I felt the pine needles prick into my bare feet. But I didn’t stop running, I had bigger problems. I could hear the hounds barking. The hunters were closing in on me. A lean greyhound bounded up behind me. I felt it hit my back, as I fell face first on the pine covered floor. My long hair was like a dark blanket across my face. The hunting dog snapping its jaws, attempting to tear my skin. I punched the dog in the chest, sending it  flying in the air. It the hit the ground  where it laid still.  There was a new gash on my shoulder leaking a thick liquid. I limped down the hill using trees as support.  Another creek lay ahead of me. I could probably go on for another two miles before they caught up to me. Even now as I strained my ears I could hear them trashing through the forest. Another dog bounded it's way toward me. As it leaped for my throat I smacked it away with inhuman strength.
One of the few times I was mildly grateful for being a shapeshifter. Superhuman strength. The perks that came with being bonded with my spirit animal were physically amazing; Mentally though, I was drained. My new secret was becoming increasingly difficult to hide from dad. And here I was again, being chased down by a group of hunters that probably included my very own father.
I needed to shift back. I could feel the wolf inside me growling.
It was my only option. Just thinking about shifting into my spirit animal made my skin crawl with anticipation. I breathed in the chilly air. my lungs were burning, my shoulder was cut open, and on top of all of that I was naked in the frigid cold. l bounded into the creek ahead of me. The water was chilling. I thought about my wolf form. clenching my fists, I closed my eyes. It's hard to explain how you shift. First I'm standing there in the water, my black hair at my waist, then my body is extending, gray fur prickling out of my skin, bones snapping and extending into place.
As soon as my paws hit the water I sprint down the length of the creek, curving around my pursuers. I stalk the hunters at a distance. I recognized some natives from the reservation. I managed a closer look. My head low to the ground, my lean furry body moving silently. I caught a familiar smell. My father was making his way through the shrubbery, looking for any leads on the forest floor. It hurt to watch him. He held a shotgun as he scanned the clearing for any tracks. I wanted to run to him and show him what I was. A wolf. A part time wolf that enjoyed loathing in her own self pity that is. I mentally sighed as I watched Dad and the other hunters at a safe distance.
The darkness weaved my fur into the forest. It was getting dark now. I made my way back to town. Dad was probably on his way back home right now. I shifted back to two legs. The cut on my shoulder blade was gone, a nearly invisible scar in its place. I made my way through the trees, across the clearing and into our shed. I shuffled through the dark shed until I found the hidden stash of clothes I kept here for occasions like this. After throwing on some sweats and a tanktop I jumped in through the back window. I landed softly on the ground in my room. I heard the front door open and clang vibrating the entire cabin. Dad was home. I stood up and walked out of my room. I turned around the cramped hallway.
“Hey Dad” I said in a sleepy tone, trying to give the impression I just woke up .He nodded his head, like many of the elders of the tribe did when acknowledged. He looked worn out. It instantly brought a frown to my face.
“How’d the hunt go this time?” I said.
“Chased its tail up toward the East creek, lost it at the bend.” he said
He slumped into his brand new red chair we bought from costco, It's leather whining in protest. I threw myself on the couch, turning on the t.v.
“Maybe you guys should leave it alone. It hasn't caused any trouble…”
“Clair” he said “. It's a beast. It’s on our land.“
flinching at the word beast I stood up straighter. I wasn't a beast just because I turn into a wolf every once and awhile. Or at least that's what I wanted to believe. I stared into my father's eyes. I wanted desperately for him to understand. For three months I’ve been hiding this from him. I couldn't take It anymore.
“Dad, I uh… wanted to tell you something...” I began.
He looked at me like I was about to drop a bomb or something. I shared everything with my dad. All my problems and issues. And he took it really well for a single dad. I stopped mid sentence. I couldn't do It. Not now. Fear made my palms sweaty. I wiped my hands across my sweats and I looked away from him. How do you tell your dad that the stories are true? That in our blood, is some type of voodoo magic that makes you turn into a animal at will.
“Are we going fishing tomorrow?” I said quickly.
