My back hurts…again. It nags at me constantly like a mother-in-law tongue wind. They warned there’d be pain and I was prepared. I wanted the change so much, they were right about that; wanting in making the pain easier to bear but they didn’t warn me about the constant ache. 1
When I came to myself they told me there was a difference between ‘Lycanthrope’ and ‘Werewolf’ and the difference was control. The more control I had, the better my chance of becoming Lycan. Were’s weren’t respected (not even liked) and it all had to do with control. Werewolves changed with the moon, they howled and groaned under their burden; were savage in more ways than one - it wasn’t just about the biting it was also about the involuntary nature of their change.2
Lycans, on the other hand, lived by control. It was their religion so to speak. They were tolerant of the newly converted and treated them like cubs. However with that tolerance came the teaching. They gave me a primer made of skin and blood called ‘I can Lycan.’ it was a bible to them because it held all the rules about controlling change. To me it was more a ‘fun with Dick and Jane’ for Lycanthropes. It was pretty basic and I’d been reading all my life before the change. Although Lycans can read, they prefer not to because of their short attention span and the need to run; I learned quickly and could soon control the change with minimum pain. Now I only had one more thing to learn: I must learn to kill quickly and cleanly so that I didn’t infect others and create unwanted Weres.3
The need to run overcame me once I’d learned how to control the change so I ran. My body moved smoothly under me and running was a joy and furthermore, I smelled the woods around me and could sense every Lycan and Were who’d been here before me. I could hear the rustling of leaves, while the smell of blood and smoke far away awoke my hunting instinct. An unfortunate rabbit became dinner and I exulted; still hungry but with the edge gone from the desperate fear that I might not be able to hunt. That would make me an outcast, fit only to become a Were. 4
I felt the wind change and sensed Weres nearby. There was pack, hunting in human form and they were hunting me. I turned and ran as fast as the wind whistling beside me, panting loudly but treading lightly to save my energy. As soon as I found a place to hide I changed. The human scent would throw them off and I might be able to escape by seeming to be an innocent caught in the woods. Weres seldom acknowledge their otherselves when in human form and their hunting skills are less refined. They don’t have enough control to manage their wolf sense either and so my scent was lost to them as soon as I made the change.5
As soon as my breathing steadied I made myself a little nest and settled down to watch. They were on foot, for no horse will carry a Were no matter what form he’s in but they had dogs with them; the dogs coursed the wind and I admired their sleek lines from my place of hiding. One of the reasons I had wanted to become Lycan in the first was that as a human I was unattractive with sallow skin, lank short hair that grew where it wanted and too skinny to look healthy. As a Lycan I was perfect, lean of body with fur that was wiry and tough. I must have dozed off, when I awoke late afternoon had turned to evening and the Weres gone. 6
I changed again, shivering slightly as the night air touched my skin and then I raced back to the pack. I was greeted with fond welcomes. The pack leader pounced on me and rolled me over and the rest of the pack nipped me and later licked me. After I had told my story I was accepted as a full Lycan; ‘I can Lycan’ was set side until the next cub needed teaching. 7
We cavorted the night away and control was a long way from my mind. I thought no more of it until I found out I was pregnant, now I have to stay in Lycanthrope form until the cubs are born and that’s weeks from now. All the while my back aches; the pain nags. If I thought having one child, as a human was hell - I know that having up to seven cubs as a Lycan will be much worse and will take all the control I can muster.8
Author notes
I wrote this for a contest. I missed the contest but decided to inflict it on you anyway.
What did you think? Please comment!
Comments
1 - 14 of 14
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Wattle,
as always you are too kind. And I can repay you by sending you an original entry to the August Women's Weekly writing competition. -
Pattyann, thanks so much. I know you're busy and you're kind to respond but my name is Lynne or Kethry. (I'm not sure who Karen is. Hang on I'll check.) Is there a Karen in my head? ... Oh yes Karen thanks you too.
