Fox Mate (Madison Wolves) (32 page)

"Oh honey," she said. "Of course."

We sat quietly for a while, waiting for our friends to finish healing as best they could.

"I don't understand," Lara said eventually. "A concussion laid you up for days."

"I'll explain."

"But-"

"Patience," I said. I smiled. "You know, I wonder if my drinking tolerance has changed."

"Please don't pick today to find out," Lara said.

I laughed. "All right."

I dozed a little. It was a warm day, and Lara smelled so good. I didn't sleep, I don't think, but was just very relaxed and happy.

Every time I looked at her, Vivian was watching me.
I finally asked her, "Are you afraid of me, Vivian?"

"No.
But I wonder what other surprises you have."

"Well, I am still very brittle, and I understand I am considered quite the shrew."

Vivian laughed, then she noticed my expression. "Who called you a shrew?"

"Hadley Smith."

"Ignore her," said Lara. "You are a bit excitable, but not a shrew. You are sweet and everyone loves you."

"And you are biased."

"True," Elisabeth said. "But this time she's right."

"Well, thank you. Are you biased, too?"

"Yes," said Francesca. "She is. But it's true."

I laughed. I looked over at Elisabeth. "Thank you, by the way."

"For what?"

"The recording of Lara talking about me."

"You are welcome."

"May I have a copy?"

"Of course. I already emailed it to you."

"And I have the one of you talking about me," Lara said. "I love you, Michaela."

"Good. How's your hand, Elisabeth?"

She held it up. It looked ugly. I held up mine, and from where she was sitting, she couldn't see the slight redness. She narrowed her eyes. "Let me see your other hand." I laughed and held up both hands for her. "Unbelievable," she said. "Did you really burn?"

"She did," Vivian said. "She was burned at least as badly as Lara, and it was probably deeper. She held the knife much longer."

"I was healing it while it was burning," I said. "So
it was not as bad as Lara's. I took more damage, but I healed it at the same time. Speaking of which." I turned to Francesca. "Could I be terribly impertinent and beg some food?"

She laughed. "Yes. I'll bring a platter of something."

"I could eat almost an entire quarter chicken," I said. The wolves chuckled. For some reason, that joke never got old for them.

Scarlett and Angel finished healing about the same time. They got dressed and showed their hands. They were red and ugly, and I imagined very sore, but they were healthy and would heal over the next few days. I showed them mine in comparison, and Lara showed hers as well.

"Vivian," I said. "Would you be willing to use the phrase, 'kicked their asses'?"

She laughed. "That's not normally the phrase I might use, but I admit it has a certain amount of accuracy in this case. The fox won by a distinct margin. She healed more completely and in significantly less time."

"All right," I said. "You two can write up yours promises to me later. I'll be hanging onto them for a while." I sighed. "I sure wish I'd had them banked this morning."

They laughed.

Francesca returned with a platter of food and sent the girls in to collect everything else. They also took the remnants away of our recent demonstrations. Soon we were all munching on a little something, and I thanked Francesca profusely.

"I don't eat a lot at a time," I explained. "But doing that takes a lot of energy. Thank you."

Scarlett and Angel returned for beers for everyone. I waved mine away, sticking to lemonade.

"All right," I said. I looked at Lara. "I promise, I didn't remember.
If I had, I would have told you this. You deserved to know."

"It's okay," she said.

"I gave birth to twin kits three days after my nineteenth birthday." I looked around. "This is a real good time for anyone to leave who can't handle it."

They all stayed, but I shoved Lara over further on the couch and invited Angel and Scarlett to sit on my other side. I turned to Vivian. "I have this story and one more I need to tell, and I do not promise I won't ...um. Hit the insane switch."

"You won't," she said. "But if you do, we will take care of you, Michaela."

I nodded.

I was living deep in Canada at
the time, well north of Ottawa, deep in Quebec, about two hundred miles west of the Hudson Bay. It was a deeply isolated location. I had spent a few weeks with a group of foxes near a place called Lac Cibougamau several months previously, but I had my nightmares back then, and they reluctantly asked me to move on. That was when I conceived my babies.

I had spent much of the intervening months as a fox. That part of the world is not very hospitable, and even my thick fox fur had trouble. But I was searching for somewhere I could be safe, and once I knew I had kits coming, it became even more imperative I find a place I could raise them. I had only three criteria: no wolves, ample game, and a hole in the ground I could call home. Nothing else mattered. And yes,
that was the correct order.

I thought I had found the right place. And I probably had, by and large.

The kits arrived right on time. I spent the days prior to their births preparing, making a warm den, using the skins of other animals to make it homey. I had food stored, and in the cold, it lasted a long time, although it could be difficult to chew. I had to bring things into the den a day or so before I wanted to eat if I wanted it to defrost. It was often easier to hunt for fresh game, but as it drew closer and closer to the birth, that became increasingly difficult.

It would have been so much easier with a mate, but of course, I had none.

