ExFic 5: Call of the Wolf

The sound of wolves howling was not unfamiliar to Katrina. Even before meeting Wearwolf, she would hear the chorus of cries echoing from the forests around the village. She never really thought about it until now, but she always thought it sounded so magical and mysterious. She had wondered what profound and inspiring messages were carried by those long-reaching voices.

“WHAAAAAAASSSSSSUUUUUUUUUP!?”

Needless to say, Katrina was feeling disappointed on a number of levels.

“HEY BROTHER, NICE HEARING YOU AGAIN,” Wearwolf screamed out to the full moon. “HOW’S THE FAMILY?”

The response came as a long howl. The thought occurred that Katrina had never met any Wearwolves other than her own and she never really considered whether her empathic link with Wearwolf allowed to understand the others or not. Apparently, it didn’t.

“GOOD, GOOD,” Wearwolf replied. “IS MOM OKAY!? SHE WASN’T DOING SO WELL LAST I SAW HER.”

A long, mournful howl echoed across the night sky.

“OH, I’M SORRY TO HEAR THAT,” Wearwolf called out. Despite hearing it as a loud scream, Katrina could sense the disappointment in his voice. “I HOPE SHE GETS BETTER SOON. GIVE HER MY LOVE, OKAY?”

Another howl, this one a little more cheerful sounding.

“NO, NO, THAT’S ALL RIGHT!” Wearwolf shouted with polite panic. “YOU DON’T HAVE TO…”

Wearwolf was interrupted by a new voice. This one was younger and higher pitched than the one before and had a sort of yip to it.

“HI, NIECE,” Wearwolf replied, trying to sound cheerful as opposed to incredibly annoyed. “HOW ARE YOU?”

The niece’s howl was practically a squeal.

“THAT’S NICE,” Wearwolf called out. “HEY, CAN I TALK TO…”

A short, squeaky howl interrupted him.

“WHAT?” Wearwolf asked, hoping the answer wasn’t “Chicken butt.”

More yippy howling.

“THAT SOUNDS VERY LOVELY,” Wearwolf shouted politely. “I’D LOVE TO SEE IT SOMETIME.”

Yippy, squealed howling with a lilt at the end. Probably a question.

“NO, I DON’T KNOW WHERE THEY COME FROM,” Wearwolf answered.

Wearwolf sagged slightly as his niece gave him what Katrina imagined was a lengthy and poorly-constructed explanation.

“WOW, I NEVER KNEW THAT BEFORE,” Wearwolf said after a solid minute of exposition. “YOU’RE A VERY SMART LITTLE GIRL.”

The niece somehow managed to giggle and howl at the same time. Meanwhile, Katrina put her head under her pillow and tried to get some sleep. She woke up to find her head hovering over a bowl of oatmeal.

“Katrina, did you hear me?” came her mother’s voice. She looked up and saw her parents staring at her expectantly across the table. “I asked you a question.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Katrina said, rubbing her tired eyes. She looked down at Wearwolf, who snoozed at her feet. “Wearwolf’s howling kept me up all night.”

“I know, that’s what we’re talking about,” her father said. “We find the howling a little… disturbing.”

“You wouldn’t if you knew what they talk about,” Katrina’s voice creaked with tiredness. She slumped forward and put her head on the table. “He must’ve spent half the night entertaining his stupid niece. The rest of the time, he was gossiping with family members. Did you know his cousin got his butt caught on a branch trying to get the worms out?”

“Obviously, something has to be done about it,” mother said. “I don’t think the neighbors will be too happy with this sort of thing going on.”

“Then there’s the whole thing about ‘the thing’,” Katrina continued. “Apparently, someone had a thing and lost it before Wearwolf left. He kept asking if the found the thing or not, but I don’t think he got a straight answer because he had to ask someone else about it. Then I guess they found the thing again, because he was asking if they knew what it did. Someone said it did something, but Wearwolf had meant this other thing, but nobody knew what the thing did.”

“Maybe you could ask him to stop?” father suggested.

“I dunno, dad,” Katrina said, raising her head a little. “He’s gotta keep in touch with his family, right? I know you two would want to keep tabs on me when I leave.”

“That’s a good point,” mother agreed. “But does he have to do it from inside our house?”

“I guess not,” Katrina answered, allowing her head to drop back down. “But then one of us is going to have to stay up to let him back inside. I don’t want him sleeping outside all alone.”

“We could resize the cat door,” father suggested. “Then he could let himself in and out whenever he wanted.”

“Or maybe he’d prefer sleeping outside anyway,” mother offered. “He is a creature of the forest, after all, and I think he’s better off not jumping out of your loft every morning.”

“How does he get up there, anyway?” father asked.

“I just fuse with him and climb up,” Katrina explained. “I’ll see what he thinks, hold on.”

Katrina lazily slid out of her chair and knelt on the floor. She nudge Wearwolf gently until he stirred.

