Flint the Weredog - Chapter 2 The Pack

The Pack

“Grail I asked you to pass me the red deer pelt about 10 minutes ago now put that damn book down and concentrate on what I’ve asked you to do”
Grail the youngest of Royston and Vicky’s children, a small very earnest looking boy, looked up from his book. Looking over at his dad replied
“Sorry dad, let me just earmark where I’ve got to, this is fascinating. Here you are dad the pelt you want”
Royston takes the pelt from his youngest son’s hands, with a sigh and a growing sense of frustration, he throws the skin to the floor
“Good grief boy that’s obviously boar skin, look at the thickness of the hide, I wanted the red deer skin. Flint get me the right pelt will you and Grail go to the kitchen to help your mother, that’s the third skin you mixed up this morning”
Flint, who was working a small piece of leather shaping it into that of a money pouch, expertly sewing the neck piece on put down his needle, stooping down picked up the thrown down boar’s skin, re-hung it and collected the red deer skin.
Grail picked up his book and walked towards the door, looking back it looked like he was going to say something but seeing his dads brooding countenance decided against it and slunk out.
“I know he’s a bit away with the fairies dad but he does try, he is still young give him a chance”
Roy looked up from his workstation at his second youngest son, seeing a very tall gangly figure of a young man, soon to turn eighteen, a tumultuous time for a werewolf as around that time they should start the transformation. The first time they become a wolf. Roystons other children Carver, Nero, Dawn and Jobe have all been through the transformation, all handsome wolves with great strength. Carver the eldest son has a very wise head on his shoulders, a definite leader in the making, Nero a huge fellow with the strength of an ox even in human shape at the moon's newest and smallest crescent when a werewolves strength is at it’s weakest. Nero would be a formidable opponent in any fight. Then there is Dawn, a slender girl with all the grace and beauty passed down from Vicky the mother. When she transformed for the first time standing side by side with Vicky, it was like looking in a mirror, she was in every way the same as her mother. Jobe was next a smaller man and smaller wolf, a little of a loner didn’t get too involved with the whole pack mentality, preferring the company of a whisky bottle than his own family, even though more acerbic in nature he would still join the hunts at the change and bring back a boar or two. Finally in as Royston called them the pack came Flint, the tallest of the siblings, the most like Royston in stature and demeanour and Grail the youngest sibling just turned 15 the youngest was the odd one out of the whole pack. He was academically very bright, always had his head in a book. The older brothers, especially Jobe would rib him mercilessly, calling him a bookworm, not sure how he would catch a fly, never mind a deer when he transforms. Maybe he will bore the animals to death with his facts he liked to spout out at any point of the day! Yes although all different Royston knew they would stick together as a family and when hunting they worked as one unit, hunting out the red deer and boar in the thick forest around there house and the adjoining village, bringing back the freshly killed creatures so when back in human shape they could work the carcasses, taken the pelts off then the local butcher would come up to remove the rest to butcher and sell in the village and further a field, the pelts the family would make into the most exquisite leather goods, saddles, satchels, shoes. All made within the tannery on site then sold on to a very fashionable leather goods saleroom in the town just over the river Rhine, the money raised from the sale of goods going into a family pot to help maintain the house and a comfortable style of living, being such a long living family it was easy to make shrewd investments, putting money away into saving accounts knowing it would accrue good interests over the decades it would sit in banks. 
Looking again at Flint Royston cocked his head to one side. 
“It’s your eighteenth next week, full moon a week later do you feel anything?”
Flint looking back up at his dad, he knew his dad always liked the first transformation. To inspect the newest member of the pack, to take them under his wing and show them how to hunt with the rest of them, to slot into the wolfpack. Flint knew talking to the older brothers and sister that to impress their dad on the first time out would go a long way to him making his life easier in the household.There dad was a very proud man who had worked hard getting the locals to accept them for what they were. When he and their mum decided to start a family after living in harmony within the village for the last fifty years, it was always going to be hard, people didn’t realise that after so long they would want or even could start a family but as there mum explained to a town meeting they live so much longer than their fully human counterparts so everything was delayed. A female werewolf didn’t reach full maturity for at least 100 years and a male about 75 years. So if they start a family not to worry they won’t be overrun by werewolf after werewolf families as a female can’t give birth for so long and a male can’t impregnant for so long.
