Chapitre 5: He Can’t Be Sick Right?
All around the blazing fire, mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers gather in consecutive circles ringing around the center. Both humans and wolves stand together, in heart and soul as we silently watch the flames rise and fall.
In front of me, a pair of wolf children howl in grief. Ralphie places a gentle hand on both their little heads as he initiates an even louder howl. The others respond with similar howls that echo through the vast snow-covered lands.
This is their way of mourning their pack mates. If you're not howling, then you're silently weeping for the lost. No words are spoken because they're not necessary.
After a few hours, the firewood burns out and the pack slowly diverges. Out of respect to the deceased, the pack should return home straight after they finish mourning, leaving those who wish to mourn longer at peace.
When there are only a handful mourners left, I turn to Ralphie who's been wearing the same emotionless expression since we left the tent.
There's not much comfort I know to offer so I give his hand a squeeze. He pulls me closer to him until his massive body shelters me like a cave.
"Can we stay a little longer?" I hear him ask with a distant look in his eyes.
"As long as you need," I whisper through my trembling lips. Ralphie only hugs me tighter.
While we stand alone in the snow, I can't help but feel guilty. I can't shake the idea that none of this would've happened if I didn't run away. If I didn't run, they wouldn't have sent trackers. If there weren't any trackers, then the two completely innocent beings probably would still be here.
How come the vampires can't learn to live like the Wolves? How come they only know how to cause pain? Why do vampires insist on waging war with this wholly innocent clan of people?
I only notice the streaks of water traveling down my frozen cheeks when Ralphie gently wipes them away.
"Will you run with me?"
My blank expression scores a light laugh that restores a bit of life back into Ralphie. In an instant, he shifts into a large gray wolf and bends down. With a tilt of the head he nudges me to climb on.
I would normally refuse, but I couldn't deny his effort to cheer me up when I should be the one doing it for him. Without further hesitation, I throw one leg over his back and sit straight.
Ralphie rises up slowly and the ground beneath seems so far away. He takes a step forward and then back, making sure I am comfortable.
Then we run.
At first, each tiny gallop feels like a leap. I almost fall off a few times, but I learn that if I clamp my legs tightly by his sides, I get a better grip. Just leaning a little forward and lowering my body can reduce the resistance of the wind to almost nothing. When I clasp my hands onto the fur by his neck, my view of everything balances and becomes crystal clear.
And when I'm comfortably looking forward with my head held high, it gives Ralphie the confidence to run with all the energy coursing through his body.
The feeling isn't like anything I've felt before. This isn't like riding a horse or being carried by Abram.
With Ralphie, it's different. With Ralphie, everything is different.
It's as if my arms and legs are the ones pounding on the snow. Where my eyes look, our bodies bring us. The cold around me is but another passing breeze, too light to even graze the heat radiating from our cores. Even our hearts align, beating with life in the silence of night.
Tonight, I realize something about wolves.
They don't run away to hide.
They run to be free.
***
Since that night, I decided that I wanted to learn and become part of Wolf culture. My doubts and thoughts about leaving subsided and I truly began to open my eyes to see the opportunities that I was once denied.
It's almost been two years since then.
And I couldn't be better.
The cold in the winter doesn't bother me as much. I can walk out without looking like a fur mummy every time I need to pay a visit to the town or some friends. Speaking of which, I've made quite a few. I practically know every member living on the same field and the few fields after that. And it shouldn't come as much of a surprise that my newfound best friend is none other than my first enemy—Diane.
In the spring, Ralphie would go out prancing and rolling around in the grass with his friends. He would bring home whatever wild flowers looked nice and give them to me. At first I thought it was for aesthetic purposes, but Diane taught me that they could be used for medicinal benefits as well.
The summer sun always brings out the best in all of the humans. As for the wolves, they couldn't be any hotter. I sometimes have trouble coaxing Ralphie to at least throw on some pants when we go out. But as much as Ralphie sulks in the day, summer nights are to die for.
