Struggling to Survive
He wakes up covered in blood. He spends all day wandering the woods, searching for evidence of the wolf’s prey. Sick to his stomach the entire time and praying to a God he doesn’t believe in. One that his mother taught him about in the pale light of their kitchen.
Praying that he hasn’t hurt anyone.
Remus had triple checked that there were no humans travelling the reserve but he was terrified anyways. His father was right to be afraid of the wolf. The chains Remus had taken with him did nothing to hold the wolf.
He’d killed at least two deer.
Probably a rabbit or a squirrel too. But he woke up without any new scars. And he neve doesn’t find any evidence of any human victims. So he tells himself he hasn’t killed anyone. He isn’t a monster. He half believes it.
The next month is the same. Bleeding from his own wounds, he tries to find his prey. To make certain it isn’t human.
Remus thought that the full moons would be the hardest part of living on his own. But it is the endless minutes in between. Finding food and shelter and avoiding the police. He ends up spending most of his time in the woods. Turning into something closer to a beast than a boy.
He loses weight he can’t afford to lose. Sleeps less than five hours in a night. He’s barely surviving.
He thinks about going home. In the dead of night, when the forest is loud with birds and bugs and animals. When he is rooting through a waste bin for a bit of breakfast. When he walks through the soles of his old boots.
It just isn’t an option.
He just keeps telling himself that over and over and over.
Going home isn’t an option.