The usual early morning song of the birds by my window woke me up.
It was always so beautiful whenever they came to my window.
They had been doing that for as long as I could remember.
I gently rose and smiled at them before I remembered the events of the previous night.
I looked down at my hands.
How they had touched Martha's bruises and how they had healed them.
As though they were never there.
It had first happened when she had healed a simple deer her father had hunted.
I had felt pity, touched it, and it had sprung to life, running off.
It had stunned them all.
No one could explain it.
Mother said it was a gift from the goddess, even though wolf powers usually didn't materialize until I had shifted.
My nineteenth birthday had come and passed, I was getting to my twentieth, and I still hadn't shifted.
Whether it was because my wolf abilities had come before my shifting, I couldn't shift anymore.
I didn't know.
