Clawthorn Chapter 5

I force myself to take the long way home.  I cross the stream in multiple places and weave my way around the forest until my body aches with hunger and tried muscles.  I gobble a stupid bird mostly by accident, but it gives me a burst of energy.  The last bit of my journey is all in the branches again.  This time I cross the magical barrier that surrounds my home with a leap through the air.  I make my usual lap around my border.  I take a long, cool drink and eat some dried fruit from the shed before I hurry into the quiet cabin and collapse onto the bed.  Douglas opens one eye at me from his spot in front of the crackling fire.  I hear somebody shuffling around outside, perhaps for more wood.  My need for rest outweighs my need for food.  My eyes droop, and soon I am lost to the strange dreams of my torn mind.

It is still quiet when I open my eyes.  The sun beams across the floor, and the fire has gone out.  I shiver and groan.  Zephanie does not greet me with her smile.  Douglas does not bound toward me with wagging tail.  Stephan does not bellow a greeting related to food.  My stomach turns over and creaks.  I sit up on my hind legs and look around.  For a moment my empty stomach is full of fear that the magic that has protected my home and given me friends is gone.

My heart pounds in my chest.  There is a chance that the guard in the tower saw me.  If the magic is gone, then it is only a matter of time before they find me.  I race out of the cabin and head for the barrier.  It was up when I returned, but there has always been the possibility of a magic user from the village detecting it.  During the purge of beasts, they sent the magic user out with the guards.  It was the week of blood.  The next week the beast graveyard was birthed as guards dragged bodies into the clearing.

During those weeks I lay in the belly of a tree, getting to know my new body and aching for the ones I lost.  Everything hits me all at once, and I allow the human part of my brain to rise in anger and sorrow as I launch myself at the trees that mark the barrier.  It is still there.  I cross it and run around the outside of the barrier until I am stopped in my tracks by the overwhelming scent of another beast.  It is a male, and he has been newly turned.

I climb the nearest tree and look around.  His scent is new, but not fresh.  Did he pass by here before or after I came home?  Does he linger nearby or has he already gone on?  I leap from branch to branch outside the border.  Fear and panic lingers in his scent.  Could it have been the guard who helped me last night?  Could he have trailed me from the village in a fit of panic after being transfigured?  Stranger things have happened in this forest.

I search the area around my home, and up and down the stream, but I have lost his scent.  Exhausted and starving, I eat the first animal I come across, and then I hunt two more and eat them, too.  My stomach aches in good and bad ways, so I trudge home through the quiet forest.  It is time to talk to my friends and make a plan.

I walk along the border of my home after I enter.  For the second time, Douglas has not greeted me.  The usual sounds of the others arguing or working or playing is absent.  I walk faster and keep a sharper eye out for the others.  Were they hurt?  Did something happen?  My tail twitches from side to side.  At last, I smell something.  I growl.  It is the creature, and it has found a way into my home.  I bound through the bushes, past the cow, and around the largest tree within my borders.  There, at the base, curled in the roots, is a beast.  And he looks exactly like me.

The others look up at me.

“What have you done?”  I roar.  “How dare you let him in!”

“He was alone.”  Zephanie speaks up, though she is quivering.  “He is injured, and the guards were after him.”

“He can’t get in unless I say so!”  I yell.  “And why haven’t you come to me before now?”

None of them reply.

I snarl, and they scatter.

The beast opens his eyes.  “Don’t hurt them.  It’s my fault.”  He pants.  “I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you.  Please, I’ll go right now.”

“No.”  I growl.  “You will stay here until I let you go.  They will be after you, and I will not let you put my household in further danger!”  I stand on my back two feet.  “Get up!”

He does slowly, and it takes all of my will to keep myself from yanking him up myself.

“Get to the cabin.”  I snarl.  “I want to know your story, and I want to know it all now.  I’ll decide what I will do with you afterwards.”

