaped completely, leaving her only to drown in the unknown abyss. Lenore’s eyes flew open, gasping sharply as she clutched her chest.
Edmund’s hackles rose, eyes sharp with concern. As Lenore continued to breathe, she slowly began to calm down. A shadow fell over her face.
Oh no. The sensation she had experienced wilted away rapidly, leaving her alone with yet another failed attempt, and the bitter aftertaste of her fear.
Taking a step closer, Edmund quietly asked, “What happened?”
Lenore slumped forward, resting her cheeks in her hands.
“I’m just not used to... um, well, transforming.
It’s not natural to me at all.” Hesitation held her words back, aware of how vulnerable her thoughts sounded.
“I was human for the past twenty-two years of my life, it’s difficult to not be one all of a sudden.
” She sniffled then squeezed her eyes shut, unprepared for the wave of emotion that followed.
Edmund watched her, his expression unreadable, though something in his rigid demeanor softened—ever so slightly.
“... I see,” Edmund said. It took him a moment to muster up words that made her feel listened to. “You’re doing the best you can. We’ll continue working on this.”
Lenore’s voice wavered. “Even if it’s falling completely short of your standards?”
“Never mind that. We’ve gone far past that point anyway.”
Lenore slowly nodded. She wasn’t sure if she should be thankful or ashamed. In a small voice, she asked, “Can you give me a moment?”
“You can take more than a moment,” Edmund said. He lay down, crossing his front paw over the other.
Lenore’s thoughts took hold of her focus. There had to be something that could help trigger her shift into a wolf. Most importantly, a wolf that still retained her sanity. Her hand absently rubbed the sleeve that covered her scar.
I do think Edmund was right to help me visualize the wolf.
I made more progress than I did before. Lenore cringed when she recalled how long she squeezed her eyes shut over and over, attempting to turn at will.
She looked down at her hands, plainly noting how human she was.
Her fingers gently caressed the skin of her other hand.
Lenore’s head jerked up as a thought dawned on her. For a moment, she resisted voicing it aloud. Her lips pressed tightly together. A faint color of red bloomed upon her cheeks. In a slow and measured tone, she said, “Edmund, I think I have an idea.”
Edmund turned his head toward her.
“Speak,” he said.
“Well,” she took a breath before she quickly said, “I think I should try touching you.” The soft spread of red on her face deepened into an obvious blush when Edmund bolted up. She raised her hands toward him as she stuttered, “H-hear me out!”
“What did you just say?” Edmund’s voice shook as the fur along the back of his neck rose.
“Well, you carried me before!” Lenore’s voice was shrill with embarrassment, but she forced herself to continue.
“S-so it’s not like, well, like we didn’t touch before!
” Her words only made her want to slam her face against a tree trunk.
“I-I just think—I mean, I’m only going to place a hand on you.
I think it’s going to help ground me into what it feels like to be a wolf, if you, um, understand what I’m trying to say...
you know, how a swimmer needs to touch water to swim? ”
For a good minute, Edmund stared at her in agonizing silence. Lenore drew the fabric of her dress tightly into her hands. The heat of her face crawled up to her ears. Unable to handle it much longer, she burst out, “If it makes you uncomfortable then I—”
“I’m just in disbelief at how much help you need to transform,” Edmund interrupted her. His paw pressed itself between his closed eyes. “Come here then,” he mumbled.
Lenore stood up, brushing off bits of bark and moss off her dress as she got close to Edmund. She knelt beside him. “So, um.” She lifted one hand and asked, “Can I just—um, put my hand on you?”
“Just do what you think will help you,” Edmund said. He was completely still, ears erect.
Tentatively, Lenore lowered her hand into his fur.
Her fair skin against the dark tones of his pelt was like a pearl in the depths of the sea.
Edmund’s fur rippled as her fingers ran through the coarse hair.
Despite the lack of softness, a pleasant warmth enveloped Lenore’s hand.
