Saturday, February 16, 2013

Lokoti Werewolves aged slower than their human wives or members of the tribe.

(Excerpt of Sororate Chapter Two)


The tribe was used to Declan’s and my extended youth because the fourteen other members of the pack could live up to 200 years.  Lokoti Werewolves aged slower than their human wives or members of the tribe.  Our people held the Werewolves in high esteem because of their history of protection.  In return, the tribe guarded the identities of the pack which included us. 

I turned away from the bed to pass my mate a haunted look, “Phoenix was my first cousin and he was the last family member from my childhood.  You and I are the only two left from our era!”

His eyes watered, “I know B, I know.”

Then I threw my arms about my mate’s neck as I clung onto him and cried into his shoulder.

“I still remember fighting with Phoenix when we were little.”  I sobbed.  “I remember when he used to call me bitch-features, how I would punch him for it.  I remember when he used to pull my hair, or once he kicked a soccer ball at my head but it accidentally hit Uncle Jules and the trouble he got into.”

My husband pulled away so his tearful eyes could meet mine.  “Then tell him all of this.”

He gently turned me around and sat me on the side of the bed, before standing closely behind to rest his hands protectively on my shoulders.  Gingerly, I picked up Phoenix’s cold hand and held it between my warm ones.  I looked on his aged face once more to reminisce.

“I remember the Christmas you ate all of the brandy butter before the plum pudding was served and it made you sick.”  I recanted.  “I remember when Phoebe used to read your mind and tell on you when you did something wrong.  I remember playing Monopoly with you and how you cheated by sneaking money and hiding it under the board.  That was until Phoebe told on you and you punched her on the arm.  I remember I punched you back and you tackled me for it and then we both got into trouble…”

Just then Declan chuckled, “Yeah I remember that night, it was when my family was having dinner with your family at Easter.  I was seventeen and B was fourteen so Phoenix would have been ten.”

Stone exchanged looks of amusement with his father at our unusual reminiscing.  Usually when somebody close died, people recalled the best things about the deceased.  However since my cousin and I fought like brother and sister, our best times were spent fighting.  I wanted to remember my cousin like that, in affectionate enmity.

Then I lightly punched the dead guy on the arm, “And that’s for all the times you called me bitch-features and ran away before I could hit you.”

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