“What is it?” Wearwolf asked.

“About the whole howling thing,” Katrina said. “Is that gonna happen often?”

“It might,” Wearwolf replied. “Why?”

“It’s keeping everyone awake when we’d rather be sleeping,” Katrina explained. “And, quite frankly, I find it a little annoying.”

“You are aware that I must maintain relations with my family?” Wearwolf inquired.

“Yeah, we know that,” Katrina replied. “But if you’re gonna be keeping us up at night, we’d like it if you’d do it outside the house. Maybe even outside the village.”

“Well, it would be a little inconvenient, but I do not wish to be a burden,” Wearwolf said. “However, I feel it is my duty to remain close to you whenever possible.”

“I know how you feel,” Katrina said. “We can make the cat door bigger so you can come and go whenever you want.”

“That is very kind of you,” Wearwolf accepted. “Although it pains me to do so, I will respect your sleep cycle and howl elsewhere.”

“Thank you,” Katrina said as she stood back up and slumped back into her chair. “He doesn’t really like it, but he’ll do it anyway.”

“That’s good,” father accepted.

“Do not bother yourself with the cat door,” Wearwolf added. “I will just sleep outside, in the cold dirt.”

“Look, we’ll build you a dog house if you want,” Katrina said, leaning under the table.

“No, the crawlspace under the house will suit me just fine,” said Wearwolf.

“Don’t you guilt-trip me,” Katrina said. “I had to listen to you talk about your grandmother’s arthritis all night. If anyone should be a whiney bitch about it, it’s me.”

“Fine, you will not hear me complaining,” Wearwolf said as he stood up and walked to the far side of the living room. “For I will be outside in the rain and snow while you sleep in your cozy little bed.”

Katrina sat back up and looked at her waiting parents with tired and annoyed eyes.

“Just great, now I have to go home to that,” Katrina joked.

“Katrina…” her father started.

“I know, I know,” Katrina said as she got up. “I’ll go and apologize.”

She walked over to Wearwolf and knelt down next to him.

“Look, I’m sorry, all right,” she said softly. “I’ll go with you, okay?”

“Katrina, you do not have to,” Wearwolf replied.

“I know,” Katrina said, stroking Wearwolf’s head. “But I’m not gonna put you out just so everyone else is comfortable. If you need to go out of your way just to talk to your folks, then I’m going too.”

“But I do not wish to bother you just so I can talk to my brother,” Wearwolf conceded.

“Nah, I don’t think I can sleep soundly in my cozy little bed knowing you’re all by yourself in the rain and snow,” Katrina said, half chuckling.

“Thank you, Katrina,” Wearwolf said, nuzzling Katrina’s chest. She wrapped her arms around him and stroked his shoulder.

Katrina’s parents, as well as their pets Cleaver and Mysticat, watched from across the room at the breakfast table.

“I may have only understood half of that, but that’s still sweet,” father said.

“Yeah,” mother agreed. “But those two still have a long road ahead of them.”

Mysticat meowed disinterestedly and hopped off the table.

“Yeah, well, what do you know?” mother replied.

ExFic 4: Final Confrontation with Kumiho

“I think you should have gone to Kumiho’s Rite of Initiation, petty rivalry or no,” Wearwolf said, lying at the foot of Katrina’s bed.

“It’s not petty,” Katrina argued. She curled up on her bed with her arms over her head, trying to shut out the sounds of merriment from the edge of town, shutting out the sounds of impending time. The proverbial sands were slipping through her fingers with each passing day. Far too soon will all her friends be traditionally recognized as adults, each one a testament to the erupting future and the quickly sinking past. “There’s more too it than that.”

“Perhaps you would care to educate me on the finer points,” Wearwolf inquired.

“Fine, we’ll start with history,” Katrina snapped, kicking her legs out as she shifted into a seated position. “If you must know, Kumiho and I used to be best friends. Us, Jaime, and Roger used to be a pretty tight clique.”

“If I am not mistaken, Roger is at least two years older than all three of you,” Wearwolf pointed out, his left ear and brow raised in intrigue.

“Yeah, and we all had major crushes on him, but I don’t think he knew about it,” Katrina said chattily. Her tone became more wistful as she added, “We were practically his minions. They used to call us ‘Roger’s Angels,’ like that old TV show, or that movie. God, me and Kumiho wanted to be just like him.”

“Kumiho?” Wearwolf inquired, lifting his head. The mere concept seemed to amuse him. “She did not strike me as the type. She is just so…”

“Girly?” Katrina finished. “Yeah. If anything, she was a bigger tomboy than I was. She was the first picked in any sport, even over boys. I would promptly be second, because I was the only one who could even challenge her. One-on-one games against each other would practically stalemate. But I loved being on the same team as her. Together, we were unstoppable. We knew each other’s moves inside and out. Or, at least, I thought we did.”

Katrina got up and walked to the window. She leaned against the sill, watching the ceremonial torchlights dance in the distance.