“Yep, Hope the salmon will be out in the shallows tomorrow morning. so wake up early.”
His face was clouded. like someone pulled a shower curtain over his features, making them unreadable. He watched the T.V. screen where a colorful commercial danced its way across the screen.
“‘Kay’ then. Night, Dad. Love you.”
“Night, Clair. Don't let the wolves bite.”
I froze at the comment. ‘Don't let the wolves bite’.
I made a decision that night that I would tell my father. He deserved to know. Keeping a secret this big from him felt terrible. I had hope that he would understand. It's been far too long. This secret was wearing us both down. my already small room felt as if it were shrinking that night.
I woke up early the next morning. I made breakfast before he woke up.
“Smells delicious. You should cook more often.” he said
“ I’ll leave that to you dad, I can only cook breakfast and you know it.” I said
“Sadly, that is true.” he said while laughing. I waved my spatula at him threatening.
“Ok, ok, sorry.” he said
My fork was scraping at my plate. Making a high pitched scraping sound. I found myself eating really slowly. I had to tell him today. I was going to tell him today.
            There was an overcast as we made our way through the woods. I balanced the fishing rods on my shoulder as I walked in pace behind him. I focused on the mist that seeped its way through the trees. I wish I could avoid telling the truth as easily as the mist avoided the pine trees.
Once we reached the water's edge I opened a murky green box and pulled out a pink colored bait. It was quiet. But not the uncomfortable silence. The relaxing kind. We could sit and fish here for hours and not say anything. Dad didn't make things awkward, we had a silent way of communicating. I watched him as he stared out across the river with clear eyes. His hair was long and black. A few gray hairs wished to make their presence known. He cast out his line over the water. I almost forgot I had to tell him.
  My stomach suddenly scrunched up. My heart beat wildly from anxiety. Every time time my mind wandered off to watch the water flow downstream or the rustle of pine in the wind my conscience was screaming at me. Any time today would be fine my left brain whisperd. Would I ever have enough courage to spit out the truth? I could feel my hair turning gray from the stress. My line tugged. It startled me so much I nearly dropped the rod. I pulled in the line, unhooked the fish with clammy, shaking hands and put it in the bucket. All the while my dad watched me closely. His eyes unmoving. My mouth opened. All that came out was inaudible mumble. I couldn't do it. I couldn't tell him because I feared that he would not understand. He looked at me intently. He saw the stress in my eyes.
“It was you, wasn't it. In the woods last night” he said calmly.
“What” I said confused. He stared at me with a solemn look of understanding. He knew.
“Why didn't you tell me Claire?” he said.
“You know?, you know that I am a… a... “ I whisperd.
I was trembling. I was shaking. My breathing was in ragged breaths as a tear ran down my face. He held me to his chest as I weaped like the child from years ago. His voice woke me from my trance
“It's always been the males of our tribe that connect with their spirit animal. and even that's rare.” he said as we were walking back home. I was quiet. I followed quietly, not daring to look up. He stopped and turned around to face me. His grey eyes held sorrow and confusion.
“Clair, why didn't you tell me?” he said.
I looked up at him and breathed in the smell of pine and fish.
“I was afraid that you would see me as a beast. And I didn't know how to tell you.”
“I don't see you as a beast Clair, I see you as my daughter. And to know that you hold that strong of a spirit inside your blood makes me proud.” he said with tearful eyes.
I giggled.
“Don't get all sentimental on me know, Dad.” I said.
“Im serious, your mother would be proud.” he said.
I felt something tug at my heart. I shifted uneasily at the mention of my mother. He walked back up to our cabin. Me in step behind him, trying to remember my mother's smile.
He cooked the fish on the grill, and we had a feast in my honor. I didn't feel like a fire was trying to burn me anymore. I felt ok.  As simple as that sounds. It felt strange to know that I had no secrets to hide.
  That night dad tucked me in bed. He stood up  quietly leaving me to my thoughts. I looked out my open window at the dark green forest. There long green arms swinging side to side. I closed my eyes listening to the sway of the pine.
“Good night little spirit, don't let the wolves bite.”