And now it's autumn. Fall here in Wolf Territory is a beautiful mix of all seasons with the life of spring, the passing heat of the summer, and the approaching cold of Ralphie's favorite—winter.
Soon we'll be migrating out of our autumn residence and returning to our winter home. Since our land is so vast, we occasionally relocate based on the weather temperatures.
But today, it's another hot autumn night much to Ralphie's irritation.
Since Ralphie is a growing boy, it's natural that he has more energy and produces more heat. Therefore, he rationalizes that he has the right to complain more especially during any season other than winter. I don't know how much of that is true, but it is true that Ralphie is getting bigger.
He used to be pretty tall for his age, but he probably shot up another few inches since then. His shoulders are broader than it was originally. If he was a giant back then, then he must be a giant of giants now. Even among the wolves, he's one of the bigger ones.
The changes in his body becomes scarier when he turns into Lycan. Just the other day, Alpha Simon wanted to build something and Ralphie was available to gather wood. So we went into the forest and I watched him ram into a three-hundred feet tree and the only thing I felt sorry for was the tree because it immediately snapped near the base.
But that was some time ago. Right now, Ralphie is grumbling about the heat again. He's not exactly being vocal about it, but he's whining under his throat. In the time I've been here, I picked up the different pitches and tones of the limited, but expressive wolf language.
Diane told me that the more familiar we are with a wolf, the easier it is for us to pick up communication. Sometimes, humans can communicate with wolves better than wolves can. It's all about how much we understand the other party.
I've been told I'm learning incredibly fast from a few of my friends, but that's probably all thanks to Ralphie's constant use of his native language. Sometimes he uses it to comment on the weather. But more often, he would just brag about me though I still don't know how he can conjure up so many things to praise. It gets so embarrassing sometimes that I just pretend I don't understand.
"It's so HOT!" Ralphie whines as he tosses his head to the other side. "Hot...too hot...why so hot..." he whimpers.
"If it's so hot, we don't have to sleep together all the time," I mumble, not too excited about being awakened.
"It's not that hot," he says as he puts his head back down in defeat.
I don't understand why he's so insistent that we sleep together all the time. We just lie next to each other everyday and sleep. I know it's practical in the winter to stay warm, but all other seasons, there's really no reason to.
It's not that I don't like Ralphie next to me. In fact, nothing beats waking up to his smile every morning. We occasionally get into fights, but we never fall asleep with our backs turned against each other. So in a sense, sleeping next to each other means as much to me as to him.
But it seems like he's enduring so much more than he needs to.
"Ralphie."
He usually turns to face me, but this time he lies still. I call his name again and when he doesn't respond, I reach out a hand to feel his forehead. Much to my horror, his skin is burning like a hot kettle. My instincts retract my hand before I even process what's happening.
He can't be sick right?
"Ralphie?"
No response. Not even a whine.
"Are you feeling okay?"
I doubt he even heard me as his breathing shortens into quick pants. What do I do? Do I give him a blanket or not? He's heating up, but if it's a fever, I can't let him catch a cold. And as always, he's not wearing anything to keep warm.
My heart races as I panic about what to do. Unlike our winter home, our autumn home is situated further away from other families. The closest neighbor is at least a mile or two away. And during this time of year, many wolves go out hunting and don't even return home. If they aren't home, I might need to travel even further to locate help.
What do I do?
Usually to even get anywhere around here, I ride with Ralphie. If I leave him, there's no guarantee that I can find help in time. If I don't, I'm not sure how to take care of him.
Ralphie always looks so healthy and lively that it's difficult to picture him ever getting sick. How did this happen?
Looking outside, the pitch darkness reminds me of what Ralphie warned me against many times. There are dangerous creatures lurking around that like to come out at night. Our pack's rules require us to travel in groups to hunt or protect against them.
However, Ralphie's Lycan status made us a rare exception. Nevertheless, it is still dangerous to wander in the night. But as long as we stay within our vicinities, we should be safe.
Every logical cell in my body is telling me to stay, but one glance at a trembling Ralphie is enough to have me running out and into the dark wilderness awaiting me.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
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