“Only Roger could best us, and I think we just let him a lot of times,” Katrina said to her translucent reflection in the glass. “But then he grew up, went on his Rite of Initiation. I wanted to go with him, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He said I should grow up on my own time, and he wanted to strike out on his own. We all had dreams of becoming Chimera Knights, and I think for the others that day marked the end of them.”

“But I thought someone had gone with him,” Wearwolf said. “When I arrived in the village with you, Roger was still on his honeymoon with Becky.”

Katrina slumped down on the floor, sitting with her back against the wall and her knees pulled up to her chest. Wearwolf sat now, too, in that way that dogs do. She glanced at him for a moment, but she couldn’t meet his gaze.

“He returned from his Rite with more than just a horse,” Katrina explained. “Riding behind him was a girl from another village. Becky. She was the same age as we were, but just happened to get lost in the woods one day while Roger was out there. Legally, she wasn’t an adult yet, so Roger couldn’t marry her, but now he was obsessed with her. I don’t know what happened out there, I was too young to be told, but that’s what happens when you share your Rite of Initiation with someone. You fall in love with them forever.

“It would be two years before Becky could go on her own Rite, and in that time they were inseparable. ‘Roger’s Angels’ were the furthest things from his mind. Ten years of friendship were discarded like an old melon rind. He wanted to spend all his time with Becky, and wanted nothing to do with us.

“The worst part is… You know what the worst part is? Becky is nothing like us. Nothing like us. She’s so… so… domesticated. Sure, she’s smart and pretty and all that, but she has no almost interest in sports or weapons or Chimera Knights or anything. None of the cool stuff, or at least just enough to cheer Roger on. She was into… Hell, I don’t know what she was into, except cooking. She is actually into cooking. I’ve never seen her lose a competition that involved cooking or pass up any opportunity to cook something or learn to cook something. She’s fascinated with utensils and appliances. I think she sleeps with an E-Z Bake oven. And she’s not just into baking, either. You should see her with a wok. It’s frightening. Have you seen the flames used to cook with a wok? A real wok? I can’t even go near that thing, and she doesn’t even roll up her sleeves. And she’s such a traditionalist, too. She’s probably into bunnies and flowers and bonnets and all that other cutesy junk.

“And she didn’t stop with Roger, either. Kumiho was next. She figured boys like Roger weren’t into tomboys like us. Not in ways she felt were important. She wanted to be like Becky now. I told her that was stupid. Any boy worth having wasn’t worth acting like something I’m not.”

“You’re not,” Wearwolf corrected.

“Excuse me?” Katrina asked.

“You said ‘something I’m not’,” Wearwolf elucidated. “Referring to yourself, as opposed to ‘something you’re not,’ which would refer to people in general in this context.”

“Since when are you an English major?” Katrina inquired. “And I thought our meanings were conveyed empathically rather than verbatim.”

“I am merely responding to the shift in your focus,” Wearwolf explained. “I could tell you were talking about Kumiho, but you appeared to be talking about yourself.”

“Are you saying I want to be like Becky? As if,” Katrina dismissed. She was offended, but her tone soon changed to a regretful one when she added, “Like I could be anything like Becky. She’s freakin’ MultiPets Barbie. Who could possibly live up to that standard?”

“It sounds to me like you are jealous of Becky,” Wearwolf replied. “Perhaps you should not be angry with Kumiho after all. She has done nothing to you, as far as I can tell.”

“She betrayed me, Wearwolf!” Katrina snapped, slamming her hands to the floor and glaring at him directly. “She gave up on the Angels just to get boys to like her. Just to get Roger to like her. I was all, ‘To Hell with you then!’ I didn’t need some chick hanging out with me, worrying about breaking her damn nails. You don’t need to change yourself, forget who you are, because one boy… one boy…”

Katrina sniffed. She wiped a tear from her cheek and rubbed her nose. She looked at the single drop of water on her finger and started giggling.

“Look at me,” Katrina said, her voice trying desperately to hold some middle ground between laughing like a maniac and crying like a baby and failing miserably. “I’m crying! I’m fucking crying! All because some boy left me for some chick two years ago! I’m a freaking mess, because the one boy that meant anything to me and my best friend in the whole world left me for some… stupid chick and I’m so stupid because I let them run out on me rather than adjust and let them do what they wanted to do instead of what I thought they should do. They didn’t fit in with my stupid lifestyle, so I just went on without them. For two years, I wanted to run away and leave them all behind because they reminded me of how fucking stupid I was. Because I let one boy… one… boy…”

Wearwolf padded up to her and nuzzled into the bundle of despondency that Katrina had become. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his warm, furry neck. He gave a sympathetic whine as she sobbed into his fur. Two years of misplaced emotion leaked out from her eyes and were summarily absorbed by his fur. Katrina’s tears faded out after awhile to be replaced with sniffling.

