I was sitting on the damn tree stump and angrily dug my dagger into the wood chunk I was holding in my hand.

“Keep doing that and you’ll cut off your finger.” Bran chuckled as he watched me, his light brown hair mussed by the spring breeze. He himself held a chunk of wood, except unlike me he was slowly deliberately chipping away pieces with his dagger. It was already starting to take the proper shape.

“Pretty sure my wood-carving skills won’t get any worse than they already are.” I groaned with frustration as I cut off too big of a chunk, losing the wood I needed for the head of the figurine. “Why do I have to do this again?” I yelled and threw the destroyed chunk onto the small pile of others I had fucked up. This was useless, my hands were covered in nicks and cuts, the splinters under my skin smarted as I flexed my palms.

“Every wolf goes through this when they successfully learn control over their wolf, you know that. It’s a tradition.” He smiled and handed me a new chunk of wood.

“Yeah well it’s stupid,” I growled but took the wood and tried again slowing down my moves this time.

He sighed and set his almost wolf-shaped chunk between us, so he could look at me work. It made me a bit nervous, though I knew he never judged. “You know, most young wolves that I take out here, use only three wood-chunks before they’re done.” I looked up at him, glaring, but he just laughed. “There is nothing wrong with you using more, it just makes me wonder…” He looked me up and down curiously. “What makes you try so hard?” I was at loss for words, confused as to what the hell was he saying. Luckily he didn’t expect an answer, instead, he just looked at the pile of discarded wood. After a second he reached in and pulled out a wooden figure of a sitting howling wolf. “This was your second try. Why did you throw it away?” he asked.

“Its tail is too short.” Akira’s wolf had a long fluffy tail… Father said he liked the tail very much.

“Hm…” He frowned and set the figurine between us, then reached into the pile again and took out another figurine of a wolf standing proud. “This was your fifth try. What’s wrong with it?” he asked again.

“It’s too skinny.” Alistair said Trystan’s wolf was big and powerful, like him.

“Skinny?” Bran frowned looking at the figurine again. “Alright.” With a sigh, he set it next to the last one and pulled out another. This one was howling in mid-step. “Your ninth try. It’s got a long tail, broad shoulders and all… Why did you discard it?”

“I nicked its ear.” I pointed to the ear with the almost missing tip.

“And why is that such a problem? It makes it look tougher.” He smiled stroking the wolf.

“But your figurines are always so detailed, so…perfect.” I sighed, remembering the ones he showed me before we started.

“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “So that’s why you’re trying so hard? To impress me?” he asked, his tone suggesting he didn’t quite believe that. “But why would you? You know I love you, don’t you?” He didn’t expect an answer. We both knew he loved me, that he was proud of me. “So who are you trying to prove yourself to?” he asked, thinking hard. “Yourself?” he cocked his head to one side. “Or maybe… it’s about someone else?” he suggested, giving me my figurine back. I took it touching the little nick in its ear. Bran hugged me then, bringing me to his chest. The feeling of warmth and pack, pack, pack, brought tears into my eyes. “No need little wolf. I love you, and one day Alistair will realize what an amazing person you are too.”

I woke up with a start. I didn’t know why, the dream in itself wasn’t scary but my heart was beating hundred times per second. I took a deep breath as I looked at the ceiling of the hotel, calming myself down. Even when you’re dead you still give me lessons huh? But I wasn’t doing this to prove myself to Alistair, I was doing this for Bran, to avenge him… right? And dammit I could almost hear his voice next to me saying: “So why are you doing this alone? Why aren’t you with your pack?” And dammit I didn’t have a pack! And I had a better chance of finding them alone! I wasn’t doing this to impress Alistair!

With a sigh, I got off the bed and reached for my bag. There in the small side pocket was a small figurine of a howling wolf in mid-step its ear tip almost missing. I held it in my hand thinking of the day I made it. Werewolves were born human, the wolf gene was dormant until the age of eight to nine. That was when children went through their first shift. Then they had a year to learn control and when they managed it the beta took them to the forest and taught them how to carve wood so they could make a wolf which would be their trophy or a mark of their first big success in the werewolf world. If they couldn’t learn control after a year, well… it didn’t happen, but the rules were harsh, for the safety of the species they would have to be killed… It took me two years to learn control… But as the Ghealach wolf, I had some privileges. As I said, our bloodline meant a curse in many ways. Learning how to control the darker side was hard. Even now it was a never-ending struggle… I never understood why the tradition existed, until I went through those bad days in the first month of leaving the pack. At that time holding it helped… It was all dirty now, I needed to clean it…

Gods, what was I doing? Going for a drink with a vampire, running with the Silver Heart pack… Telling my family I wanted them dead… The memory of Lowell’s face was haunting me, making me feel like absolute shit. I was doing this to avenge Bran right? So why didn’t I share my plan with Alistair, with Lowell? The people I really didn’t want to hurt?

A knock on my door almost gave me a heart attack. Fucking hell… I quickly hid the wolf back into the pocket and went to the door, thinking it was probably just room service or something. I didn’t stay in fancy hotels often. Most of the time it was just disgusting motels and then finding a roommate. I didn’t know how these places worked, but I wasn’t expecting anyone either.

“Hello, Reid.” Daniel, it was Daniel. His black hair was gelled and styled to perfection – which I didn’t really like – and his brown-green eyes shone with mischief as he pushed me out of the way so he could get inside and closed the door behind him. “I know, I know we had a date, but I decided we could skip the formalities.” He smiled, taking off his leather jacket. Under it, he had a dark blue shirt and… Oh wow… he had leather pants. Very tight leather pants.