But one fateful night spent with a stranger in a hotel room changed her life irrevocably.

  (Small Fry Chapter 8)

          Sitting here in the attic, I could feel the cold seep through the cracks.  I sensed it was getting late without looking at the time.  I wasn’t wearing a watch and I couldn’t see any clocks however, I felt the darkness approach by the chilled air dropping further below freezing.

          I staved off the cold by keeping the top of my woollen jumper over my nose, as well as the sleeves over my hands.  But I couldn’t stop reading Jessica Riverclaw’s words, I found her story engrossing.  The similarities yet differences in our lives, were fascinating. 

          I must admit, sometimes my head can get lodged up my arse, with my supernatural differences as the Last Circulator and first female Lokoti Werewolf.  So it was nice seeing outside the square I live in, by reading about somebody else's problems.

          Jessica had been an everyday human, with her own career, friends and a life, before she met Flint Riverclaw.  But one fateful night spent with a stranger in a hotel room, changed her life irrevocably.  Sure, she kicked up a fuss at first, then the 1990’s career woman simply did what had to be done.  So did Flint Riverclaw. 

          I could guess what the pack thought at the time, by bringing in an outsider.  But Flint’s best friend John Wisetail and his family, simply made the best of the situation.  They welcomed Jessica with open arms, which helped smooth over the rough edges of her transition.

          When Flint learned that his diabetic wife couldn’t have more children, did he curse the heavens above?  Nope!  Instead, he counted his blessings that his wife and baby were alive.  I could tell he would have cherished both for the time they were with him.  What made the story of my ancestors a sad one, was that Flint ended up outliving them both.

          I remember the stories told by my grandfather Emanuel Riverclaw, whom had been Flint's grandson.  Towards the end, Jessica widowed Flint, dying from a diabetes related illness when she was 59 years old.  Before she died, she'd been made a grandmother by her son David mating with Clara Winter.  Flint would have been 105 years old at the time of his mate’s death, although he would have had the appearance of a man in his fifties.  True to Lokoti Werewolf behaviour, he didn't take a second mate after the death of his first.  

          Sadder still, David Riverclaw died at the age of 32, when he saved his son from getting hit by a logging truck.  So Clara moved in with Flint, to have his help with raising her son who went through the change after his father's death.  At the age of 18, Grandfather married my Gran and Flint stayed on, to help raise my mother and uncle, as she prepared the tribe for the oncoming war.  It was thanks to Gran's foresight as a Circulator, which ensured the tribe became self-sufficient whilst the outside world was in chaos.  It was shortly after World War Three, Flint Riverclaw was murdered by looters in 2063, which he and the pack fought to keep off tribal lands.  

          I was holding history in my hands... the actual lives of people who were served with bad luck however, they lived in love.  Did they mope and sulk?  Well, maybe for a little while, but they climbed back onto the metaphorical bike and pedalled on.

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