“Wearwolf, promise you’ll never leave me,” Katrina requested in a hushed tone.

“You have my word,” Wearwolf promised. “Just promise me you will never hesitate to express your true emotions. Do not give them the chance to build up inside of you. If they ever overwhelm you or if they ever confuse you, I want you to confide in me as soon as possible.”

“I will,” Katrina agreed. “I will.”

That night Katrina decided she needed to talk to Kumiho, get all of it straightened out. She wanted to make up for all the time she wasted hating her and sort out all the garbage between them, Roger, and Becky. By the time she came to this decision, Kumiho had already disappeared into the woods. She had left on her own, just as Roger had. It surprised Katrina. Boys were expected to experience the Rite on their own, but it was rare among girls. Katrina herself was the only other girl in recent memory to go it alone and, just like Kumiho, she had done it of her own free will rather than being rejected.

Unlike Katrina, Kumiho spent several days in the woods. Katrina wanted to speak with her as soon as she returned and she spent many a night staying up late, watching the tree line for signs of Kumiho’s arrival. However, despite her best efforts, she was not the first to know of Kumiho’s return. She learned about it from her mother as she came down from her room one morning.

“What!?” Katrina exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“It was only half an hour ago,” her mother explained. “And you were sleeping so peacefully that I thought it could wait.”

“God dammit, Mom,” Katrina muttered. “Do you know where she is now?”

“She shouldn’t be too far from her house now,” mother replied. “She’s probably there by now.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Katrina said as she dashed for the door. “C’mon, Wearwolf.”

From the living room, Katrina’s father watched her and her wolf leave before turning to her mother and saying, “Okay, I give. I know your Mysticat showed you when Kumiho would return before she even left. Why didn’t you tell Katrina sooner?”

“She needs to fix things on her own,” mother answered as she sat down in the recliner opposite her husband. She took a sip of her coffee and said, “Besides, I think she learns better through confrontation.”

“Confrontation?” father noted. “I thought they were just going to talk, not fight.”

“So does she,” mother explained. “But, well… Heh. If you leave now, you can catch the drama for yourself.”

“Son of a…” father started before getting up and grabbing his coat. “Are you coming or what?”

“Nah, I’ve already seen it,” mother said as Mysticat hopped into her lap. She stroked the cat and it purred loudly. “Besides, I can just catch it on pay-purr-view.”

Katrina and Wearwolf ran down the street. Katrina knew the way almost by heart. Before Becky came around, Katrina probably spent more time at Kumiho’s house than her own. She was already reliving happier days in her mind in hopes of reliving them for real. Unfortunately, what she saw when she turned the corner to Kumiho’s house gave her such a shock that the mental reenactments, and the thoughts surrounding them completely vanished. Kumiho was embracing Rion, the boy who had been trying to all this time to be the surrogate for Katrina’s emotions for Roger, and the sight of them just made her blood boil.

“Gee, Kumiho, I missed ya and all, but not this much,” Rion said, a little taken aback by Kumiho’s show of affection.

“Just act like it, okay hon?” Kumiho requested. “Just a few more seconds. Besides, how often does a hot girl in a buckskin tunic hold you this close, hmm?”

Right about then, Katrina shoulder-tackled her, sending all three of them to the ground. Katrina’s attempts to throttle Kumiho were thwarted when Jaime pulled her off and held her in a full nelson.

“Dammit, let me go, you little…” Katrina protested.

“Calm down, Katrina!” Jaime exclaimed. “It’s not what you think!”

“I said let go!” Katrina shouted, driving her foot into Jaime’s shin. Jaime collapsed in a heap, clutching her shin as Katrina proceeded to lunge at Kumiho. Wearwolf fused with her, but instead of acting as armor as usual Katrina was surprised to feel Wearwolf weighing her down, trying to restrict her movements.

“Stop this, Katrina!” Wearwolf commanded. “You aren’t here to fight her! She is your friend!”

“I’m gonna-GAH!” Fighting Wearwolf in his armor form was unexpectedly painful. Muscles moved in opposing directions all at once in attempt to keep each other from moving how they wanted. It was like being torn apart from the inside, and it looked just as painful from the outside.

“Stand down, Katrina,” Wearwolf said firmly. “You’re hurting me!”

“Then let go of me, you son of a…” Katrina said, growling through the pain.

“It’s just tearing your apart, isn’t it?” Kumiho teased. She got up and dusted herself off. “You don’t know whether to kiss me or kill me.”

“You tramp!” Katrina spat, screaming in pain. “I’ll tear you in half!”

“Katrina, it’s not what you think,” Rion explained. “She…”

“No need to explain ourselves, Rion,” Kumiho interrupted. “I think it’s patently obvious by now. If Katrina wants to throw down, I’m ready to throw down. There’s no way she can take me, MultiPet or no. Even if she can, it won’t change anything. C’mon, Katrina, give me your best shot.”