They did have to concede that yes a werewolf biting a human or transferring enough of their blood into them would indeed cause more werewolves but the village knew that when Royston moved in and had any locals been turned by them in the last fifty years? They would make sure any children there when they went through the transformation understood the rules and stayed away from humans at that point. That all happened over thirty years ago, Carver the eldest now in his late twenties as was his sister Dawn, Nero and Jobe early twenties then Flint turning eighteen, finally little Grail only fifteen, the village had by now relaxed and enjoyed the fame that the leather goods brought to them, knowing they were sought out far and wide for the quality of the work and the feeling they were protected if any rogue elements came through.
Looking again at his dad he gave a little nod of the head
“I think so dad, I woke up yesterday and there was a trail in the air. I followed it into the kitchen where the cook was cooking up sausages, she fairly jumped out of her skin. Before saying master Flint please open your eyes you are scaring me! It was then I realised I had my eyes shut so I must have been following the smell with my nose. But I could see the trail as clear as anything never bumped into anything, I guess that’s the start right dad?”
Royston with a huge smile
“Yes son that’s the start” Clapping his hands together he put down the pelt he was paring down with a sharp knife
“Lets stop work for the afternoon and go and have a small celebratory drink, I know this time next week at full moon there will be another Ludovic out in the woods hunting with us”
Flint smiling up at his dad, thinking that was easy, hopefully the change will happen now and I will be in the pack. He had been dreaming about running out with his family for a while now. The dreams becoming more and more vivid, waking up twitching holding his neck out, last full moon he was sure things were happening but knowing it was probably too soon not yet turned eighteen, he couldn’t help though to hold his hands up to his face and being disappointed to see ten normal fingers wiggling in the moonlight streaming through the large bay window of his bedroom.
Flint followed his dad into the study, in the corner nursing a large glass of whisky was Jobe, looking up from his glass warily expecting another lecture from his dad about his drinking and general laziness, he was heartened to see him with his hands over the shoulder of Flint beaming, ahh Jobe knew that look it must be close to Flint’s transformation. Standing up smiling himself, he walked up to his dad and younger sibling
“Is this time for celebration? Let me pour you a whisky young man.” Then looking at Flint he said “And what would you like Flint?”
A large guffaw from their dad showed Jobes' joke hit its mark. 
“It is indeed time for a celebration. Flint witnessed his first scent trail the other morning so it can’t be long now”
Jobe smiling 
“Ahh that was why the cook was as white as a sheet, muttering about getting the heebie jeebies at this time around the full moon, not helped by people wandering around half naked with eyes tightly shut!”
Laughing again Royston poured two large glasses of whisky, handing one to Flint and holding the other one tightly. Jobe noted he didn’t offer to refill his glass so did so himself.Royston raised his glass and tipping it slightly towards Flint toasted him
“To Flint may your first transformation be smooth, may you hunt with speed and agility and become a full member of this pack”
With that he raised his glass to lips and drained the tumbler in one gulp, closing his eyes letting the warming drink circulate around his mouth before swallowing. Flint, a lot more cautious, took a mouthful and swallowed, feeling it burning down his throat, making him gag as it hit his stomach, eyes watering trying hard not to cough or splutter. His dad watched him with amusement in his eyes.
“Ahh the fire water hit your stomach boy? Don’t worry, even now eighty years down the line I remember my first hit of fire water, second mouthful is easier I promise.”
 Flint raising his glass again took another mouthful and this time it went down his throat without burning and no gagging as it hit his stomach.With more back slapping Royston propelled Flint out of the study after pointedly putting the cork firmly back in the whisky bottle and giving Jobe a sharp look. He took Flint out along the long dusty corridor past the stuffed animals, trophies of the best hunted animals over the decades, stopping at a large heavy door. Taking a key out of his pocket he unlocked the door and showed Flint in.
“Now I’m sure your brothers and sister have told you what this room is”
“Yes dad, it's the transformation bedroom. The bedroom which mum laid you to rest as you recuperated from the wolf attack all those years ago. They said you woke up to see a picture on the canopy above your head of wolves bringing down deer. That was when mum knew you were going to be a werewolf the same as she was.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed looking up at the canopy there was just a plain solid blue coloured canopy. 
“Yes son she knew then I had if you like taken on the wolf blood she passed onto me to save my life as you can see no picture, but as the blood fizzes near the change when you see trails in the air of scent marks you look up at the canopy and the picture is as vivid as if freshly embroidered that day. It is soaked in scent markings and drawn with a skill unsurpassed by any man. It was your mum's grandfather who did it many aeons ago, how the scent is locked into the cloth is still a mystery to this day but believe me the first time you see that picture you will know you are a full werewolf.”
