Journey Home

Chapter 15 - Meet and Greet

The tang of the ocean and the sound of the surf interrupted the normal ruckus of the rainforest. So, I was not surprised when we came upon a beach where we found a small camp. Waiting to greet their alpha were seven werewolves in their humanoid forms and as soon as Pruk and I stepped out of the foliage and onto the sand, they rushed to welcome him, creating a circle of goodwill. I wanted no part in that, so I had to do some artful dodging before I too got caught up in the chaos of greetings and touches that did not belong to me.

As I stood to the side, I felt awkward and impatient. The first second I had I wasted no time and scanned the camp for Tee, but I did not see him. Nor had he responded to our bond.

"Tee? Tee. Tee!"

Nothing.

It was easy to see that Pruk was loved as everyone jockeyed to get a word in or sling an arm around him. It reminded me of how we used to welcome Father and the hunting party when they returned to the den. They could have been gone for hours, days, even weeks. It all depended upon how scarce the game was.

Every day the hunters were gone, Tee and I would watch the horizon hoping to see their shapes, low to the ground and speeding across the tundra. The second we spotted them we yipped, alerting the pack. Then Tee and I with our grumbly tummies, would race to meet them yapping all the way creating havoc while we begged for food.

Father usually fed us, so we always zeroed in and buzzed around him like two Arctic mosquitoes, relentless and annoying. We yipped in his ears, nipped at his legs, and licked his muzzle. He would endure us all the way to the den, where he would tenderly greet Mother. Only then would he regurgitate whatever prey, usually Musk Ox, he had killed for us to devour.

Standing to the side and watching Pruk's reunion, the yearning for my pack grew until something painful twisted in my chest. It made my jaw hurt and I found I could not swallow past an aching knot in my throat. I tried to control my sentiment, through the strength of my will alone and I chastised myself. No tears Char. No time for that. Still, my eyes burned, and I began to blink rapidly. 

I growled wet and soft, frustrated with my weakness. What was with me today? On the way over to camp, and now, I was being so emotional. Shouldn't I be rejoicing? Tee was okay and we had done the impossible. We had found werewolves. Why was I feeling worse now that I had?

My questions of course were rhetorical. Watching the society of a pack, the love and happiness of belonging, was like a knife in my heart. I knew that until I found my Arctic pack, I would never feel the joy of belonging and would always be an outsider looking in.

I tried to be positive and reminded myself that I did belong somewhere. I belonged with Tee. He was my family and my pack. But that was not what I meant when I said belonging. I think what I was missing aside from the love and companionship, was the protection and the might of a pack.

Being part of a pack meant teamwork. There was no your problem or my problem, everything was a pack problem. Being a member of a pack meant protection. Not many dared to pick on or harm someone who was part of a pack because they always had the power of the pack to defend them. 

Pack meant mentors and teachers to guide you and that you were always fed and had a safe place to sleep. Even if you were born into the pack you still earned your place in the pack and there was a place for everyone.

Strength in numbers was part of the jargon that you heard a lot in every pack. It meant a lot of things but what it meant to me was, that wolves that could never survive on their own could live out their life in happiness.  Father used to say, 'We are as strong as our weakest link.' That meant taking great care of the disabled young weak and elderly.