RULE #2

The trees rush past me on either side, a reminder that I need to be aware of everything around me. The positions of the trees. The scent on the wind. My claws in the earth. The more aware I am, the better I'll hunt, and hunting is necessary for survival.

Father always tells me that a wolf has to be fast. A fast wolf is a fed wolf. A fast wolf is a living wolf. The moment I get slow is the moment I die. That's what my father taught me. Now, at the ripe age of fifteen, I'm so fast, hunting has become easy. Soon, I'll need to start hunting bigger prey than the rabbits that surround our home. But not yet. I can't bear to hunt deer just yet. Mama always loved watching the deer that meandered in our yard every now and then. Killing one of them seems like an insult to her memory.

The scent of the rabbit I hunt darts to the left and I follow the scent trail, searching. This rabbit is faster than most, and clever. Rather than digging inside a hole I can tear apart, he tries to put distance between us first. I'm no normal wolf, though. I'm also a man. Which means I have the instincts of my animal and the skill of a human. That makes me a threat.

Grinning as I run, excited for the hunt, I follow the scent trail laid out before me. It leads me through the trees and into a clearing I'm surprised the rabbit thinks is a safe place to hide. As I break through, my eyes dart first to the rabbit disappearing on the other side and then second to the other being in the clearing. I'm far from any town, in the middle of the forest, so it surprises me when I come upon a human in the clearing. I slide to a stop in shock, the rabbit getting away to live another day, as my eyes focus on the surprised eyes of a boy.

The human, a child, shrinks away from me as I stand on my two legs before him. I realize immediately what I must look like. A half human, half wolf towering above him while he's out here alone in the woods. So I push the magic in my blood to change, until I stand before the boy as only a man. The fear doesn't leave his eyes, though. He's already seen the beast within me.

"Hey," I say calmly, looking around, confused. No one comes out to explain, so I focus back on the child who can't be any older than nine. "What are you doing out here alone?"

He whimpers and scoots back when I take a step forward, so I hold up my hands and stop moving. "Please don't eat me," he begs, his words full of fear.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I say. There doesn't seem to be anyone else around. At least, not that I can see. I sniff the air, but the only scent I smell other than his smells at least a few hours old. Why would a kid be in the forest alone? It's dangerous out here. His parents should be nearby, but I don't sense them at all.

"Papa will be back," he rasps, moving away further as if he thinks I'll snap him up without warning. "He's coming back."

Realization suddenly dawns on me. Father had told me about instances such as these, but I never thought. . . I didn't think monsters like that truly existed. I've never come upon them myself, but my father has if he's to be believed. He used to tell the story of how he found one and took her back to safety, only to find the child back in the forest a week later. The second time, he took her to a different town and hoped that had been enough. Since he never came across the child for a third time, he'd assumed all was well, but he never knew for certain.

"Your papa left you out here all alone?" I ask, wanting to clarify.

He nods, his whole body shaking with panic. "Yes, yes. Don't eat me. Don't eat me."

Annoyance fills me at his fear. I'm trying to help him for Enchantment's sake! I'm not baring my teeth and talking about what nice eyes he has. "I'm not going to eat you," I growl in frustration, and the boy shrinks further away.

His own father left him in the woods alone to die, and he still sees me as the monster. The annoyance turns to sadness as the boy scrambles to his feet and runs into the forest before I can say another word. I could go after him. I could take him back to my father, but Father is hardly more than a shell these days. It would do no good anyways. I'm just the monster in the forest, no matter how kind I'm trying to be.

To me, the worst kinds of monsters wear human skin. They pretend to be good and then leave their child in the forest to die because they don't want to take care of them any longer. This isn't the first child to suffer this fate and it won't be the last. It's apparently a long-standing tradition. Babies, toddlers, children, teenagers, it never ends. Monsters come in all forms.

But the most dangerous are the ones that don't look like monsters at all.

Sighing, I turn away and chase down another rabbit. No thrill comes with the hunt this time.

Only sadness.