“You want some of this?” Katrina said. Her muscles relaxed and her breathing slowed but remained heavy. “’Cause a little of this’ll go a long way.”

“If it’s the only way you’ll learn, I’ll take as much as you can give,” Kumiho challenged. “You can even keep Wearwolf on if you wanna, ‘cause there’s still no way you can even touch me.”

“You’re on,” Katrina accepted. “How about it, Wearwolf? I promise not to kill her. I just want to express myself with my fists.”

“I still have reservations, but I trust you,” Wearwolf replied. “I will assist you in this display of dominance, but I will pull your punches.”

“Fine,” Katrina conceded. She stared down Kumiho in her buckskin tunic and tan dress. It was a sort of Native American Indian princess look, simple yet flowing and even had a blue bandana with a feather sticking out. How she retained such a glamorous visage after being in the forest for over a week was confounding. “You ready for this, Kumiho?”

“You shouldn’t’ve bothered asking,” Kumiho said, rolling her eyes. “Trust me, your best bet now is to catch me off-“

Katrina’s claws somehow missed their mark. It was like an optical illusion, the one where the penny is inside a mirrored container but looks like it was resting on top of it. Katrina’s claws were exactly where she thought Kumiho’s face was, but Kumiho was instead about a foot to the left.

“-Guard,” Kumiho continued. “But even that would be futile, because I know every-“

Katrina swept to the side with a kick aimed at Kumiho’s midsection, which had displaced itself and the rest of her body a few inches out of reach.

“-Move you make before you make it,” Kumiho explained. “I’ve always been perfectly matched with-”

Katrina charged forward with a strong hook punch, but managed to pass her target entirely.

“-You before, but now you don’t even stand a ghost of a chance,” Kumiho finished.

Katrina swung back, intent on slamming her elbow into the side of Kumiho’s head. The younger woman instead caught the arm easily and wrenched it behind Katrina’s back. Katrina attempted to swing around the other way, but Kumiho applied more pressure and stopped her in her tracks.

“Now where’s all that anger got you?” Kumiho interrogated. She wrenched the arm a little more to make sure Katrina didn’t try anything funny. “You have to fight with a clear head if you want to be a true Chimera Knight. If you allow rage to distract you, you won’t even be able to take down a chick like me, much less some terrorist or major criminal. Now, are you ready to calm down and act civil for once?”

“Yeah,” Katrina conceded. “Just tell me how you were able to move like that.”

Kumiho leaned forward, putting her head over Katrina’s free shoulder, and whispered, “Look down.”

Katrina looked down. Sitting at her feet was a Mysticat. Unlike her mother’s, which had mostly pink fur, this one was more of a deep violet with white feet.

“Isn’t she just the cutest?” Kumiho squealed, still holding Katrina’s arm behind her. “I named her Bootsy!”

“Cute,” Katrina deadpanned. “So Bootsy allowed you to know what moves I would use so you could dodge them easily?”

“Yep,” Kumiho confirmed.

“But, like with my mother’s Mysticat, you actually have to be touching it in order to see the future, right?” Katrina inquired.

“Yeah, what’s your-“ Kumiho asked. Katrina’s free arm wrapped around Kumiho’s head before she hopped up and dropped to her knees, taking Kumiho’s head along for the ride. Kumiho’s chin collided with Katrina’s shoulder and Kumiho collapsed to the ground.

“Betcha didn’t see that one coming,” Katrina said jocularly.

“Yeah, I did, but I didn’t think it would hurt so damn much,” Kumiho said, rubbing her chin and neck. “Ow. God dammit, Katrina.”

“I’m sorry,” Katrina said apologetically. “Are you okay?”

“No, you could’ve broken my neck with that move,” Kumiho complained as she sat up. “I might even have whiplash, you little bitch.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay,” said Katrina. “And… I want to apologize for being mean to you for the past couple of years.”

“Whoa, I’m not hurt that badly,” Kumiho said. “I might not even need a neck brace.”

“No, I mean it,” Katrina insisted. “I didn’t come over here to fight, I wanted to make up with you.”

“You did?” Kumiho noted. “Wow. I didn’t know that. I only saw the fight. I didn’t know you had other intentions. I’m sorry about goading you into it.”

“That’s okay,” Katrina said. “I guess I still have issues to work out since you left us so long ago.”

“I left?” Kumiho exclaimed. “You’re the one who got all moody when Becky became the center of attention and got pissed off when I started talking about how much I liked her.”

“Uh, no?” Katrina argued. “You got upset because I didn’t want you to be like Becky just to get boys to like you.”

“It wasn’t just about boys, you twit,” Kumiho countered. “I only brought that stuff up because I knew it’d piss you off. I liked Becky because she allowed me to explore another side of myself that I ignored hanging out with just you and Roger. But you couldn’t get over the fact that she stole Roger away to see her as a person than just some chick.”

