blood moon
“Stay at a distance,” Enid’s father said to Wednesday, wrapped in a white bathrobe. “The first few minutes are painful and confusing for the cubs. Once we’re all lucid, you can approach. Just keep the wolfsbane close.”
“I can handle myself,” Wednesday assured. She watched the rest of Enid’s family wrapped in similar garb, probably to keep their decency before the big shift.
“Usually, one of us will shift back before the rest of us to get something to cover up, but since you’re here, that makes it easier,” Murray Sinclair grinned. “It’s usually around the sunrise, but I suspect that our midnight hours are yours as well.”
Enid stood the furthest away from the group, barefoot and shivering a little from the cold. She was wrapped in a similar robe, and she pulled it closer to her as she paced.
She caught Wednesday’s eyes on her, a shaky grin appearing on her face as she stretched out an arm to give her a thumbs up. Wednesday nodded in response, the dip of her head almost imperceptible, but Enid seemed to notice it, nodding in kind.
The moon was rising fast, and the sky was already dark. There were no stars. Enid had told her as much, but it was different hearing about a dark, smoky sky than actually seeing it. The rest of the werwolf pack was stretching, preparing their howls and yips before their shift to ease the impending pain.
And, like clockwork, the moon appeared. Wednesday covered her ears as the pack let out a distorted howl as they shifted. Thing crawled onto her shoulder, almost a reassurance that this was real.
It was beautiful, the snaps and cracks of bone reshaping itself like drumbeats without music, but there was something wrong with it.
Wednesday had always been one to take pleasure in pain (even her own), but as she watched Enid’s transformation, something in her stomach twisted, and not in the good way.
She’d never liked seeing Enid in pain, and this was no different.
Wednesday circled around the pack, noting that Enid’s parents had already shifted and were encouraging their other children as they followed. Perhaps it got easier over time, Wednesday thought to herself. As Wednesday neared the other side of the forest, still at a begrudgingly distant space between her and the werewolves, she heard Enid’s whimpering.
A sob ripped through Enid’s body as her limbs elongated with the sound of shifting bone and muscle, and Wednesday moved towards her before Thing squeezed her shoulder to keep her distance.
“Non posso sedermi qui e guardarla soffrire,” Wednesday muttered, but stepped back as Enid continued her grisly transformation. Her brothers had shifted by this point, and they approached Enid, nudging her with their noses to try and encourage her to move as her face morphed to that of a wolf’s.
Wednesday looked away. She knew Enid wouldn’t have wanted her to watch.
When Enid’s whimpers subsided, Wednesday turned back. Enid lifted herself off the ground and shook herself off, the tips of her fur shades of pink and blue. The size difference between her and her family was startling to Wednesday, with Enid’s body much larger than her siblings.
Perhaps it’s just a werewolf thing, she thought, and waited a few more moments before approaching the pack of werewolves.
Enid noticed her, bounding over and stopping as soon as she smelled the wolf’s bane vial Wednesday carried, her ears flattening and her lip curling in disgust. Her eyes held disappointment, but (regrettably, according to Wednesday) she kept her distance.
The disappointment was short-lived, however, because one of Enid’s still-noticeably-smaller brothers ran into her side, bowling her over with a yip of what could only be perceived as playfulness. Enid growled, batting the other werewolf with an oversized paw only to be climbed onto by her other brothers.
Enid’s parents only watched their antics with rolling eyes, looking over at Wednesday to see if she was still alright before howling once more for their pack. Esther Sinclair, noticeable by her salt-and-pepper fur, led the werewolves away from the house to deeper in the woods. She turned to flick her head back at Wednesday, an invitation to join them.
Wednesday nodded, walking alongside the hulking figures of Enid’s parents as Enid and her brothers roughhoused with each other, racing and wrestling in front of them.
“Enid’s bigger than the others,” she remarked to Murray, the red of his fur a clear indication of who he was. The werewolf looked down at her with amber eyes, as if trying to translate her words in his head, before flicking his snout up to the moon with a soft chuff.
“The blood moon?” Another huff of breath. Wednesday understood.
