Walking Wolf Read Free Page A

inflating inside my flesh, and for a fleeting second I was afraid I’d been bitten by a rattlesnake without realizing it.
    Grass Rope grew very angry with my whimpering and twitching. He turned to give me the sharp side of his tongue, but what he saw made him forget about scolding me. Even though I was in great pain, I knew something must be very wrong, because his face suddenly went pale under his paint. Next thing I know, the buffalo start to bellow and stampede, running away from us.
    Without thinking, I leapt to my feet and started chasing after the fleeing herd, running like a band of Apache was at my heels. I vaguely remember seeing some of the other braves from the hunting party sitting astride their ponies, pointing in my direction, their lances and arrows forgotten. I spotted a young calf that had lost its mother on the fringes of the herd. I closed the distance between us, separating it from its fellows, snapping at its trembling flanks. The frightened youngster bellowed for its mama, but it was too late. She was already miles away, trapped within the nucleus of the herd, helpless to defend her errant child.
    Without fully realizing what I was doing, I leapt onto the calf’s wooly back, sinking my claws and teeth into its neck. The calf shrieked and, overbalanced, fell on top of me. And you better believe that seventy-plus pounds of buffalo calf is nothing to sneeze at. Although I had the wind knocked out of me, I refused to let go. The dying calf jerked and kicked, but to no avail. I tore out its throat with my bare teeth.
    I stared down as the calf bled its life onto the prairie grass. I threw back my head and howled in triumph. And it was only then, as I licked the fresh gore off my snout, that I realized I was covered in fur and that my hands boasted cruel, curved talons in place of fingernails.
    Eight Clouds rode up, reining his pony at a safe distance. His mount rolled its eyes and stamped the ground nervously, uncertain whether to stay or flee. Eight Clouds looked the same way.
    â€œMy son—are you still inside?”
    â€œYes, Father. I am still here.” My voice was strangely distorted and gravelly, like an animal given the power of human speech.
    Eight Clouds nodded, relieved. “You have hunted well. You bring honor to our lodge.”
    Grass Rope rode up, looking positively thunderstruck. “What manner of thing is this?” he demanded, pointing at me.
    Eight Clouds smiled, proud enough to bust. “It is not a thing. It is my son.”
    Grass Rope shook his head in amazement. “He is a walking wolf! Never have I seen such a thing!”
    And that’s how I shapeshifted for the first time in my life—and got my adult name in the bargain.
    I didn’t realize it then, but my boyhood days were gone forever.

Chapter Two
    After my first shapeshifting, my life amongst the tribe became very different. The first, and most radical, change came with my apprenticeship to Medicine Dog. The old shaman had always taken a grandfatherly interest in me, but now I was expected to move my meager belongings from my father’s tipi into his.
    Medicine Dog was a wise man, full of knowledge acquired during a long and eventful life. I remember I once asked him if he hated the Apache for blinding him in the right eye, and he laughed.
    â€œMy life was good in the old days. But it was the life of a fool. I was a mighty warrior back then. I was very proud. Too proud. My vanity made me weak. When the Apache took away my eye, I may have lost the ability to see things in this world, but I gained the ability to see into the Spirit World. Should I hate the Apache for giving me such a wonderful gift, Walking Wolf?”
    As I said, Medicine Dog was a wise man, but I was young and still aching to prove myself as a brave, so I tended to ignore a lot of what he told me. I genuinely liked the old fellow, but it chafed me that I had to tend his fire and fetch his water, just like a woman,