“Why should I?” Katrina demanded. “You think she’s so great since Roger likes her. I knew from the moment I saw her that she was just some trollop.”

“Becky is not some trollop,” Kumiho argued. “No one else thinks she’s a trollop. After two years, you’d think someone would’ve noticed something.”

“I noticed!” Katrina snapped. “I’m the only one that noticed! It’s written all over her face!”

“I’m so sure. You were fourteen! What made you a better judge of character than any of the village elders?”

“Just because you were too stupid to see it…”

“At least I wasn’t just a closed-minded little brat!”

“At least I’m not a whore!”

“I’m still a virgin, you dyke!”

“I’m not gay, you tramp!”

“Will you too shut up!?” Jaime screamed. “I can’t stand watching you too argue like this! I left because you two were at each other’s throats all the time! You two were too wrapped up in your own little drama to even notice! The whole issue is ridiculous! Neither of you can have Roger anymore, so just get over it! Katrina, Roger’s married to a great woman now, so just try to be happy for him instead of hating on Becky. Kumiho, just because you think Katrina’s acting like a baby doesn’t mean you should too! Now just kiss and make up already!”

There was a moment of stunned silence before Kumiho turned to Katrina and asked, “Did she just insult us?”

“Did she just tell us to kiss?” Katrina asked.

ExFic 3: Odd Jobs

Katrina didn’t really want the job. The only reason she even came to the field that day was to please Mom and Dad. Katrina knew what she wanted to do, and they couldn’t tell her what to do, but she couldn’t just say no to the couple who raised her from childbirth. Fortunately, the job was only temporary.

“So, this is just until the normal guy gets back, right?” Katrina asked.

“A-yup,” the farmer replied, resplendent in his dirt-saturated dungarees and patchy straw hat.

“Caw,” added the black bird on his plaid-shrouded shoulder.

“And all me and Wearwolf have to do is drag this plowshare up and down the field?” Katrina inquired further.

“A-yup,” the farmer replied. He took his corncob pipe out of his mouth and dumped out the used-up contents.

“Caw,” his bird added.

“And when does the normal guy get back?” Katrina asked.

“The doc says he’ll be laid up for about a week,” the farmer explained as he refilled his pipe and lit it. “Onnacounta the accident.”

“Caw,” the bird elucidated.

“This plowshare appears to be far heavier than one man or wolf can haul,” Wearwolf pointed out.

“Yeah, where is the normal guy’s MultiPet partner?” Katrina inquired, noticing the field was devoid of animal life aside from herself, Wearwolf, the farmer, and his Sicrow. “I know we probably wouldn’t be able to work as effectively, but…”

“Tractabull’s laid up, too,” the farmer answered. “Onnacounta the accident.”

“Caw,” Sicrow concurred.

“And there’s no one else on the farm that can handle this?” Katrina asked.

“They’s laid up, too,” the farmer explained. “Onna…”

“…Counta the accident,” Katrina finished.

“Caw,” Sicrow added.

“A-yup,” the farmer confirmed.

“Must’ve been some accident,” Katrina noted.

“A-yup,” the farmer agreed. “The doctor says I shouldn’t even be up myself, onnacounta the accident.”

“Caw,” Sicrow concurred.

“Right,” Katrina said uncertainly. “I hope ya’ll get better soon.”

“So do I,” the farmer said. “I can’t run this place all by my lonesome, and we’re working with a skeleton crew as it is.”

“Okay, I guess I better get to work, then,” Katrina said. “Unless there’s something else I need to know, on account of the accident.”

“Caw,” replied Sicrow.

“None that I can think of,” the farmer said, rubbing his chin. “Although, you might wanna be careful and look out for arms or legs or somethin’ stickin’ outta the dirt. We ain’t found Myrtle yet, and I don’t think I have to tell you why.”

“Caw,” Sicrow repeated.

“Lovely,” Katrina remarked.

Once the farmer was out of their hair, Katrina and Wearwolf set about the task of plowing the field. The first order of business, of course, was…

“How the Hell do we pull this thing?” Katrina wondered aloud. “It’s huge!”

“That did not appear to concern the farmer,” Wearwolf noted. “Perhaps it is not as heavy as it would appear.”

Katrina hefted the yoke and attempted to pull the plowshare on her own. After much straining, the plowshare had failed to move any discernable distance.

“Nope,” Katrina said, letting the yoke drop. “It’s heavier. And I’ve seen the Tractabull they use on this farm. It hauls this thing like its got nothing better to do… Cripes, I can’t imagine what could’ve put that beast into traction…”

“Clearly, chimeric fusion will be key to our success,” Wearwolf pointed out. “Our strength as one will be much greater than when separate.”

“Yeah, and we’ll need all the practice we can get if we’re going to be Chimera Knights,” Katrina replied enthusiastically. “You ready?”

“Of course,” Wearwolf confirmed.

“Then let’s do it like on the TV!” Katrina announced. With a couple sweeping gestures, she declared, “Chimeric fusion, go!”