Enid had shifted during the blood moon for the very first time. It made sense that her constitution was different than that of other werewolves who’d shifted under normal moons. Perhaps her size wasn’t the only thing different about her. She noticed her reprimanding her brothers as they crashed into trees with only her stark-blue eyes, her brothers bowing their heads as she snarled an order.
“Is she going to be the next pack leader?” Wednesday asked, but Murray’s reaction was indiscernible. He looked like he was about to nod, then about to shake his head, but decided against it once he glanced at his mate next to him. Perhaps he didn’t really know. Esther Sinclair was the alpha and she’d have that information, but Wednesday knew she wasn’t privy to it.
Enid howled to the moon, voice cracking slightly as she did so. The rest of the pack joined in, and Wednesday’s hands found their way over her ears once more.
--
Wednesday had stood at the edge of a clearing, one where the moon was in full view without the obstruction of trees. It was large and grassy, a clear skies where smoke used to be.
Murray had glanced at Wednesday and then the ground she stood on, a signal that she should stay put as they played, and Wednesday obliged. She wasn’t one for hikes without any bears or snakes. She had taken the moment to settle on the grass and observe, so now she sat with a journal to take notes for her newest novel as Enid and her siblings threw one another to the ground in play-fights.
Enid’s fur was beautiful. Wednesday had only really seen it when she was being rescued from a bloodthirsty monster, but seeing her so… in her element was interesting. Her fur shone in the moonlight, starkly golden under the red moon. It seemed coarse and unrefined, wild and free. Wednesday had to clench her jaw to prevent the upward quirk of her lip when she batted one of her brothers away without even looking at him.
It stayed like that for a few moments, but there was a sudden shift in Enid as the moon started to sink. Her parents had just returned from a hunt, fresh deer meat hanging from their jaws as their offspring bound toward them for the feast… but not Enid. She lifted her head, sniffing the air as her ears flattened against her head. Wednesday heard a soft growl as Enid looked around at her family before taking off in the opposite direction.
It was only thanks to luck and and hours of reaction time training with a guillotine that forced Wednesday to grab onto Enid’s tail as she ran, causing the werewolf to slow her pace as she felt Wednesday clamber onto her back.
Enid growled, annoyed as she tried to shake her off.
“Where are you going?” Wednesday hissed, situating herself between powerful shoulder blades to keep from being thrown off the werewolf. She watched Thing crawl out of her backpack, confused. Enid merely raised her head once more, seeming to hear something Wednesday couldn’t, and decided that Wednesday could handle herself enough to start sprinting into the woods.
It was exhilarating. Enid basically flew past trees and rocks, her tail stabilizing her and providing a counterbalance as she swerved to avoid any obstacles in her path. Wednesday couldn’t help but bark out a laugh as she held on tighter, throwing her head back to feel the wind on her face. A part of her hoped that Enid couldn’t hear over the wind whistling in her ears.
As quickly as the running started, Enid stopped, trotting urgently by a tree with low branches.
She coughed, and Wednesday heard something reshaping in Enid’s throat, snapping and crackling. Enid coughed a few more times, suddenly hacking out words.
“Get. Off,” she growled, the undertone of a snarl but the unmistakable voice of Enid Sinclair, if only for a moment. She rasped another word before her vocal chords reshaped back to growls and yips.
“Please.”
Wednesday looked at Enid’s back once more, but obliged. She knew that Enid would just reach back and put her in the tree, but, as tempting as that sounded, the desperation in her voice sent a little shudder of caution through Wednesday. She clambered onto one of the low hanging branches, setting her feet in place so that she could climb to Enid’s eye level.
They stared at each other, human brown eyes meeting werewolf blue.
Enid looked scared, but her eyes were authoritative. Stay here or you’ll face the consequences.
“What are you doing?” Wednesday pressed, but they were both interrupted by an arrow to Enid’s shoulder.
Enid grunted in pain, and Wednesday watched as Enid ran forward, climbing a high tree and knocking a person down. They yelled something at Enid, but she just shook it off and stepped on the person’s throat. Wednesday heard the satisfying gargle of the person choking on their own blood before Enid moved to another tree, doing the same with another person who fell out of it, this time appearing to be a woman.
