Omega

I'm sorry, but I don’t want to talk about the shift. It's a raw and visceral experience that I'd prefer not to go in on. You'll have to ask someone else. Coming here was hard enough and I'd rather take things slow, if that's alright with you. But, if you think it’s worth anything, I don't mind talking about some of the cultural things like being in a pack. Yeah? Okay.

Well, I guess the closest thing a pack can be related to is a family, but it's still more than that. No family, blood or found, can measure up to the kind of bond being in a pack can form. Once you're in, it's hard to get out, but you honestly don’t want to once you’re in. The feeling that comes over you when you get blooded, it's almost like falling in love. There's no real beginning to it. One minute it isn't and the next it is. I mean, come on, who doesn't like being in love? It's magical in every sense of the word. There's really no reason to purposefully give up something that good. That's what being in a pack is like.

It feels good to finally be a part of something that you didn't know you wanted, but always needed. You and everyone else are one and little else matters. Yeah, you can still have friends, family, lovers, your own life, but the pack becomes paramount. There's not a lot of things that you do without each other and having others who understand what you live with, what you endure, is a special kind of reassurance that keeps you from going over the edge. Plus, there's the safety it brings. Knowing that there are these people who always have your back because you have theirs.

I'll tell you a story. A few years back, myself and one of my sisters were scouting out a safe place for us and the rest of the group to phase during the coming full moon. It was still a few nights away, so we had plenty of time and the wilderness of upstate New York is nothing to scoff at when it comes to densely packed verdant wildlands that are often overlooked by the people speeding through on highways. Personally, I don't take as much offense to that as some others might. What I think is worse is those that go on those guided hiking trails. I feel like they’re doing themselves a disservice. Not truly engrossing themselves in the wonder of it all but instead skirting along the edges of their own fear.

Sorry, I’m rambling again. It’s easy for me to get lost in thought about this stuff especially so close to the full moon. I’ll try to stay on topic.

Anyway, my sister and I were scouting out a safe space, like I said, while the rest of our pack were carving out a perimeter. We wanted to have plenty of space to roam and run, but not too much as to draw attention from prying or not so prying eyes. We found a nice, small open patch of grass that would fit all of us but, so did someone else. Another group, another pack, some ten or twelve strong, showed up from out of the shadows of the brush and encircled us. At the time, we’d only dealt with other packs before in passing when making way through their territory and it always ended peacefully. But the aggression we felt from this group made the air around us shake with anxiety. That pungent scent of desperation trailed off the entire lot of them, staining the earth they stood on.

Myself and my sister were fierce, steadfast, and more than willing to hold our own even if the odds were stacked against us. That’s a kind of strength you can’t find in yourself. I think that kind of strength only exists when you’ve found someone to provide it to you. To show you that you are capable of everything and can withstand anything. The two of us were more than ready to stand up for ourselves at that moment.

Thankfully, we never had to. Our strength quadrupled when the rest of our pack showed up. Like dark knights of feral grace, they leaped down from the treetops to our side. The other pack dwarfed us in numbers, but they knew they didn’t stand a chance against the immensity of our resolve. It stopped being about the space we were fighting over. At that moment, it was the principle of the thing for us. We were being challenged, intimidated, and we refused to back down. After what felt like an eternity of anticipation, the desperate ones retreated into the bushes.

Do you see what I mean? Do you understand the gravity of what that kind of connection means? We moved in unison, thought with the same precision, loved with the same grace. To have that and then lose it is maddening. I gasp for air, but still draw breath. My heart pounds in a hollow chest. I hunger, I eat, yet still I feel empty. My curse has only exacerbated since my departure from the pack. Before, when the shift was near, my mood and demeanor would gradually change over the course of the few days leading up to the full moon. Like being slowly awoken from your sleep by a lover rubbing your back. It was easier to manage myself in normal society. Now, it feels like a mad man is pounding at the door to my home and try as I might to hold him off, he will break in and consume me for the night.

I spend a lot of time alone now. I’ve come to terms with it and found my own ways to be content in it. I move around a lot and try not to stay in one place for more than a month. I sustain myself on whatever little money I can make doing odd jobs. It’s easy to find work if you’re willing to do manual labor for less than minimum wage. This life is not for everyone and if I were a weaker man, I’d probably do what I can to see myself out, if you catch my meaning, but no. I may not like the way my life is currently, but it’s still mine and it’s all I’ve got.

Since leaving the pack I’ve come to realize that these things we call our lives overall are a poisonous mess that none of us ever asked for. It's made all the harder when you're ostracized by the people you thought cared for you because you're different now. But that family, the pack, doesn't care. They see you as themselves and themselves in you and you are all that matters. I suppose after hearing that it comes as quite the surprise that any one of us would choose to go alone. It's rare, but it can happen for any reason really: Difference of opinion, relocation, internal conflict, the list goes on. I don’t feel comfortable saying what my reasoning was yet but, I find genuine solace in the fact that I made the decision for me, and I accept my invitation to loneliness.