The kits arrived on time, two lovely daughters, each more beautiful than the other. I named them Flora and Fauna, which was probably not a very kind set of names, but I had been alone for a long time, and I'm not sure how sane I really was by then.

Shut up, Elisabeth. It's not funny.

Caring for the kits was hard. I had prepared as best I could, but it was hard. It was difficult to keep myself fed enough to provide a hearty meal for them from my body, but I did it. I learned methods of hunting that expended less energy and were more dependable, and that helped, but it kept me away from the den more than I was comfortable.

Of course, unlike
a natural fox, I knew how to make a hole in the ground warm and comfortable. The kits made it a challenge to keep it that way, though. They didn't exactly come born with sterile bathroom habits.

Yes, Scarlett. Eww indeed.

Spring arrived, late of course, and Flora and Fauna were starting to venture further and further from the den, under close supervision of their mother. We all spent more time as foxes than humans, although I made sure they knew how to shift. I don't know how it is with wolf pups, but fox kits can be made to shift with a parent. I could hold my babies, and start my shift, and if I did it slowly, I could draw them with me, and they would shift with me.

With spring came
fishing season. My den was near a lake, just forty yards from the shore. At the other end of the lake was a small fishing shack, but I had not worried about it. It looked very run down, as if perhaps it had not been occupied in a long time, and besides: a few humans in the area from time to time was no threat.

Unfortunately, it was probably the greatest miscalculation I had ever made. The shack indeed hadn't been used in a while, but it was owned by a
n ugly, evil wolf. Judging by his accent, he was out of Quebec City. And that year he chose to fly in to his fishing shack with his equally ugly, evil fishing buddies.

They arrived late one evening, their plane splashing down and scaring Flora, Fauna and me deep into our den. If I had watched, I may have known they were wolves, and maybe I could have carried my babies to safety, but I don't know. I was tired and slow, and perhaps they would have found us anyway.

No, Angel, please don't cry. It was a long time ago.

It was the next morning I realized my mistake. I sat on the hill outside my den, looking out over the lake, and watching the smoke rise from the chimney when the first one stepped outside. He was joined by three others, and if I wasn't sure about the first, I was sure by the time there were four. Four wolves. Four wolves shifting
into fur.

I sent Flora and Fauna deep underground, down into the deepest portion of the den. And then I led a fresh trail away from my den, far away, hoping the wolves would believe the den was empty and they should follow my trail. I listened intently, and when they turned north, away from my den, I thought maybe they wouldn't come this way at all.

But what they did was a big survey, a run all the way around the lake, and they found my trail. But rather than follow it to me, they tracked it backwards, straight to my den.

They knew what they had found, of course they did. It wasn't about game; there was plenty of game
. It was about the hunt. They wanted the werefoxes for their entertainment.

They tried digging into the den, but I had dug it long and deep, and I had buried silver in the walls. They burned themselves trying to dig their way to my pups, but it only slowed them down. Two stayed to guard the den and two returned to their cabin.

By now I knew they hadn't followed my trail. I had taken the trail around another lake, and had been well out of range to know they were at my den. I couldn't hear the frightened cries of Flora and Fauna.

But I arrived back in time to see two wolves carrying shovels and pick axe
s from their cabin, and I knew what they intended.

I tried to lure them away. I tried. I yipped. I called. I taunted them with my own presence. And they knew what I was, they knew I was a mother fox, trying to lure them away, but they ignored me.

They dug up my den.

They captured Flora and Fauna.

They stuffed my babies into a sack, and they carried them to their cabin. I could hear their cries of fear, their cries for their mother.

Oh god, Lara.

My babies, my beautiful, beautiful babies.

They hurt them. They hurt them so much, and they were crying for me, and crying, and I couldn't stop myself.

But of course, all they wanted was to capture me, too. And they did. They set my babies out in a pen, and they made it look like they weren't watching, but when I tried to free them, they rushed out of the cabin, and I was slow and heavy from nursing, and then full of milk and slow from not nursing, and they caught me easily.

They put me in a cage. They put my babies in another cage.

They had cages. Why did they have cages? I never understood why they had cages. Maybe they sometimes brought normal dogs with them, although I've never heard of wolves keeping pets. Maybe they had done this before. I don't know.

They talked to me in French. I didn't speak any. Then one of them spoke in English. Poor English. And that I understood.

They were going to hunt me, he said. If I gave them a bad chase, they would hurt my babies. If I didn't run at all, they would kill my babies, but they would do it very, very slowly.

Then to demonstrate, they hurt Flora.

They were evil. Evil. Can you understand why I hated wolves? Can you understand my torment?

They told me if I could stay free for two hours, they wouldn't hurt me, they wouldn't hurt my babies. They told me to come back at dusk, or they would kill one of my babies. And if I wasn't back by the following morning, they would kill the other. They promised me it would take a long time, and I would hear their cries.

