She ran, relishing the feel of frost-covered leaf litter and roots beneath her paw pads, the cool autumn air rushing past her ears, and the scent of damp, rot, evergreens, and forest animals.

She ran until the chilled air made her lungs ache, and flopped down next to a fallen pine tree.  She inhaled the scent of pine and decay as she caught her breath.  The forest around her was completely silent.  She appreciated the calm, noting the privilege of the forest inhabitants seeing her as a large, dangerous predator whose attention they did not want.  If she were still for a while, she would hear the night insects and birds that were still around this late in autumn.  However, she would not be still nor quiet long enough for that tonight.  As soon as she caught her breath, it would be time to sing.

She could hear the songs of other lycans in the woods coming from several directions.  She could pick out the familiar voices of her family and some of the townies, but also noticed several unfamiliar voices coming from the direction of the pack’s territory.  As long as she didn’t go that way, she should be fine.

Oh, how wrong she was.

Once she caught her breath, she sat up, and lifted her head.  Her hazel eyes looked deep blue in the dark night, gazing skyward she seemed to reflect the very night sky in her eyes.  She stared at the silvery-white orb that hung in the sky.  According to lycan legend, the first lycan to ever live was a female whose fur was made of fine spun silver.  She birthed the lycan people; their fathers were the stars.  When she grew old, her eyes failed and she went blind.  She decided they were no longer useful to her as they were, so she took them out of her head and placed them in the sky to be the sun and the moon. They may not have been useful in her head anymore, but in the sky, they enabled her to still see all of her children, night and day.  The moon eye was not as strong as the sun eye, and needed to close more often, resulting in the phases of the moon.  Because the moon eye was weaker, she asked her children to sing to her at night so she would know where to look so she could see them better.

Calista howled to the moon.  She howled to let the mother of her kind know where she was.  She howled to be seen for who she was, rather than the role she served.  She howled to release her frustrations.  She howled to exalt her joy at being a wolf.  She howled to let the other animals of the forest know she was the apex predator here, not any of them.  She howled to be an anonymous voice amongst the chorus of other singing lycans.  She howled to mourn her mother and baby brother.  She howled just to hear the sound of her own voice.

Calista sang until she tired of it, and her voice was getting rougher.  She didn’t want to lose her voice completely.  She also didn’t want to be hoarse tomorrow, so she resolved to make herself a honey lemon tea to soothe her throat when she got home.

With something to look forward to, as she had a special appreciation for honey in any form, she stood up and headed home, tail wagging slowly.  She broke into a trot.  It was still a bit early, but she was content.  Plus, if she beat the rest of the family home, she could have honey lemon tea ready for all of them, just to be nice.  She felt like she wanted to be nice now, after such a cathartic round of singing at the moon in the woods.

Lost in thought, she wasn’t paying too much attention.  She reached a clearing and paused, her senses sharpening.  Her ears pricked forward, and her head lifted as she looked around, now alert.  At first, she saw nothing, and wondered if she was imagining things.  But her instincts had never been wrong before.  And they weren’t wrong now!

Three pairs of eyes caught the moonlight.  Two bright yellow, the third a deeper amber.  Three wolves stepped forward.  The first, and largest, was brown and dark gray, with a white belly.  The second, only slightly smaller, was black, with gray on his back, sides, and the top of his head.  The third was the smallest, only a little larger than Calista was, and he was a mottled red, black and white.

Calista groaned inwardly.  Gunnolf, Rannulf and Channing were the last lycans she wanted to see right now.  Or ever, really.

She was about to ask them what they wanted, when something in their demeanor stopped her.  There was something imposing, almost threatening, about the way they stood; especially Gunnolf.

Calista took a step back, and the three tensed.  She froze.  For a brief moment that felt like an eternity, nothing moved or made a sound.  All Calista could hear was her heart pounding in her ears and her instincts screaming at her.  Run.  Run!  RUN!

In a flash, the silver and white wolf turned on her heel and bolted back the way she’d come.  She heard the crunching and scattering of leaves and branches behind her as the three males pursued her.

At first, Calista ran almost blindly, no real plan in mind, her instincts pushing her onward with the single-minded need to escape.  She knew what would happen if they caught her.  Gunnolf and Rannulf had run out of patience trying to ask her nicely to choose one of them for a mate.  They intended to force her to submit.  One of them would claim her as his mate, and she would be forced to join the lycan pack.

Calista didn’t want that.  She couldn’t let that happen.  Even if she had found the idea of joining the pack at all appealing, she couldn’t abandon the townies to their fate.  If she joined the pack, who would protect them?  The agreement her grandmother made with the pack would be truly nullified if the only healer belonged to the pack instead of the town.  The pack would drive the town lycans away at best, or slaughter them outright at worst.

It was Calista’s duty to heal and protect the lycans of the area.  She had an obligation to all of them!  She couldn’t let the pack’s selfishness put her friends and family at risk.  She had to outrun them!

The problem was, Calista didn’t think she could outrun them.  Oh, she was certainly faster than they were, for short distances.  But her stamina could not compare to theirs.  They could run all night, while she could not.  Her best chance was to make it back home, where she could lock the doors.  They had cut her off on the way home though, and now she was running the opposite direction.

The panic faded as she focused on what she needed to do.  She had to get herself running in the right direction.

A flash of brown and gray next to her caught her eye, and she saw a large form to her left, and jumped to the right just in time to dodge his attempt to shoulder-check her.  Just in time, she saw black and gray to her right, just behind her, and put on a burst of speed, lunging forward to avoid jaws snapping at her flank.

They were closer than she’d thought!  Too close!  She didn’t have space to turn.  She would have to push forward and gain some distance so she could loop around.  Calista was glad her sense of direction was very good, as she didn’t recognize any of the forest around here anymore.  They must be fully into lycan territory now.  She didn’t think that was an accident.

Rannulf tried again to body slam her, but this time, Calista didn’t jump as far away.  She moved just enough to keep him from throwing her off balance, and snapped at his face, snarling viciously.

Rannulf fell back, visibly surprised.

«Get away from me!» Calista growled, digging her paws into the forest floor and propelling herself forward with another burst of speed.  None of the males said anything to her, but they continued the chase.

Gunnolf leapt forward, trying to grab her hips.  Calista spun around to face him, slashing out with her forepaws, raking her claws across his muzzle.  The dark lycan yelped in surprise and skidded to a stop.  Calista sprang to the side away from Rannulf, but Channing was there, so she couldn’t just run back towards home.  She ran at an angle, away from the three males, but no longer going straight away from home.  She aimed to make a wide circle until she was facing the right way.

Calista felt herself beginning to tire.  She wouldn’t be able to keep this up for too much longer.  She heard paws skidding on leaves behind her, and glanced back to see the three males standing in a line, hesitating.

The gray and white lycan was unsettled by their unexpected pause, but wasn’t going to waste the chance to push her lead on them.  So she kept running.

«Calista, wait!» Gunnolf called after her.  She absolutely ignored him, and pushed for even more speed.

The sounds behind her indicated they’d resumed the chase, and Calista felt a pinch of despair in her chest.  Her tongue hung out of her mouth as she panted, her breath hanging like clouds in the chilly air of the late autumn night.