The sensation strangely wove through her body, flaring up the urge to hug him tight.
Worse, she could feel herself wanting to burrow her head against him.
The familiar tug in her chest thrummed under her ribs, like a thread between them, entwining them close.
What is wrong with me? Her brows twitched as she tried to make sense of herself, bewildered by the sudden feeling.
Her heart raced. She kept her gaze away from his face, her cheeks glowing red.
That’s when she caught sight of Edmund’s tail subtly moving from side to side.
Her eyes grew wide. He was undoubtedly, definitely wagging his tail.
Lenore said nothing, too busy trying to shove these confusing emotions aside and attempting to remain focused on trying to shift.
The fast and heavy beat of her heart still rang out in her ears.
A cold sweat nearly broke out on her face as she wrestled against her body’s cries to hold him close.
She sent a silent and desperate plea to the One Above, begging for her sanity.
“Um, Edmund?” she asked.
His tail went still. “Go ahead.” His voice being so calm made Lenore wonder if she was the only one experiencing this.
Clearing her throat, she said, “I-I think it’ll be more effective if I just lie my head on you. You know, just for more... clarity’s sake.” The poor reasoning she gave out made her certain she was about to receive a blunt rejection. Her jaw clenched tightly as she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Alright.” The swift answer sent Lenore’s eyes flying open.
“Really?” she asked incredulously.
“I said alright,” Edmund muttered back sharply. “Do you want me to change my mind?”
“No! I mean, no. I’ll just...” Lenore took a small breath. She patted her cheeks, trying to cool them down. “I’m going to do it now.” She stared down at Edmund’s fur, hovering just above, before she dove in.
Her cheek nestled against Edmund’s thick coat of fur.
The individual strands tickled her skin.
If Edmund had any qualms against this, he didn’t show it.
He was just as still as she was until Lenore slowly shifted to nestle herself more comfortably.
His fur became like a bristled brush, scratching her face with its coarseness.
She hardly cared, for a soothing wave of deep contentment washed over her, calming her heart and mind from the strange tug.
It comforted her deeply, releasing her from the shackles of the fears that held her back.
Her body relaxed. A noise of contentment quietly escaped her lips.
Lenore, too lost in her thoughts, had let down her guard and burrowed her face into the nest of fur for comfort. Immediately, Edmund’s body stiffened. Lenore’s eyes flew open. Panic flooded through every fiber of her being.
“I—sorry! I was sleepy!” Lenore screamed as she jerked herself back. She laughed, trying so hard to play it off as a silly mistake. All she heard was a nervous, uncertain sound that barely passed for a laugh. “I’m still, uh, tired from everything! Exhaustion caught me off guard.”
“You’re unbelievable,” Edmund said quietly. He took a deep breath. “I knew this idea was stupid at best.”
“I’m sorry!” Lenore lowered her head, mostly to avoid him seeing how red she was. “I’m exhausted!” She ran her fingers through her wavy tresses, fidgeting nervously as she further added, “I’ll make it work this time.”
“This time?” Edmund groaned. “I’m about at my wit’s end with you. That’s it, I—”
“No, please, really. I’ll pour everything I have into this,” Lenore pleaded.
Edmund’s ears lowered. His snout wrinkled as he sat there, ruminating on her words. “Fine,” he spat out. “But then that’s it for the touching if it doesn’t work out.”
“Yes, I understand,” Lenore said. She drew close to him once more, more than willing to get this done quickly.
Her hand landed promptly on Edmund’s pelt. Breath held, eyes closed, she waited anxiously for what was to come next. A minute passed. Nothing happened, and relief coursed through her body.
She closed her eyes once more to focus on what needed to be done.
A silver wolf approached her, drawing closer with every step.
Lenore’s hands pressed deep into Edmund.
Her touch absorbed all of what his fur felt like, how different it was from her human skin.
Her fingers gently rubbed back and forth against the rough and bristly fibers.
She focused on that sensation enveloping her, abandoning her own sense of her current body.