But they let me nurse my babies. They wouldn't let me share a cage, but they would let one baby in with me at a time, and when that baby was done, if I didn't give it back, they would hurt the other one. They let me feed Flora first, and then I had to give her back, and she cried so badly, but I had to or they would hurt Fauna. And then I fed Fauna and they took her away, too.

In the morning, they let me go. They gave me a ten minute head start. Lara, you know, with a ten minute head start, you will never find me. But I was younger, I wasn't as clever as I am now, and I was slow, not recovered from the birth.

I gave them a poor chase, a very poor chase. It only took them ten minutes to surround me. They played with me for an hour, pretending to let me go, then catching me and hurting me, cats playing with a mouse. Then they dragged me back to their shack, threw me in my cage, and pulled out little Fauna from her cage.

The cage was too small to shift, but I did anyway, and I begged and begged them not to hurt her. I begged. They laughed at me, and they spent hours hurting Fauna while she cried for me to save her.

They eventually grew bored, but they told me I had better give a better chase tomorrow. And they didn't let me nurse my scared, hungry babies. I grew thick with milk, but I'm sure it was curdled from my own fear.

In the morning, I begged them again to let us go, I told them the babies would die without me; they would be worthless. And I was slow and hurt from a difficult winter and couldn't give them a proper chase. Just let us go. They laughed and told me to run. They were going to hurt Flora if I didn't run.

I ran, but it was a bad chase, and when they caught me, they broke both my front legs.

You've seen how I can heal. I can heal broken legs almost as fast as you can break them, if I've had food. I hadn't had any, but I could have healed. Except I had a plan. Maybe I could buy time.

They dragged me back to their cabin, dragged me by my broken legs, and tossed me to the ground. "Shift and heal," they ordered.

I shifted to human and said, "I don't heal like wolves do. I am just a worthless fox, I don't heal when I shift."

Of course I did, but I thought if it took several days for my legs to heal, maybe they would give me several days with my babies, and maybe I could escape if they thought I couldn't run.

They ordered me to shift;
they said they would hurt Fauna. I shifted, but I shifted slow, all my shifts in front of them were slow, as slow as I can, which is much harder for me than fast. And while shifting, I thought very, very hard, I don't heal when I shift. I don't heal when I shift. I don't heal when I shift.

They made me shift back and forth, and still I didn't heal. Then I couldn't shift anymore, and I lay there trembling. I told them I needed food, and I could shift once more, then I needed to nurse my babies and heal, it would take me days to heal my legs, and they couldn't hope for me to give even a bad run with two broken legs.

They gave me food, and they ordered me to shift, then they let me in the cage with my babies. But each day they took me out and made me shift, and I said to myself, I don't heal when I shift. I don't heal when I shift. But of course, slowly, I did. I couldn't stop it entirely.

It took four days
to heal. They kept me in the cage when they weren't tormenting me, and I never found a chance to free Flora and Fauna. That morning, they pulled me from the cage and told me to run. I ran, but still, I was slow, and still they caught me too easily.

They were so disgusted, they took turns pissing on me, and then they left me there, trembling on the ground, and ran back to their cabin.

I followed, and when they took Flora from her cage, I shifted, quicker than I had before, and I begged them to let us go.

They ignored me. They didn't even look at me. They hurt Flora, they hurt her, and she cried and cried. I threw myself at them, but they knocked me to the ground, and they hurt Flora until she grew still. Then they threw her aside.

By then, they were bored. Fauna died with one snap of her tiny neck.

I'll never forget that sound, the sound of my baby's neck snapping.

Then they turned to me and said, "Run. You might be more fun to hurt. Your babies weren't worth our time."

I ran. I was still human, but I ran, tearing my feet to pieces. They didn't even bother chasing me. I was just a worthless fox, I wasn't worth their time.

But I wasn't just any worthless fox. I was a wolf hunter. And they had killed my babies.

I waited until it was very late that night, well after midnight, and I
sabotaged their airplane. I found a tool kit in the plane, and in the dark I opened the little panels, and I cut some of the wires almost all the way through, the wires that run the controls. I loosened screws, not all the way out, but enough they would work loose, maybe, under vibration.

I put dirt in the gas tank, and then I plugged the vents with mud, shoving it in so you couldn't see it.

I opened the engine compartment and poured more dirt into the oil, washing it down with lake water.

No, Lara, I had no idea what any
of this would accomplish but I thought if I did enough things, things they might not notice, one of them would make them crash.

Finally I covered my evidence. I closed all the little hatches and I put the tool box where I had found it. Then I turned my attention to the cabin.

They had made a bonfire that night, and the fools hadn't put it out before going to bed. I crept close to the cabin, and I could hear all their heartbeats and hear their breaths, and I knew they were sleeping. I worked as quietly as I could, but I stacked all the dry wood I could find against one side of the shack, and then I used burning embers from their fire, and I set the wood next to their cabin on fire, flaming it into life.

Then I shifted to fox and ran. I led false trails away, and then I led a trail to the lake, letting them think it was also a false trail, but instead I jumped into the lake and swam to a small beaver hut.