I bring up the rear as we all trudge back home.

“Are you hungry?”  Steven asks as I step through the doorway.

“I had to take care of that myself.”  I snap at him.

“What about him?”  He asks softly.

“Let him be hungry.”  I reply.  “I want his story first.”

He is sitting in the corner by the fireplace, his eyes on the floor.

“Look at me.”  I command him.

He does.

“Always look another in the eyes, human or beast.”  I sit down in my spot and glare at him.  “Now, start talking.”

I lie on my bed as he speaks of his wrongdoing and trial and the pain of sentencing and the days after that.  He chokes on his words a lot at first, but that’s normal for a new beast.  I ask him careful questions about the village, and it’s clear that he doesn’t know anything of the attack.  He was too busy holed up in a hiding place getting used to his new body to even notice the rest of the world.  I have been there before, so it does not surprise me.

I keep my eyes focused directly on his for the entire story, only blinking when I absolutely have to.  His fur is matted with dirt and sweat and a kill.  His story is typical of one who disobeyed the laws until eventually he paid the ultimate price, yet I am wary.  I do not know if it’s because there is something off about his story, or because I am unhinged after the last several days.

My household is gathered in small groups in the cabin.  They do not dare meet my gaze.  I am angry with them for worrying me, and angry with them for acting so fearful around me.  I may have a temper, but I rarely lose control.  They should have expected my outburst.  They know I care for them, and they know the stress I’ve been under lately.

When the beast is done talking, I tell them to take care of him.  I join the cow in the pasture while I think of what I want to do.  I could kill him.  A brand new beast can be dangerous, but mostly they are also easy kills.  It takes time for the newly forged brain to navigate the new pathways along the muscles and bones and nerves.  If I were good, I would leave him here with my household.  My life would be long enough for him to learn to get on his feet before my magic fades after my death.

The cow moos and shoved against me.  I run my paw along its side and look back at my cabin.  Douglas stares at me with his huge, sorrowful eyes from the doorway.

“Come here, dog.”  I growl.

He leaps toward me and licks my face until I gently roll him to his back and carefully rub his belly.

“I was worried about you all, that’s all.”

I still am.  There’s no way I can leave them with a new beast.  A large part of me wants to spend the rest of my days roaming the outskirts of the forest, maybe even giving into the beast part of my brain.  I rub his belly again, and pat his back leg.

“Will you help me with him?”  I ask numbly.  “The way you helped me?  I don’t know if I have it in me.”  And the most daring part of me wants to try one more time to reverse the spell, even if it costs my life in the process.  I decide then to stay just long enough to settle everybody.  When I am close to the end, I will risk the village one last time.

Light shines out of the little windows of my home.  Under the voices of my household, I hear the strum of my father’s guitar.  My heart races and my throat aches.  I drop to all fours and race into the cabin, my jaw locked and my teeth bared.  Instant silence blankets the one room cabin.

“You.”  I stride to the guitar.

He trembles.

“I told you that I never want to hear you play again!”  I roar.  “Who do you serve?”  I spin around and glare at them all.  “Have you all lost your minds?”

Zephanie climbs down from her spot on the windowsill.  “We did this for you in the earliest days.”

I snap my teeth at her, but she remains firm.

“I will leave.”  The new beast lowers his head and eyes.  “I cannot stay in a place where I am nothing but another problem maker.”

His words pierce only the tiniest holes through my defenses, but it is enough.

“Stay.”  I order him.  “Play your music.”  I hiss at the others.

“Stay.”  Zephanie says, her voice soft and pleading.

“No.”  I respond, but my growl is gone.  I look back at the beast.  “You stink.  After you’ve had your fun, I want you to clean in the stream.  Don’t ever enter my home without a bath.”

I listen to the music as the sun falls into the tree line.  Tears stream down my face.  I hate them, yet I cannot stop them.  I never named the guitar, just as I never named the object that reminds me most of my mother.