Saint

Romeo nodded his head slightly. He could understand her point. He still had an argument, though.

"You said young blood. That means any young animal would do, right?"

"Duh!!" She somehow managed to send that kind of message through a snarl.

"Why don't you just pick a sheep or something then?"

"Why would a woman rather marry an Alpha than a warrior?" She countered with her own question.

Romeo took some time to think. Why? Why did Mona choose to marry Jake's son over him? Because marrying the Alpha was an obviously better choice.

"Shit!" His eyes widened. "You are going to kill a group of human kids because they are tastier?"

"Yes. And you're not invited."

"I don't want to be a part of it."

"Good for me. Now leave. My Alpha isn't too kind to strangers. Especially on moon hunts."

Romeo felt like the meaning of the phrase 'moon hunt' had been tainted, mangled, rumpled, ruined...

He raised his voice and snarled viciously, letting the wolf lady on the other side know of his immense displeasure.

"You call this hunting?"

"Isn't hunting about catching prey? Who said we have to group up and chase after running prey before it can be called hunting? You idiot wolves and your rigid principles about hunting."

Romeo was about to respond when he heard an echo of howls. Almost immediately after, the wolf the children were playing with shrugged them off, climbed on a stool higher than the rest around, and howled at the moon.

"Shit!" Romeo cursed.

Moon Hunt has officially started.

He turned around and ran back into the woods. At first, he was considering saving the children from their cruel fate. But then, the howls. There were too many howls. It signifies the presence of a large number of wolves. Whoever this Alpha was, he commanded a lot of respect and fear. He wasn't sure he could handle the one lady wolf he was speaking with, but at least he was willing to attempt an attack. But now, that the others were near,....

"Good luck, kids. I will pray for you when next I come across a stream under the full moon."

The forest's well-known trails were his route as he jogged. The sun glazed the world with warmth in golden hues as it descended, enveloping him and casting a wistful vibe over memories of Mona. With each stride, his heart beat steadily like an echo that synchronized to their shared moments of merriment and affection.

The fluttering foliage murmured tales of their pilfered kisses and soft-spoken pledges, a harmonious nature's choir testifying to the deep connection they had. The mild gust wafted Mona's treasured blooms' aroma, blending it with the woody forest odyssey that crafted an aromatic masterpiece enfolding him in reminiscences galore.

From afar, the river lured him with its sweet melody - a serenade that evoked memories of their clandestine refuge where moments lingered endlessly. As the moon rose into view, it cast an ethereal sheen onto the tranquil waters and illuminated the way to their cherished haven, where intimacy and mutual reveries were shared.

As he arrived at the familiar spot near the riverbank, an overwhelming rush of memories flooded his mind. Mona's presence seemed almost tangible as though she stood beside him with their fingers interlaced and hearts connected in a dance of love and trust. The symphony of whispers threading through worries and aspirations harmonized into a melody resounding deep within his soul.

His heart pulsated with yearning as he shut his eyes and surrendered to Mona's memories. Her laughter shone like a ray of hope during the darkest times, navigating him through life's hardships. At that instant, he pledged to treasure their affection eternally; nurture its blazing embers in his chest until they rejoined each other once again amidst celestial bodies keeping vigil over them at nightfall.

"Stay strong, Romeo. Protect those who can't protect themselves."

The thought of Mona's disappointment if he failed to protect the children pushed him to keep going. He had to do something, even if it meant risking his own life.

At the village, the female wolf descended from the elevated stool and returned to the children, who immediately let go of their fears and began to stroke her fur again.

It was a common occurrence for the villagers. The Village Chief sighed. He was a sickly old man who lost his wife just the previous year and was suspected to be near the end of his long, weary, mortal journey on earth. He sat on his stool some distance away from the bonfire and watched as the children jumped and ran around. He stroked his thin beard as his old mind took him back two years before his beautiful wife died.

Ever since the wolf appeared just outside their village, wounded and tired two years ago, life at the village had changed. They had gotten a stronger sense of security, they lost fewer sheep annually, and celebrated the forest spirit more often. It was all thanks to the wolf.