A bright glow enveloped Wearwolf, making him appear as a wolf-shaped mass of spectral energy. The spectral mass exploded into shards that swarmed about and coalesced around Katrina’s body. Katrina tensed while Wearwolf became fur-tufted gloves, boots, shorts, cloak, and hood on top of the jeans and sweatshirt she was already wearing. They opened their eyes and flexed their claws.

“Chimeric fusion, complete,” Wearwolf reported.

“Kinda a shame to waste such a spectacular sequence on farm work,” Katrina noted. They gave their muscles a good stretch before squatting down to pick up the yoke. It practically flew into the air and they flinched when it came back down with a thud. “Okay, note to self: Things aren’t as heavy when you’re super-strong.”

Katrina and Wearwolf picked the yoke back up and placed it on their shoulders. Their claws dug into the dirt as they pressed forward, against the weight of the plowshare. Slowly and steadily, the plowshare began to move. It was obstinate at first, like a child refusing to leave a toy store without buying anything, but persistence paid off. They soon had a slow and ponderous rhythm going as the plowshare turned up dirt behind them.

“Hey, we’re making good time,” Katrina said, watching the wake of their effort churn behind them.

“I believe the trick is to not look at the rest of the field,” Wearwolf said. “Then the task appears to be less impossible.”

“Hell yeah,” Katrina replied. “I’ve got enough false hope to get this done by sundown.”

“Sunset is only ten hours away,” Wearwolf added optimistically.

“That’s the spirit!” Katrina cheered, or at least tried to through the strain of their burden. “You know what we need? A team name!”

“What would we need a team name for?” Wearwolf inquired.

“For when we fuse,” Katrina explained, jerking the plowshare a little further along. “Separately, we’re just Katrina and Wearwolf, but together we’re something more, right? So we’ll need a name for that. Otherwise, they’re just going to call me Katrina, and I don’t think that’s fair to you.”

“That is very thoughtful of you, Katrina,” Wearwolf replied.

“Yeah, and Chimera Knights always have these cool codenames,” Katrina continued. “Especially ones with armor-type pets like you. So we’ll need a cool codename, too. Something like Red Fury or Black Talon.”

“But we are neither red nor black,” Wearwolf pointed out. “We are more pink and gray than anything else.”

“It’s just an example, Wearwolf,” Katrina said. “Okay, maybe we can be something liiiiiike… Silver Claw, or maybe Moon Claw, or Slash Midnight, or…”

“These names appear to focus on the violent overmuch,” Wearwolf pointed out.

“Well, we’re going to have to sound intimidating if we’re gonna be fighting bad guys,” Katrina explained. “It’s not like we’re going to strike fear in the hearts of evildoers with names like Snowball or Creampuff.”

“Perhaps, but if we are too frightening then everyone else will have trouble trusting us,” Wearwolf argued. “I know I would not be able to trust someone named Spine Ripper or Sleep Killer.”

“Okay, so we want a good balance of pants-wetting and trustworthy,” Katrina noted. “Oh, you know what name I like? Kid Artemis. Artemis is one of my favorite Greek gods. She’s the huntress, the maiden of the silver bow, and she doesn’t let romance tie her down, neither.”

“I see how you can relate to her,” Wearwolf said.

“You don’t like it?” Katrina asked.

“It is not that I do not like it,” Wearwolf said. “I just do not identify with it personally.”

“Well, what names do you identify with?” Katrina asked.

“I do not know of many names,” Wearwolf explained. “We do not use them in the forest.”

“Then why should you care one way or another?” Katrina inquired.

“Perhaps we should stop talking and focus our energies on the task at hand,” Wearwolf suggested.

“But talking is the only thing distracting me from the searing pain in my legs!” Katrina whined. “Maybe we should take a break. How ‘bout it? It feels like we’ve been at this for hours.”

“It has only been two minutes,” Wearwolf informed.

Katrina moaned pathetically.

“I think I’m about to have an accident,” Katrina whimpered.

“Do not worry about the pain,” Wearwolf said. “If I can handle it, then there is little doubt that you can, too.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Katrina said. “You’re just being worn. It’s my muscles taking the strain.”

“Do not forget, for the moment this is my body as well,” Wearwolf reminded. “I feel the pain in our shared muscles as strongly as you do. But with every step, my confidence in our abilities grows. We are getting stronger, inch-by-inch. You may not be able to feel the increase just yet, but by the time we are finished here I would not be surprised if you could haul this plowshare as effortlessly as Tractabull.”

“Yeah,” Katrina agreed. “Yeah, you’re right. We’re not gonna quit! We’re gonna use this experience to make us stronger! We’re gonna… Hold on, I gotta stop for a second. Get off me, will ya?”

Katrina dropped the yoke and Wearwolf popped off of her, snapping back into his wolf form.

“Katrina, I thought we were going to keep going,” Wearwolf said firmly.

