Feral (Werewolf boyxboy)

Chapter 3

ECKO

The symphony of the world is extra loud today. Or, maybe, my family's brief visit to Uncle Osias and Berlin's urban pack had made me extra sensitive to the quaint, rural grounds where my Dad and Papa's pack was established. But either way, as I inhaled a breath of the fresh, open air that smelled distinctly of home, the world around me expanded into a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of sound.

Birds' beaks knocked together in the treetops as they fed their hungry young, caterpillars tap, tap, tapped their countless little feet in a steady rhythm, traversing across bouncing leaves as they prepared for metamorphosis, and wind whistled through the slender space that lay between every verdant, sharp blade of grass...

The thought of the countless, tiny worlds harmoniously coexisting all around me summoned a radiant smile upon my lips as I bumbled my way along the path laid before me, drenched in nearly an entire bottle of sunscreen which was – of course – generously applied by the constantly worrisome hands of my Papa. Meanwhile, my empty, knitted harvesting tote bounced against my wide hip, swaying this way and that with each step.

In its empty state, my tote's barely-there weight whispered promises of endless possibilities, as if it, too, were anticipating the bounty that was sure to await me.

Having endured the past couple of days at my uncles' pack, where tedious paperwork monopolized Dad and Papa's attention and my siblings and I hung with my insane cousins Hale and Cassius, I couldn't help but anticipate the vibrant transformation my garden must have undergone during my absence. Hopefully, my plant babies missed me just as much as I missed them.

The wind whistled loudly then, whipping around my body in ribbons as I giggled, reaching up when my gardening bandana flew backward over my eyes with the force of it. With the wind came a slew of renewed scents, all of them so powerful and dizzying that I could barely tease out where one ended and the next began.

My left forearm tingled beneath my billowing shirt as I finally ascended the final hill on my journey, revealing the sprawling, lush world that was my personal heaven – also known as my garden. Its magnificence – as always – took my breath away, and I instinctually paused to absorb the view from the hilltop.

What had once been only a modest plot of earth adorned with a few, choice seeds, my garden had grown right alongside me over the years, expanding and transforming to accommodate bigger and better things. Now, it stretched for what felt like forever, weaving in and out of the trees in an organic shape that blended in with the flow of the land, a natural stream of fertile soil flowing endlessly.

Honestly, if it weren't for the archway that Papa built me which marked the gateway to my garden. Time and encroaching vines had partially concealed my name, which was etched deep into the wood at the arch's peak, but still, it remained a testament to my presence, letting any stray visitors know that if they touched my precious babies, they would face my family's wrath... also known as Dad's chancla.

And now, for my favorite part.

My short legs flew beneath me at once, arms flying open as I hurtled down the steep hill, the world flying around me in a swirl of light and colors. Somewhere along the way, although I couldn't pinpoint the exact moment, my legs surrendered to the relentless pace of the rest of my body, and a squeal of exhilaration thrummed through me as I tumbled through the tall grasses, rolling my way down the rest of the hill in a cascade of chaos and joy.

Every ounce of breath left me as I completed my final revolution, collapsing in a disheveled heap at the bottom of the hill; crimson hair tangled with dirt, my billowing shirt stained with smudges of grass. Yet, as I gazed up at the cloudy heavens, a fit of laughter bubbling from within me as I lay surrounded by the symphony of buzzing insects and the pulsating vitality of the world, I'd never felt more alive.