December's Moon

10| DECEMBER

| DECEMBER |

After dinner the next day, December laid on one of the couches in the back of the library, listening to music through his headphones. Music helped him think when he got overwhelmed. It let him tune out even the sounds around him.

Iris sat on the floor next to him. The faculty didn't like when the students got on the furniture in their wolf forms and left behind claw marks. Iris would never damage any furniture, but for some reason, she still got lumped into the "no claws on the couches" ban.

December pet his dog between her ears, and she nuzzled into his hand. Her skin and fur were warm and comforting beneath his fingertips. Being around her had always calmed him. He'd had her since she was just a puppy, and she was his first real friend.

After his mom died when he was five, December became a Ward of the Pack. He was sent to the Cypress Pass Boarding School for Boys which taught students from kindergarten through fifth grade. Many of the other students there were also orphans. The pack war right around the time December was born had resulted in losses of many of their wolves. December was told his own father died fighting in that war a few months before he was born.

When he first arrived at the school, he struggled to connect with other people. Most of his classmates avoided him because he either frightened them or they didn't know how to talk to someone who couldn't see. In their defense, he made no effort to befriend any of them, either.

For the first few years there, December spent most of his time alone in his wolf form, often at the scolding of the boarding school's faculty. The school was only intended for students through grade five. Normally, young werewolves did not complete their first transformation until at least ten years old, so the fact that December could already complete his shift was something they were not equipped to handle, especially with a young boy who was also "emotionally unstable."

When he was nine, December finally ran away. He couldn't remember what the last straw was that drove him to do it. All he recalled was the feeling of something pulling to him, like he needed to be somewhere else at that moment.

He ran down the empty streets in his wolf form under just the hazy light of the moon cutting through the cloud cover. The sound of whimpering echoed out of an alley, and he stopped in his tracks, his ears perking up. He followed the sound until he reached a dumpster. After shifting to his human form, he opened it, and there she was.

Iris was also a stray, and just a two-month-old puppy at the time. She was injured and alone with no mother to care for her.

December saved her, and she saved him. Being around her gave him a calmness and confidence he didn't have by himself. Finding her was the turning point in his life. Things got better after that.

Eventually, December was found, and they returned him to the boarding school. Although the faculty was strict, it was evident being with the dog helped December control himself and interact with people, so he was allowed to keep her.

She was getting older now—almost nine—but she still had the energy of a dog half her age.

December ran his hand through her fur, and she licked the side of his arm. He flinched slightly as her rough tongue ran over the scrapes from when he'd fallen in the woods the morning of the party. They were finally starting to heal, but he had other injuries to replace them now. His ribs ached where Luca had punched him yesterday, and a dull pain throbbed around his eye. He'd been too sore to work out today, which he regretted.