We searched for anything larger than a hare, but we found a frozen badger. I felt sorry for those creatures freezing to death in the night chill, but I was very hungry.
As a human, I didn't properly eat for days.
My human self was giving the final scraps of meat and bread to my three year old son, Castor. I struggle each day, refusing to eat meals so my child isn't hungry.
I come from a large family but now all of my relatives are dead because of this evil war. I'm thirtyfour and a widow. My husband was a werewolf like myself, but conscripted to the front line against his will, and I'm sure his own side (if you can call them friends) shot him. It's just a coincidence that his death occurred during a full moon when there had been a ceasefire.
I now have to work in a factory making shells for the war effort. Damn them. I get paid little, and food is scarce. If only ma and my big sister Ella all survived so that they could magic up pies and cakes out of thin air. Unfortunately I never possessed the sacred Witch Wolf trait. I just scavange for plants and animals like a carrion. It's embarassing.
I and two other werewolves, both elderly ladies with athritis, discover this poor frozen badger. I lift it in my jaws, and carry it home. I store it in the pantry, now stained with old blood. By morning, my boy is woken up and I give him the remainder of the milk, and I divide the dead badger into three portions.
My guests, who are my old neighbour werewolf friends, Betty and Polly, have returned to their human selves.I dish out the portions of badger to them.
"No m'dear," Polly said. "You keep all that darlin."
"Yes Azalea, you and Castor must eat it", said Betty. "We're old. I prefer a cup of tea instead."
I thanked both of them. They're sacrificing themselves for me and my little boy. I still give them slices of meat anyway. I ventured into the kitchen and get out my ma's lovely flowery china cups and saucers. I boiled water in a kettle and poured it in ma's pretty blue teapot. The tea smells like wonder.
"I'm sorry but we've run out of milk," I said feeling ashamed.
"Oh don't worry about that!" Polly smiles. "We'll drink it black."
As I made their black tea with sugar cubes added, Castor was ripping pages out of the library book on herbs and flowers. I scolded him for this and took the book away, as my old friends sipped tea and Castor cried for his book. I'll be in trouble with the librarian again.
These ladies Polly and Betty have been like adopted grandmothers since I lost everyone. I lost my husband, my parents, three brothers and sister including all my inlaws.The old ladies keep us company and watch over us like matriarch shewolves.
Only last week the city of Paris was bombed by zeppelins. If the war isn't over soon then we might all die. If the enemy comes here then I must protect my son and all I have in my wolf's shape and defend my home til the death.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
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