Before Enid could land the killing blow, the woman pulled out a knife, stabbing it through Enid’s leg. Enid yelped, and Wednesday was about to jump out of the tree she was in before Enid ripped the woman’s throat out with her jaws.
Wednesday was sure she’d never seen anything so beautiful.
More people appeared from the sidelines, wielding crossbows before Enid swiped the weapons out of their hands and sent them running.
“Cara mia,” Wednesday murmured, watching as Enid snarled to scare away the people that dared stay. “You’re protecting them.”
—
The fight lasted minutes, but it felt like an eternity.
Enid felt the pain in her shoulder from the silver arrowhead digging into her skin, and she growled in frustration. Silver prevented her from healing too quickly, but the knife wound had already stitched itself back up. It wouldn’t leave too many scars for her parents to see. The arrow, on the other hand…
Wednesday’s eyes were wide as she clung to the tree branch Enid left her on. Knowing her, she was probably enjoying this.
As the moon sunk lower in the sky, Enid could feel her power waning. The pull to the moon was high, and it took most of Enid’s focus to keep in control of her body before it shifted back. Her parents had probably brought her brothers home without her; she’d already told her mother enough times that she’d be fine herself. An arrow to the shoulder would mean trouble, however, so Enid approached Wednesday, licking her lips of the coppery blood she’d spilled.
“You’re protecting them,” Wednesday reached out a timid hand to caress Enid’s coarse fur as she stalked closer. Surprised by the initiation of contact from the girl, Enid found herself drawn to the touch, pressing her head into Wednesday’s palm.
Wednesday’s hands were warm, her face flushed from the cold as she looked Enid over, the werewolf’s tail softly wagging behind her. Enid turned to show Wednesday the arrow wound.
“I can’t pull this out,” Wednesday shook her head. “As someone who’s been shot before, it’s not good to—”
Enid lined the arrow up with the valley of a tree branch and tugged, the arrow sliding cleanly out of her shoulder. Enid whimpered slightly at the movement, but the discomfort of silver in her body immediately subsided.
“Enid,” Wednesday grit, but Enid didn’t really find it in her to care. The wound would stitch itself up within the hour, and Enid didn’t have the time for Wednesday to surgically remove the arrow.
She always felt more reckless at full moons, more willing to take risks and kill people, and oh my god, she killed two people.
Perhaps it was a good idea to bring Wednesday along for this trip.
As she lowered Wednesday slowly to the ground, her body convulsed in the first wave of a shift back. Internal organs, then bones, then the wolfskin.
Enid focused on her vocal chords, ones that growled and chuffed and whimpered to reshape first, hacking out words that she desperately hoped Wednesday would heed.
Save her some decency.
“Turn around,” Enid rasped. She felt like she might throw up as her bowels reshifted and shrunk, and Wednesday nodded in what Enid hoped was understanding.
The shift back was just as painful as Enid remembered it, but she held in the whimpers and sobs as best she could for Wednesday’s sake (and for her own dignity). When her body was finally back to normal, Enid shivered audibly, causing Wednesday to nearly turn back around before she caught a glimpse of Enid’s stark naked form.
“My apologies,” Wednesday said, the tips of her ears rosy pink. She unzipped her jacket and tossed it behind her callously, and Enid caught it with sore arms. She almost chuckled at the girl’s discomfort. They’d been roommates for months, after all.
“I’ll get blood on it,” Enid complained, but she put the black hoodie on anyway. She was suddenly grateful for Wednesday’s constant oversized baggy fashion. “You can look now.”
Wednesday waited an extra moment before doing so, causing Enid to giggle. Always the gentlewoman.
“I don’t know what to do with the… bodies,” Enid admitted. She held her sore shoulder, which was already soaking Wednesday’s jacket with her blood. She walked with a slight limp towards the dark-haired girl, who moved to wrap an arm around Enid’s waist to support her gait.
“I can handle them,” Wednesday said nonchalantly. “We’re deep enough in the woods to find some good dirt to bury them in. Considering their attack seemed planned, whoever’s in charge of this doesn’t expect their return anyway.”
“Thank you,” Enid sighed, leaning into Wednesday’s form as the exhaustion set in. She slung her good arm around Wednesday’s shoulder to keep from toppling her over.
