A Cry For Help

"Why is it that I never hear you howl at night?" I asked as Hunter walked out of the shower. He hadn't bothered to wrap himself in a towel, so my focus weakened. I pulled my feet up onto the couch and leaned my back against the armrest.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I've been reading about wolves recently, and I realized I never hear you howl." Hunter shifted into a wolf at some point throughout each night that I stayed with him, but he was always quiet when he did. He would curl up and cover my legs while he dreamed of hunting. Maybe an occasional growl or grumble every now and then.

"I didn't know that I did that," a rare blush reddened his cheeks as he overheard my thoughts. He came over the couch where I sat and climbed up with me, dripping wet and naked. "I always wake up in this form."

Damn it. His face was burying itself under my arm while one hand was sneaking into my shirt. "It was weird the first time, but you are kind of cute as a wolf. Like an overgrown puppy." I started to laugh, and he growled against my ribs. My position on the couch was compromised now, with both of his hands trailing up my back.

For just a moment, I wondered if he was even aware of what he was doing to me. But of course he was.

"Answer the question," I persisted.

"A wolf doesn't howl without a reason. If someone was afraid or lonely, then they would cry for help. That's what howling is."

A passage from one of the articles I read came to mind as he said that. "I thought it was also a warning for people sometimes." As if he was waiting for me to say something stupid, Hunter chose that moment to lift me off the couch and onto his lap.

His eyes glowed green in the dim lighting and mischief was dancing all over his smile. "No, it's always a cry for help. The thing is...it is pretty damn effective way to do it. A frightened wolf is a terrifying thing." He leaned forward and softly bit my shoulder.

That was just one of many conversations I had with Hunter over the summer, but it came back to me now as I watched him take down the crazy magician he was brawling it out with.

He was taking a beating I knew I would only get in the way by getting any closer. The last time I was around Hunter in a fight and interfered, I literally got him killed. So even when it looked like he was getting all of the sense knocked out of him and the battle became one-sided, I stayed back and watched.

Then the burning emotions inside of him erupted and washed over us both. I watched him shift into a wolf twice as large as a grown man and burst into flames. There was fire and heat flooding the air throughout the entire neighborhood, but it wasn't unbearable. The fight was over and Hunter was the man left standing. Yet, as the flames began to settle, he raised his face to the night sky and howled.

And I can't help but wonder what I was supposed to do about my wolf's cry for help.