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Adventures In Living With The Mythical |
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A military veteran is adopted by a werewolf and brought into his pack. Insanity ensues. About "Life With A Werewolf" Life with a werewolf is a dramatic blog. As such the characters in this blog are not real but maybe loosely based on real people. The situations represented are not real but maybe loosely based on real things that have happened in my life. There are a multitude of ways to view life, this is simply one of the ways I have chosen to view mine. Updated Every Friday unless I can't or don't want to. If this is your first time reading this...start here: https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1040400-Welcome-To-The-Pack The first year is available as a compilation in print and on Amazon Kindle: https://a.co/d/gBLLL7E The first year is currently available on audible: https://www.audible.com/pd/B0G3SMJGFN/?source_code=AUDFPWS0223189MWT-BK-ACX0-482... My book, "Dreamers of The Sea" is available now on Amazon: https://a.co/d/0uz7xa3 |
| Sometimes, my mind runs away with me. I and Crash were standing in the kitchen in the morning. He was in human form, drinking a cup of coffee. Light filtered in, the early morning light that feels as reluctant to be up as we humans are at such an early hour - especially during winter. Breakfast was made and eaten in its usual fashion: I did some eggs, and Crash did his thing he does occasionally with the bread and bacon. He fried the bacon next to me, then used some of the grease left over to fry the bread. The scents still hung in the air as the coffee was doing its job of arousing our senses and wills. That was when I'd broached the subject. "So, what do werewolves do differently around Christmastime?" Crash shrugged. "Trim the tree with entrails and blood. We meet..." "Very funny," I interrupted him. He laughed and shook his head, taking a sip while I continued. "What does your species do differently? For real." The images that I had were, well, different to say the least. I'd imagined a werewolf family going north and building a hunting bunker out of snow, then going to take on the biggest game they could, the only game that could challenge them - polar bears and moose. But, as usual, my active imagination had it wrong. I had developed a story about a family of werewolves trying to survive such a trip after one of the polar bears starts going after them instead, and they get injured. It was turning into a Cormac McCarthy type story about the brutality of life in general. But my imagination was quite a ways off base. "Not a lot, to tell you the truth. We're living with you humans cause we want what you have. We want a peaceful life in a nice neighborhood with pleasant neighbors who are friends. With cars in the driveway and children playing in the backyard. A lot of our traditions are yours." "So the tree?" "That was a werewolf tradition at first. We wanted to put something in your home that smelled like us, so we'd go out at night and mark a tree, then convince you to put it up in your homes. Kept the vampires and the trolls away." Crash took another sip, an extended one. I couldn't tell if it was to hide a smirk, or not. I still think he was hiding one. He's kidding right? Of course, he's got to be kidding. "So, besides operation stinky tree, what other traditions do you guys have?" Crash gave a soft chuckle and shrugged. "My family does a hunt. Well, we used to, but as my parents get older it's harder for them. So, I do the hunt. But I tend to stream it for them so they can watch it live and talk to me." "So werewolves hunt?" "No, not all werewolves." He set his cup aside, and looked down as if lost in thought a moment. "Some do. We do. But others don't like hunting much. Had a friend who insisted on baking. She was crazy, even for a werewolf. She'd shift, then bake a sheet cake or a dozen different kinds of cookies. Said she'd rather bake than kill." That threw me for a loop. I looked at him for a moment, then asked the obvious question. "How much fur?" He laughed. I wouldn't let it go. "I'm serious, how much fur in the baking?" "Let's just say it was extra fiber." Just when you think that you know everything about someone. Those Christmas traditions, they're special in their own way. We all have them. Watching Charlie Brown and Garfield, that claymation special with the California Raisins in them. Attending that one church that does the fantastic Christmas pageant. Watching our children put their own Christmas pageant on. It's strange to think that werewolves and other mythical kind do these things as well. They watch the same specials, attend the same services, go to the same pageants. But there's not one special tradition for them. Have they been integrated into our society so long they no longer have their own? Have they always been with us? These are anthropologist questions that I'm not certain will ever be answered. Crash picked up a dish and brought it to the sink. As he prepared to wash a load he said, "Of course there's the annual howling at the moon. We all have to get out and do that." Which I smiled at, because I knew he was kidding. In the reflective surface of the window above the sink, I swore I saw that smile, so I know for certain he was kidding. Had to be kidding, right? |
| It's troubling times for everyone, I suppose. There are memories I hear from others, memories of Christmas presents piled so high in front of Christmas trees in the living room that you could barely see the star at the top of it. Boxes lovingly wrapped with expensive paper, ribbons and bows, each with their own name and card attached. Gifts piled so high it becomes a literal sea of wrapping paper for small children to wade through and a garbage truck's nightmare come day after to deal with. Then there's the food, food that was lovingly prepped and baked. Fights in the kitchen are almost always forgotten in the mornings. That is, unless you're the guy half drunk by ten AM in the corner with the children trying to explain to them that Santa Claus is really a stalker looking for any excuse to snatch a bad child up and make them disappear before New Years. Yeah, a quick apology to my ex brother-in-law about giving your kids nightmares. Guess I got carried away with my description. But this year feels a bit more subdued than those. The gifts for a lot of people aren't piled as high. The food budget has been trimmed back. As a parent, I can imagine that feels a bit like a failure to your kids. They may believe in Santa, but you know where Santa really comes from, and your bank account isn't capable of conjuring up as generous of a version of the fat man this year. At times, it can be easy to forget that there's still magic in the season for children, regardless of how many gifts they get or how many times you've watched Charlie Brown. I've asked Crash if there were any special werewolf traditions. He told me the story of Krampus, of course, which I think I've talked about before. About how he steals bad children in the night and gives them to good werewolf pups. It makes sense for a werewolf's version of Christmas, if you think about it. But, there was something mentioned. He hadn't specifically banned me from talking about it, so I'll mention it. It was how him and his mother would shift, and hunt together. They'd bring the beast down and bring it in for his father to help clean, that they'd later cook. The meal was then shared by them, with all the fixings that they'd throw in and assist together with in their own special way. This leads me to the thought of Christmas being more than just boxes covered in enough wrapping paper to lose a small child in. It seemed to be more in that description for one family than fighting over gifts in a store, or wearing out the Amazon delivery people. There was a true magic of the season at that moment for that family. Perhaps the magic of Christmas, if there's any real magic in it, comes from things just like that. Not from hearing Mariah Carey for the millionth time. Not from overworking store employees. But from the small moments in time that are shared with loved ones. Driving around and looking at the decorated houses. Watching the Christmas specials with your family. Enjoying that special holiday performance by a local group. And of course, the Christmas villages. I wonder if mythicals have their own version of a Christmas village? Maybe where kids come and sit on Krampus's knee. Perhaps one child plays the bad kid caught by Krampus. I could see the Rougarou doing some sort of version of eggnog that wouldn't be edible for humans. Heck, it might not be edible for most mythicals. The minotuars would, of course, run a Christmas tree lot. Cause of course they would. Then there would be the caroling, oh boy can I imagine the caroling. Sadly. Mythicals of all kinds in their shifted forms, singing a chorus of songs designed for their special version of the year. All to celebrate, well, what we celebrate really. Whether that's the religious reason, or the familial one. And I can hear all choruses of voices singing in their own off-key tones that may sound beautiful with special kind of ears. But to my human ones, it would sound like a pack of dogs trying to chase down a bull, an alligator and a confused troll. Well, however you enjoy it, just try to enjoy this coming holiday season. After all, just like the special says, Christmas doesn't come from a store. Perhaps it means just a little bit more. Or something like that. |
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