Chapter 8 BALANCING THE WOLF WITHIN
Edeline
Shifting always came with a twinge of discomfort at first. My body had to adjust to the realignment of bones and muscles, molding into a different shape. “It’s always a bit painful at first,” I thought, feeling the familiar ache. “But after a few more shifts, it’ll be nothing.”
Right after the shift, I lay on the cool grass, feeling the earth beneath me as I gazed out at the world through the eyes of my white fur. Everything felt sharper, more vivid, as if I were seeing it for the first time. But before I could fully take it in, my wolf surged forward without warning, knocking me back in the process. Her energy was wild, almost overwhelming, like a storm barely contained. I could feel her power, restless and eager, threatening to overtake me. I forced myself to stay grounded, to hold onto the center of our shared consciousness, even as she strained against my control. "I can't give her too much freedom," I reminded myself, the thought pressing down on me. "Who knows what she'll do to cause trouble?"
She shook her head vigorously, her white fur with grey markings ruffling in the breeze. A contented purr escaped her, and I could sense her pride. “She thinks she’s absolutely stunning,” I mused, smiling inwardly. She felt fantastic, and honestly, I couldn’t disagree.
Everything was vivid and alive. The sun was bright, the grass a lush green, and every scent was overwhelming. “This is incredible,” I thought, taking in the sweetness of the flowers and the gentle rush of the creek. The water babbled over stones, creating gentle ripples before cascading down the cliff into the lake below. Bees buzzed softly, and birds chirped cheerfully—everything seemed so much more vibrant now.
She wobbled slightly, her legs adjusting to her new form. “Steady now,” I urged quietly. But she soon steadied herself and wandered towards the creek. She sniffed and rubbed her fur against the trees, marking our secret spot with her scent. “This is our place,” I thought with satisfaction. I was enjoying this bonding moment with my wolf. She deserved this freedom, and so did I.
As she followed her nose, she picked up our mate’s scent where he had rested near the creek bed. The smell was so intoxicating that it made her eyes roll back in bliss, and a big smile seemed to spread across her face. She was truly amazing.
She let out a soft purr, quickly followed by a whimper. The sound was laced with sadness, a clear sign of how deeply she was affected by what was happening with our partner. I could feel it too, the heavy weight of it pressing down on both of us. "This is hitting hard," I thought, the pain almost tangible between us. Her instincts were fierce and untainted, driving her with a singular focus—to outshine her peers and secure our mate's love. The mere thought of Tatiana stirred something primal within me, and before I could stop myself, a low growl rumbled in my throat. "I need to stay in charge," I reminded myself, feeling the tension coil tighter. Careless actions could lead to consequences that wouldn’t be easily forgotten, and I couldn’t afford to lose control now.
Many new wolves struggle to control their inner selves, unable to harmonize their human and wolf halves. I had spent countless hours in wolf form during my first shifts, learning to manage and understand my other side. “It’s all about balance,” I reflected. Now, I could easily maintain control, guiding her instincts as needed. She acted on her impulses, but always with my permission. Whenever she wanted to act on something I disagreed with, I could steer her in another direction. “She’s not always thrilled about it,” I mused, “but it’s necessary.”
Being a shifting wolf is like having a split personality in your mind. You’ve got two sides—one that’s purely wolf and one that’s human. When you’re in human form, your wolf is kind of like a silent observer in the back of your mind. “It’s like having a shadow,” I thought, aware of their presence and instincts, but staying in control. On the flip side, when you shift into wolf form, it’s like giving them the reins. “They take charge,” I acknowledged, acting on their impulses, but I can still guide their actions, especially if their choices might not be the best. It’s a bit like a mental tug-of-war, where your human side steps in to direct the wolf unless the wolf is overwhelmed by strong emotions.
Today, as we wandered through the clearing, a familiar scent tickled her nose. She was determined to track it down. With her nose to the ground and ears perked, she moved through the forest, the soothing rush of water fading behind her. “This has to be him,” I thought, feeling her excitement.
The scent grew stronger, and she paused, squatting low and waiting eagerly for him to appear. With a playful bark, she crouched down, her front paws digging into the earth. “Come on, Darius,” I urged silently. She scanned the surroundings, her excitement building as she looked for any sign of him.
Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the dense underbrush. Before she could react, a massive grey and white wolf burst through the foliage, charging toward her and knocking her off balance. “There he is!” I thought as he started playfully nipping at her. She responded by rolling, her hind legs kicking him away. With a playful growl, she prepared for her turn to pounce.
My wolf and Darius’s wolf got along splendidly. To her, he was more than just a friend—he was family. “This is what family should be,” I reflected, watching them.
Family.
After an hour of playful chasing, wrestling, and futile attempts at hunting rabbits, Darius's wolf gave my belly a gentle nudge, signaling that playtime was over. He was clearly worn out, and we were both panting, in desperate need of a drink.
We ambled over to the stream, lying on our bellies to lap up the cool, refreshing spring water. The crispness of the water was invigorating, and we savored the moment with our wolves. I made a mental note to keep my wolf’s instincts in check, just in case—
If she caught a whiff of Tatiana’s scent and decided it was time to deal with her for trespassing on our territory. My wolf wouldn’t hesitate to take drastic action if it meant protecting what was ours. That kind of fierce protective instinct is common among wolves, especially when faced with threats.
As we rested, Darius’s wolf and mine nuzzled each other playfully, their tongues darting out to lick faces before flopping onto their backs to soak up the warm sunshine. The comfortable feeling of relaxation enveloped us, a welcome reprieve from the tension.