31.2: Friends

Lycer's POV

From then on, I met up with her often; never wandering too far from her group. It wasn't hard for her to break off from her group, the others her age often encouraging her to 'get lost.' I knew she would always go back to them, for the sake of her mother. But the days in which she would sit around being sad at her broken community were done. Instead, she'd come to find me.

"Celestial," I greeted her one day with a big grin. I wrapped my arms around her in a hug and dramatically lifted her feet off the forest floor, spinning her until her laughter echoed in the trees. A human town wasn't far from where her group and I had been traveling so I had broken off for a few days. I picked up some new clothes for myself from their local shelter. They had a book table so I picked up two of those as well. Oscar Wilde for myself and a worn copy of Jane Eyre for Celestial. "I have something for you," I said, pulling the book out of my pocket. She blinked, taking the book from my hands. She ran her hands over the cracked spine and the outer edge of the pages, feeling the soft paper beneath her fingers.

"I um-" she said hesitantly. "Thank you," she looked back up to meet my eyes, "but I can't-" she pushed the book back into my hands, "I don't. . I don't know how to read." My brows furrowed. How stupid of me! Of course she didn't know how to read. She had told me once how she had been a rogue from a young age, confirming that they were once a full pack but an attack ripped them apart into the remaining group they are today.

"I'm so sorry Celeste, I didn't-"

"It's okay," she assures me. "It was nice of you to think of me." She gives a small smile and I see that sadness in her eyes.

"I can teach you," the words leave my lips before I even fully process them.

Her lips part, "Are you sure?"

I nod, a smile on my lips. "Absolutely." I would leave her again with her group, go back to the human shelter and get an easier book. And a journal and a few pens. Every time I saw her, I would teach her what I could. I wasn't a great teacher to be honest. I often forgot to explain things and would only realize when she started sounding out words. The importance of sounds such as 'ch' 'sh' or 'ng' or how some things are confusing because English derives from several languages meaning similar looking words might be pronounced differently based on their origin. Nonetheless, by several months time, she was able to read through some easier level books on her own, albeit a bit slowly.

She came to me late one night, when the stars were shining brightly, and it occurred to me that she likely knew little of the constellations and stars. I was confident she would already know at least a little, as werewolf culture often called for a love of the stars in respect to the moon goddess. So I asked, "What do you know of the stars, Celestial?"

She gave a great pause, "Not as much as I'm sure my dad would have liked me to know." There was a touch of sadness in her words, but more than that - a sense of curiosity. "My dad loved the stars. Mom said he had half a bookshelf full of books about the stars and planets. She said that he prayed to the moon goddess more than any other wolf she knew. I-" she gave a huff and pulled at the grass beneath us. The earth was cool beneath my legs and crickets chirped in the foliage. "I often wonder why the moon goddess chose to take him, chose to let what happened to us happen. If my dad really did love her so, why would she strike him down? What good did that do to her message? To the spread of her so-called love?" Her fist was full of grass now and I reached for her hand, uncurling her fingers and letting the grass fall back to the earth.

"My mom once told me," I started. Her eyes darted up to me. I didn't speak of my parents to anyone. This was the first time I could remember talking about my mom aloud since her passing. "That the moon goddess created werewolves in an act of love and desperation of survival. But that her influence after that was merely well wishes and hopeful thinking. That we can be grateful to her for our existence but that we shouldn't rely on her for more in life. But that when death occurs," I took a breath, a pain in my heart as I thought of my mom who was merely human. Just a girl who fell in love with the wrong man. "That when death occurs, she's there to guide her created kind into a peaceful afterlife. That when they get there, she can keep their souls safe." But who was to keep her soul safe? Would the moon goddess have considered her honorary in the ways of werewolf kind? For all her troubles and love of our kind and maybe for me?

Celeste's eyes were wide as she stared at me. I caught her eye and she looked away. "Is your mom. ." She trailed off.

"Yeah, she is," I answered her unspoken question. "And the few times I've prayed to the goddess, it's been for her sake." I took a deep breath through my nose, begging the pain in my heart to lessen. How many years had it been? Would my heart ever not ache in relation to her?

"Will you tell me more about her?" Would I? Could I?

"Some day," I say, nudging my shoulder into hers. "But for now, tell me what constellations you know."

"Umm," her eyes study the sky, "that's Cygnus," she points. "Mom told me that." She squints. "And that's Hercules, right?"

I nod, "Yeah, that's Hercules." A smile has broken out on my face. "And what about that cluster, over there?" I point to a cluster on the opposite side of Cygnus. Her lips are parted as she thinks but no words come out. "That's Pegasus."

She nods, "Right, Pegasus. I remember that one a bit." She bites her lip as her eyes study the sky a bit more. "Well?" She turns to me. "Are you going to tell me more?" She raises an expectant eyebrow and I give a little laugh.

"Sure, of course I can."