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I'm not sure how you know it's accurate to a degree unless you yourself are a lycan.
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Thanks for the critique. I appreciate it. When I post an item in the features box it's because I know its not up to scratch and so welcome suggestions for improvement.
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Edna Sweetlove, The competition I missed was for werewolf and lycanthrope only so I presumed perhaps incorrectly that people would know.
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Rae. Thanks so much for the positive input. I have no problem with criticism when it's constructive. Also when I feature an item it's because I know it's not up to scratch and welcome suggestions for improvement. I will try to incorporate your comment into my edit.
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Very cool, and accurate, to a degree. Good write. Have a good day!
Tiffany -
Well, you've seemed to master the first person experience. All teh story flows well from the characters thoughts. And what an interesting twist, I might add! Brava!
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excellent
This is pretty good? Have experience? Nice flow and story line. I hope that you will continue writing and have a wonderful day! -
I hope you don't mind the honest critique but here it goes. In your opening paragraph, some of your lines could use a period or a semi-colon instead of all those commas.
My back hurts...again. It nags at me constantly like a mother- in-law tongue wind. They warned there'd be pain and I was prepared, however, I wanted the change so much yet they were right about that; wanting in making the pain easier to bear but they didn't warn me about the constant ache.
the second,third, and fourth paragraphs could flow better like this:
When I came to myself, they told me there was a difference between ‘Lycan’ and ‘Were’ and the difference was control. The more control I had, the better chances of becoming a Lycan. Were’s weren’t respected, (not even liked) and it all had to do with control. Werewolves changed with the moon, howled, and groaned under their burden; were savages in more ways than one- it wasn't just about the biting it was also about the involuntary nature of their change.
Lycans, on the other hand, lived by control. It was their religion so to speak. They were tolerant of the newly converted and treated them like cubs, however with that, tolerance came the teaching. They gave me a primer made of skin and blood called ‘I can Lycan.’ It was a bible to them because it held all the rules about controlling the change. To me, it was more a ‘fun with Dick and Jane’ for Lycanthropes. It was pretty basic and I'd been reading all my life before the change. Although Lycans can read, they prefer not to because of their short attention span and the need to run; learned quickly and could soon control the change with minimum pain. Now I only had one more thing to learn: I must learn control in my killing so that I didn't infect others and create unwanted Weres.
The need to run overcame me once I'd learned how to control the change so I ran. My body moved smoothly under me and running was a joy, and furthermore, I smelled the woods around me and could sense every Lycan and Were who'd been here before me. I could hear the rustling of leaves while the smell of blood and smoke far away awoke my hunting instinct. An unfortunate rabbit became dinner and I exulted; still hunger but the edge had gone from the desperate fear that I might not be able to hunt--that would make me an outcast, fit only to become a Were.
just by those small changes alone could make your story with more impact
Rae -
Ms 'Kethry', what a keen mind you have. It is matched by a wonderful imagination and an ability to write better then the best. You’re the best storyteller of all. Thank you.
-- Hope the holiday season offers the answer to all your dreams, Southern Belle. 
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Well, I absolutely loved the imagery here. Whatever a Lycan is, I am sure that "cubs" is a dead giveaway. I always love reading your work, Karen, and this is no different. I truly am sorry that you missed the contest; this is surely a winning write! I am, however, delighted that you have graced AP with this wonderful read. Thank you for posting it! I just wish I had a hundred chances to applaud! Hugs, Patricia
Edited on Dec 17, 4:04 p.m. because 'wrong word'. -
I love reading intellectual comments on poems. "Keep it up" is particularly touching and beautiful and caring and sweet and helpful to the writer. Nearly as good as "kepp on writting, LOL . Yay.
The story is OK, but you assume that everyone knows what a Lycan is. Seeing this is not exactly a standard word, you presume un peu trop.
Edited on Dec 17, 3:56 p.m. because 'why not!'. -
goood write. loved the imegry. keep it up
Jess
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