“Who were they?” Wednesday asked.
“I don’t know,” Enid shrugged. “They show up basically every full moon to attack my family with silver and wolf’s bane. I can always hear them first, so I run off and…” she paused. “Take care of them.”
“Why don’t you tell your parents about this?” Wednesday pressed. Enid felt the arm around her waist tighten slightly. “They could have killed you.”
“They’re getting old, Wednesday,” Enid murmured. “They can’t hear as well, their bodies are brittler than before. Even my brothers probably can’t handle this, not unless they had the proper training prior, and I’m pretty sure their hockey skills aren’t much help.”
“So this is what you’ve been doing at full moons,” Wednesday observed. “Every time you come home late, blood-stained, and alone. You’ve been keeping them safe while taking the scoldings from your mother.”
“Promise not to tell?” Enid flashed her a withering grin.
“You could die,” Wednesday repeated. “By some coward’s hand.”
“They haven’t gotten me yet,” Enid muttered, mostly to herself. “Plus, you’d find a way to avenge me.”
“I don’t want to have to avenge you, Enid,” Wednesday said, turning away. Her voice was strangled, almost pained. Enid softened just slightly, ignoring the pain in her shoulder to put her hand over the one on her waist. She squeezed it.
“I’ll be okay,” she comforted. “I’ll leave a message about the attacks to the local paranormal agency and I’ll keep a letter on my bed for my parents to read before I leave for Nevermore. They’re not that helpless. I just…” Enid sighed. “I don’t want them to worry about me anymore.”
Wednesday didn’t reply, and they walked for a few more moments before Enid’s senses picked up another presence behind them. Enid heard the click of a crossbow.
“I hear it,” Wednesday whispered, noticing Enid stiffen.
“Wolf’s bane arrow,” Enid hissed back, the tang of the plant burning through her nostrils. “Cover me.”
Wednesday’s eyes flicked behind them as she turned to Enid.
“On three. One…”
“Two…”
“Three!”
As the familiar sound of a crossbow clicked behind them, Wednesday flung Enid away from her, a hand gripping the other girl’s forearm to swing her backwards.
Enid drew on the waning power of the moon once more, channeling the energy through her limbs. I need to be faster. I need to incapacitate them.
Her legs elongated as she ran, and Enid dodged the wolfsbane arrow, the assailant cursing as Wednesday responded with a volley of knives behind the werewolf. Enid called for her claws, heavy in her sore arms as she sliced through the person’s defensive position.
They yelled in pain, dropping the crossbow as Enid pinned them to the ground.
“Who sent you?” she snarled.
“I don’t know!” the small woman shrieked. “Let me go!”
A familiar scent wafted through Enid. Siren song.
She felt the compulsion flow through her, shaking the urge off like a wolf covered in water. It lingered, but Enid didn’t back down.
“That doesn’t work on me,” Enid grinned, placing a claw at her throat. “Who. Sent. You?”
Wednesday approached as well, and Enid saw the conspiratorial glint in the eyes of the woman underneath her.
“Save—” she started, her song moving towards the other girl before Enid bent down and bit the woman’s neck with bared teeth, canine pressing gently against her jugular.
“Another word,” Enid dug deeper, inciting a shivering whimper. “And I’ll take your life before you use your tongue.” She glanced at Wednesday from her position. “She’s a siren. Cover your ears.”
Wednesday nodded, doing so. Her face was flushed.
“Non sono mai stato così attratto da te.” she murmured.
“Answer the question, Siren,” Enid said, turning back to her. “Last chance.”
The woman’s eyes suddenly glazed over, an unnatural smile appearing on her face. “The dawn brings sacrifice, and in sacrifice we find enlightenment. As the sun rises, so too does our devotion to Morning Song. May this final act bring us closer to eternal glory.”
And with that, the woman went slack underneath Enid, and the werewolf dropped the siren’s neck, her body flopping lifelessly to the ground. Enid let out a groan of pain as her body shifted back to her human form, and she bundled Wednesday’s jacket (now slightly torn) closer toward her.
Wednesday approached, giving a pensive sniff.
“Cyanide,” she observed without missing a beat. “It’s lovely in Earl Grey tea.”