Wolf's Rain Fan Fiction ❯ Pack ❯ One-Shot

My first Wolf's Rain fic! This was a request from arahyacinth on LiveJournal. Goodgrief, was it difficult to write!I thought Toboe would be easy, but of course he's not nearly as simple as he seems. Ah well, I enjoyed writing it and I hope that you will enjoy reading it!^^My apologies for the length, or lack thereof. I thought it would end up longer, but there seemed no need.

 

Disclaimer: I am in no way talented enough to be the creator(s) of this amazing series. The rights belong to… whomever they belong to. Certainly not me, at any rate.

 

Pack

 

Toboe does not remember how he ended up alone. His earliest memory is of waking up in the old lady's house, warmly nestled in front of a fire. He had been very small, and there had been bandages around his ribs then, protecting wounds that he did not remember receiving. The old lady had been bustling about her tiny kitchen, chattering to him cheerfully, and her voice had been so calming that his initial terror had subsided almost at once.

 

He had been found on the edge of town, the old lady had explained later, speaking to him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. A child had discovered him, a tiny little brown wolf pup, unconscious and alone. Mistaking him for a dog, the child had brought it to the town doctor where the old lady had just been fetching her medicine. The old lady had known at once what Toboe was, and had taken the pup home herself to care for him. She had never said what the wounds were from, and he did not remember.

 

Having no recollection of his family, it had seemed very natural to stay with the old lady even after he had recovered. He was lonely at first, missing the pack he did not know, but after a while the sharp sense of loss began to dull and in its place grew a somewhat surprising fondness for his human caretaker. Her presence was soothing and she treated him with great care: always warm and affection, but never coddling. She knew very well that he was no housepet, and therefore took care to give him the respect due to his kind; but she was never afraid of him.

 

After a few months, Toboe had discovered, without really trying, that he could fool a human's eyes into thinking he was one of their own. A villager had visited the house unexpectedly, and Toboe had had no time to hide or escape. He had flinched, expecting a yell or a gunshot, but the man had only glanced at him curiously and commented that he hadn't known the old lady had any grandchildren.

 

The old lady had been terribly amused by the assumption, but she had replied without batting an eye that he was her grandson by adoption. After that, their relationship had grown a little less distant, a little more open and easy. She had enjoyed his company in both forms, and soon he grew comfortable enough with her to feel at ease in either. When he was a wolf, he sat at her feet by the fire in the evenings while she sewed, humming quietly to herself and stroking his ears gently. Sometimes he chose to assume his human form, and then he sat with his arms folded across her lap and his chin resting upon them. On those nights she would put aside her sewing and speak of her life, of her dead husband or her childhood or what had happened in town last week. She liked to thread her fingers through his hair, with the same soft motions she used to stroke his ears when he was in his wolf form.

 

Toboe had grown to love the old lady, and he had been content to live with her. Even so he had felt a certain restlessness, an inexplicable longing for the open and for his own kind. He had never told her, but she had assured him once that he need not feel bound to stay with her. For a moment he had been tempted, very tempted to run out her door and keep going until he was far away from the confines of the town, and back amongst his kin. But he had refused, for the old lady had somehow become his family, as surely a member of his pack as if she were wolf-kind herself.

 

By then he had lived with her for several years, and she was now very old. He had not realized just how old, until the day she fell and did not get up. He had stayed beside her body for a long time, even as it stiffened and grew cold. He had been torn by his grief, switching from human to wolf form as he alternately paced and sat on the floor next to her, wanting to howl at the sky and at the same to scream and sob his pain in a human voice. His tears had fallen in both forms, a seemingly endless stream of them that left salty tracks down his human cheeks and dampened his fur.

 

Finally, evening had arrived and Toboe had risen stiffly to his feet. The townspeople would be here eventually, he had realized, and he no longer had any reason to stay. Calm now, he had leaned down, a human boy, to kiss her cold cheek, and then had padded to the doorway, a small brown wolf. With one last glance back, he had left.

 

At the time, Toboe had felt that he was leaving the last member of his pack. Now, of course, he has found a whole new pack. They are not always warm and gentle to him like the old lady was, but they are no less precious. He is reminded of this tonight when, lost in bittersweet memories of his time with the old lady, he realizes suddenly that his packmates have sensed his melancholic mood.

 

Hige has moved closer, warm and reassuring, saying nothing but giving him a sleepy, affectionate lick behind the ears. Kiba is not far away, watching Toboe with keen golden eyes that are, for once, somewhat softened. He, too, is silent, but his calm presence nearby is enough.

 

Tsume is curled at Toboe's other side, pressed up closer than is his usual wont on comparatively warm nights such as this. He offers no fond gesture or comforting words; he merely looks at him for a moment and then lowers his head to rest on his paws. “Go to sleep, brat,” he says. His voice is gruff, but Toboe can hear the undertone of concern perfectly well. It is not lost on him that Tsume subtly shifts to rest his chin just slightly against Toboe's paw.

 

Toboe does not remember how he ended up alone, but that doesn't matter. It is enough simply to know that he is not alone anymore.

 

~owari~