 Standing up and walking to the end of the bed where a large oak blanket box stood, fumbling in his pocket again, Royston pulled out another key and unlocked the box he pulled out reverentially a very old satchel. 
“I know you also know the story of this satchel. The satchel your mum had when she first walked into that pub eighty years ago was then thrown out by Brogan who knew from first look who or what your mum was. He had a hatred of all our types, a story passed down his dad's side of the family claiming two brothers slain by werewolves, may have been true the history of wars between werewolves and humans are millennia old. Werewolves were hunted to the edge of extinction with only a tiny pocket surviving deep in the Bavarian woods, only a few families living out in total isolation. It was your mum’s grandparents then her parents who reached out to the local village and tried to heal old battle wounds, eventually winning them over as they showed the locals how useful they could be, bringing food and warming clothing in the harshest of weather. Making goods the villagers could sell and protecting them from wolf attack or bandits which roamed the woodlands looking for unsuspecting people to rob or worse. So that was how your mum's family set up here and how we continue to serve the village who allowed them to stay and flourish.”
Royston carefully opened the old satchel and took out a bottle of whisky.
“This is the first whisky I ever drank, the firewater hitting me like a wagon being drawn by the heaviest horses I can tell you.”
Lifting the bottle up taking the cork out and sniffing deeply the deep dark fluid in the bottom of the bottle letting out a strong alcohol smell
“Too old now to drink being spoiled by being in the air too long but that smell ahh that smell still takes me back to the night me and your mum met.”
Putting the bottle back in the satchel and carefully strapping the satchel back up Royston before placing it back in the blanket box making sure it was wrapped in a soft blanket. Closing and locking the box up. He turned to face Flint. 
“The rules of the hunt are easy: you stay with me for the first two or three hunts, you don’t go off after any animal on your own, you stay within the confines of the scent-marked territories in the woodlands, well away from any human dwellings. At a kill you follow the lead of one of the senior members, it is important to dispatch the animal with the least damage to the pelt or muscles. A quick bite to the neck and hold on till the animal suffocates. Like I said, follow your older brothers or sister. Especially watch how Carver or Dawn does it; they are artists when it comes to the quick kill. Nero is a bit more of a blunt weapon who can take down the biggest animals and Jobe. Well Jobe will do a couple of small kills.” When the time of the sunrise comes close I will give the howl to alert the family to head home. Head straight for home, don’t let any scents excite you, to take you off course at that time. Just follow the scent of home. You will know the trail to follow and get home before sunrise. Go to your bedroom and wait for the change back to human shape to happen. The rest I will explain after I see you that morning in human shape. Ok end of lecture let's go down for tea, I can smell sausages your favourite I hear”
With a wink and another slap to Flint’s back they both stood up. Flint hung back a bit looking up at the canopy, willing himself to see a shape of a deer or a wolf within the light blue background, but nothing. Ahh well shrugging his shoulders it won’t be long now. Joining his dad they went down to have a large meal of venison and boar sausages. Looking down the table he saw Grail picking at his food looking glumly over the table at his older siblings, Flint had a stabbing sense of guilt, he meant to seek out his younger brother and tell him not to take anything their dad said or did to heart, he just gets a little frustrated around sewing time. Flint never did join in the taunting of his younger brother, he found him easy company and enjoyed the fact that Grail took so much interest in their history and the morphology of the werewolf race. He found him useful to use as a sounding board if he felt odd or not quite right as apart from their mother he knew the most about what made them tick as a race of creatures. He could see that Grail was unhappy and vowed he would chat with him as soon as the meal had finished.For the time being he decided to enjoy the beautiful succulent sausages made from the meat hunted by the people sat round that table, looking at each sibling in turn, the serious look of his eldest brother, the grace of his only sister Dawn, Jobe next to Dawn cracking jokes and looking slightly worse for wear. He obviously didn’t take his fathers hint earlier about not drinking anymore whisky and probably finished the bottle off. The hulking big shape of Nero dwarfing Jobe, quaffing his beer. At either end of the table was his mum and dad. Flint felt so happy at that moment, a feeling of truly belonging. This family being individuals but all joined to be one true working unit, and that working unit slots into the village beyond these walls to complete that village and make it a whole entity. At that precise moment he knew what his dad meant by being a true member of the Ludovic pack. So what was to happen next to break that unit and his own downfall was to be all the more devastating to the young Flint.