Wolfsong (Green Creek 1)

It was like before, after my father.

When I left the room, the door remained opened.

“I MEANT what I said,” I told her. “We leave here, I hear your voice.”

She looked from me to the front door, then back to me.

“It’s hard,” I said. “And it will be for a long time. But that’s why we have each other. Why we have a pack. We need to start remembering that again.”

I held out the quilted blanket for her to take, to cover her nudity should she choose to. I wasn’t going to push any harder than I already had, because I was worried it’d be too much.

She stared at my offering for a long time.

I thought maybe I’d failed.

But then she reached out carefully and took the quilt between her teeth. I let it slip between my fingers.

She dragged it along the floor and around the corner.

I heard the shift of bone and muscle. It sounded painful after so long.

There was a sigh.

I waited.

There was a shuffle of feet.

Elizabeth Bennett stepped around the corner, eyes tired but more human than they’d been in a long time. Her lightly colored hair fell along her shoulders, the quilt clutched tightly around her.

When she spoke, her voice was dry and raspy.

It was a wonderful thing.

She said, “I don’t mind being lonely when my heart tells me you are lonely too. Do you remember?”

“Dinah Shore,” I said. “You were dancing. You were in your green phase.”

“That song,” she said. “I told you it’s about staying behind. When others go to war.”

I played my part. “Staying behind or getting left behind?”

“Ox,” she cried, “there is a difference.”

SHE SHIFTED back

You did it, didn’t you?

no she wanted it

You did it, Ox. Trust me on that.

you need to come back

joe

are you there

JOE