“Yeah, I know, but I was getting hot,” Katrina said. She pulled off her sweatshirt, revealing the tan camisole underneath, and tied around her waist. “There, much better. Let’s go.”

Fusing back together again, the two resumed their sisyphonic task. A few hours later saw them lying face down in the dirt. Occasionally, one of them would twitch, but otherwise they remained dead still.

“I think I’ve worn out muscles I didn’t even know I had,” Katrina finally complained after a long silence.

“I believe I have worn out muscles I had not even possessed,” Wearwolf replied.

“I have muscles that got worn out just watching the other muscles,” Katrina countered.

“I have muscles that were worn out just hearing about it,” Wearwolf contested.

“I wore out my Kegel muscles,” Katrina rejoined.

“What muscles are those?” Wearwolf asked.

“Never mind, forget I mentioned it,” Katrina murmured. A moment of silence later, she said, “Wearwolf, if I don’t make it…”

“Do not talk like that,” Wearwolf said. “We will make it.”

“I’m just saying,” continued Katrina, “If I don’t make it back alive…”

“No, you can tell me when we get back,” Wearwolf said. “Just hang on a while longer.”

“No, I have to say it,” Katrina insisted. “I want you to tell Rion that…”

“Tell Rion what?” asked a voice that Katrina recognized as the one she least wanted to hear. Ever. “That you’re finally ready to pledge your undying love for him and let him squeeze a couple children out of you?”

“Tell him to kick your ass to the curb the next time you come a-knockin’,” Katrina corrected. “What in Hell brings you here, Kumiho?”

“The farmer’s wife happens to be the best cook in town, so I figured I could learn a thing or two from her,” Kumiho replied. “Fastest way to a man’s heart, you know.”

“No faster than straight through the chest with a carving knife,” Katrina said. “I can demonstrate on you, if you’d like.”

“Such harsh words,” Kumiho remarked with exaggerated woundedness. “And after I went through all the trouble of bringing you this ice-cold lemonade.”

Katrina could hear the clink of ice against glass as Kumiho shifted her balance.

“Yeah, be a doll and pour that over your head, would ya?” Katrina requested. “I don’t have the strength to throw it in your face.”

“Fine, if you’re gonna be that way, I’ll just drink it myself,” Kumiho threatened.

“Hey, I didn’t say I didn’t want it,” Katrina exclaimed.

“What were you going to do, lick it off my face?” Kumiho inquired.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Katrina accused.

“I think you’d enjoy it more than I would,” Kumiho argued.

“You wanna say that to my face, girl?” Katrina challenged.

“I would if you weren’t laying on it,” Kumiho said pointedly.

Katrina pulled herself off the ground, wincing as she rose, and sat down heavily. She looked up at Kumiho in her simple sundress, a glass of lemonade in one hand and a bucket in the other. Kumiho looked so pretty and domestic, it made Katrina want to retch. It reminded her too much of the girl that married Roger.

“Gimme that,” Katrina said, snatching the lemonade from Kumiho’s hand.

“When Farmer Bob’s wife asked me to bring some lemonade to the new girl, I had a funny feeling she was talking about you,” Kumiho said as she sat the bucket down in front of Wearwolf. Wearwolf hauled himself up and upon finding water in the bucket began to lap it up. Katrina thought to tell Wearwolf not to drink it, if only on general principle, but that would’ve been difficult with lemonade pouring down her own throat.

“Uh, huh,” Katrina replied between gulps. She glanced at Kumiho to find her smiling down on her. She scowled and asked, “What?”

“Dirt becomes you,” Kumiho said with a smooth and gentle tone so phony it grated on Katrina’s nerves. “Maybe you should consider a career as a coal miner.”

“Why don’t you sit down a moment?” Katrina spat. “Or don’t you wanna get dirt on your pretty little dress?”

“Are you insinuating something?” Kumiho inquired, no less duplicitous than Katrina had come to expect.

“Just that you’re a prissy whore, that’s all,” Katrina explained with a high-and-mighty tone before taking another sip of lemonade.

Kumiho humfed, snatched the nearly-empty glass back from Katrina and stormed off. A few yards away, she turned around and called back, “Just because I think there are better ways of attracting boys than pretending to be one, doesn’t mean that I’m a tramp!”

“No, planning your career track around it does,” responded Katrina.

Kumiho stomped back up to Katrina, dumped the glass’s remaining contents on her head, and stomped back towards the farmhouse. Katrina fished out an ice cube that managed to slip down her blouse and popped it in her mouth.

“Refreshing, if sticky,” Katrina sighed around the cube in her mouth and lay back on the ground.

“What is with the two of you, anyway?” Wearwolf asked. “Nothing I have witnessed in the wild quite matches the ill will the two of you display whenever you meet.”

“It’s a long story,” Katrina answered, sucking on the ice cube. “Needless to say, nothing drives humans apart like ideological differences.”