23
Savannah
We sprinted forward, and the whole pack was suddenly in motion, a rolling wave of fur and teeth and claws.
Our feet pounded against the grass as my wolf wove back and forth, struggling to keep us from being trampled.
This wasn’t a track meet. It was a stampede. Wolves were everywhere, jostling and colliding into each other.
Sam was at my side, snarling when other wolves got too close. Follow me!
Heart racing, I clung to her heels and let her run interference. This is insane!
A wolf I didn’t recognize whipped around my side and careened in front of us. Wolfie growled and nipped at him.
Sam gave me a wink that said, Now you’re getting the hang of it.
The hell I was.
Rather than fight the flow, I let my wolf take full control as the hairy maniacs of the Dockside pack bounded and sprang around us. This is not what I had in mind!
Sam ran confidently by my side, and the primal sense of her thoughts flooded my mind. Don’t worry. The hierarchy will sort itself out.
Clearly, everyone just wanted to be in the lead, by Jaxson. He was already far ahead.
Wolfie gave a growl of frustration. There’s no way we’re going to bring up the rear.
We began to pick up speed, which brought us back into the chaos that boiled in Jaxson’s wake. We dodged and wove, trying to gain ground, until my wolf finally gave up and eased off the gas. We’re going to break an ankle dodging these idiots.
Frustration tore at us both. This was a terrible way to run a race.
This is a 5K. We need to pace ourselves,I said to my wolf, and concentrated on my memories of running cross country. Sprinting at the beginning was a great way to lose. We needed to find a pace we could sustain. We didn’t know the course, so it was best to meter others.
This pace feels pretty good, but it’s all teeth and tails ahead,my wolf responded.
The pack had started to split into clusters, and she decided to hang with half a dozen wolves that were drafting just behind the lead group.
After a few minutes, the chaos settled down, and we left the wooded park and pack land behind. Wolves all around me howled as we crossed Razorback Avenue.
We joined in the howls as our claws skittered across the road and we leapt back onto the soft grass of the Midway Green, where the Full Moon Fair had been held a few weeks ago. It was just open grass now.
The pack had settled into a steady pace, though we were breathing hard.
Sam glanced over at me with her tongue hanging out and a very human expression that seemed to say, Are you okay?
My wolf gave a determined snarl back. Fine.
She nipped at me in warning. Don’t overdo it.
My wolf just gritted her teeth and put her head down. I could feel her determination matching my own.
Running with the pack was like nothing I’d ever experienced. As we settled into a rhythm, we became one with the wolves around us. Our stride, our breathing, was like the low thrum of a hypnotic dance.
Soon, we left the Midway behind and turned to run south through Exposition Park, which was lit by antique-looking streetlamps. We tore around strolling pedestrians and late-evening bikers with reckless abandon. A few people shouted and cursed, and some even threw beverages or ignited warning spells over our heads. But overall, the Magic Siders were remarkably unfazed. Apparently, a pack of rabid-looking wolves running through the city wasn’t all that uncommon. Anywhere else, the hapless citizens would be screaming at the top of their lungs, running for their lives. But this was Magic Side. People here had seen a lot.
We raced down the shoreline, with the lights of South Side Chicago twinkling back at us across the waters of Lake Michigan. Unfortunately, a deep throb of exhaustion began creeping into our muscles, and we began to lose ground.
My wolf gave a frustrated growl as Jaxson slipped further ahead. Sam stayed with us, though I knew she wasn’t equally winded, which sent irritation bubbling beneath my skin.
Wolfie stumbled a little but pushed on. I could use a little help, here.
How? I asked.
I’m not exactly sure how it works. But I helped you free your ankle in the forest of shadows and gave you strength to break out of the van.
Could I do the same for her now? I focused my mind and will on running.
We tripped and slammed snout-down in the grass.
Sam skidded to a halt and turned back as wolves zipped by. She gave a soft whine that said, You need to take it easy.
No! We scrambled to our feet and tried to catch up. We were hopelessly behind the second cluster by now.
My wolf got back into rhythm and focused on her stride. That didn’t work. Maybe I should just drive.
A melancholic sense of failure seeped into my heart. Fine. Helping her run didn’t work. I gave a defeated sigh and just focused on remembering my races in high school—what it had felt like to run, to have strength in my limbs. The runner’s high. The soothing rhythm of the road.