Flash Fiction Challenge from #StoryDam
Each Thursday, I make some hot tea, cue up some writing projects, and head over to Twitter for chats. The night offers incredible connections and fun engagement. The different chats provide inspiration and encouragement. And sometimes they spark me to write the words that I've need to write.
This week, the #StoryDam chat featured a challenge to write a #Flashfiction story based on the topic of the night.
What do you think?
Be Were the Man
The man appeared in our camp. We didn’t hear him approach and that was unlike us or our sentries. Nothing got into our camp without us knowing, and nothing every got out.
The man stood there, and I’m not sure who was shocked more, the man or my clan.
He ran, and our leader did not give chase. I questioned his choice that day – in my mind only and in my heart maybe, but never aloud. You never questioned the leader. Anyone or anything that dared invade our territory never lived to tell about it.
Until that day. I never understood the choice of our leader, but I have been forever grateful.
I was that man.
It started in my sixth life cycle. My strength and agility had moved me up in the ranks. My expertise on the hunt made me a valuable part of the clan. But proving myself daily was the only way to maintain my position and move forward.
The Day Moon was coming. It did not happen often, but we had felt its pull for many nights and knew it was near. My lot had fallen to inner sentry, close to the leader, which meant heightened awareness would be required.
It rose into the night, casting light bright enough to make even the weakest eye able to see. The clan had settled, but all seemed to stir as the Day Moon rose into her place. I stood my position, alert and prepared.
And then I stood in the middle of camp, now a man among wolves.
I ran. I ran because I knew what happened to those that invaded the territory of the wolves. I ran because I did not understand. I ran because there was nothing else I could do.
The next day, I found my clan. I lowered my head and softened my haunches to show my sorrow and submission. They growled and even nipped at me as I walked into the center of the camp. I held my ground and received their reprimands. I did not respond.
I accepted my lower position – not sure of what had happened or what I had become. I didn't trust myself, and I could tell my clan was not sure if they trusted me either.
The Day Moon was the beginning – when the full moon was closer to the earth than any other time in my life. It was not the only time. Every full moon from then has left me as a man, but only for a day.
My clan no longer accepts me back. I can’t blame them. I don’t smell normal. I don’t act normal. I am not normal anymore.
I am a lone wolf. I am a wereman – alone, unnatural, and determined to find out why I am so that I can make it stop.
Share your thoughts on the story in the comments below or share your own links to flash fiction or werey tails. 😀
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