The wolf always appeared a day or two before the full moon and would stay around until near sunrise. It had never attacked anyone, was gentle with the children, and had even protected their sheep once from a pack of hungry wolves. They had their suspicions at first, but after nearly two whole years, they were already used to having it around and had stopped being anxious and skeptical about the wolf. They had even turned its visitation into a sort of festival. Nowadays, on every full moon, a festival would be held, where all the villagers would gather to celebrate life and the spirit of the forest that had been gracious enough to send a protector to them.

As the old, wizened man sighed again, a thought suddenly came to him. What was the wolf's name?

"What is its name?"

He rubbed the bald patch on his head. Why had it not occurred to them to name the wolf in the two years they've known it?

He signaled at a fellow elderly man seated not too far from him, but closer to the fire. This other man noticed the beckoning of his chief immediately and stood up to approach him.

In a few words, both men had come to a conclusion. The wolf needed a name and it was going to be best to get the entire village involved in the naming process.

A conch blew out of nowhere, getting everyone's attention. The conch was a small horn, shaped like a giant snail shell. It was the village chief's grandson that had blown it. The ten-year-old stopped blowing as soon as everyone had gathered around the bonfire for the meeting. He stepped away from the elevated stool that stood in the center of the circle created by the villagers, letting his grandpa take the stage.

The old man stood on his feet and carefully raised his foot after the other to stand properly on the elevated stool, refusing any help that was offered.

"Good evening, my family." He greeted. Family was what he called his fellow villagers. In his words, he was in one way or another responsible for their livelihood, survival, happiness, and their peaceful co-existence, just like his immediate family. As a result, they were family too.

"Good evening, Chief." They greeted back synonymously.

The Chief smiled and nodded.

"Happy Full moon." He greeted again.

"And to you too." Was the chorus answer.

"I hope you are enjoying the festival?"

"Yes!!" They responded energetically. Some clapped, some others cheered and whistled. All showing their excitement.

"I called this impromptu meeting because I and my brother here..." The Chief began, gesturing to the other old man he had consulted. "...came to a realization."

There was some murmuring among the villagers.

"Is there something wrong, Elders?" A man spoke up from the crowd, asking the question on every villager's mind.

"Oh, it's nothing much." The Chief said, dispelling most of their fears with a wave of his hand. "It has to do with the Protector. The wolf has been with us for almost two years now. It was sent by the spirit of the forest and our moon goddess to ensure their loyal worshippers are protected."

The villagers nodded in agreement. True. Very true.

"But is it not weird? It has been with us for almost two whole years, and she still doesn't have a name. We have no name by which to refer to her. Every time we mentioned her, we refer to her as 'The Wolf,' 'the guardian,' and 'our protector,' but no proper name has ever been given to her."

There was some murmuring again, followed by many nodding heads. That was so true. How come nobody made that realization earlier? The names they referred to the wolf as had just naturally stuck. Especially the 'Protector' and 'Guardian.' It just always felt right to refer to her as such.

"That is my reason for this meeting. That we might name the gift of our goddess and the forest to us. I did not want to go through the process of picking a name alone, and it would be nice to add a little naming ceremony to this festival. So, even though I have a few names in mind, I am very open to suggestions."

This statement really pleased the villagers. Who didn't want to be a part of something monumental?

The wolf, on the other hand, was displeased. What was this nonsense fiasco about giving her a name? Did she say she wanted one? She already had a name. She didn't need another. To display her displeasure, she growled at them from outside the circle. Unfortunately, the villagers were by now too excited to notice how dissatisfied the wolf they were planning to name was with this arrangement.

"Let's name her Amanda." A man said.

"Amanda my ass..." Another man rebutted, causing the village chief to interject.

"Mind your language!"

"Sorry, Chief."

"We could call her Em." An old woman gave her suggestion.

"Em?" The other man said.

"As in Emily?" A little girl asked.

"We are not naming our protector after your dead pet, Samantha," the Chief said.

"It can't even be called a pet." An old man muttered under his breath. He chuckled. "More like a pest."

Old Samantha heard him.

"It's not a pest nor a pet. Emily's my child." She defended the late Emily.

"She's a rat, Samantha. Not a sheep, not a goat, not cattle, not a wolf... a rat!" The old man said, much to the ire of Samantha.

"How dare you insult her?" She growled. She was going to say something more, but the village chief wisely cut in.

"That's enough. No more talk about Emily." He said, effectively putting an end to the argument.

As more and more suggestions rolled in and got rejected, the night dragged on until midnight. That was when the moon was at its brightest.