3 – Foxen in the Forest

Eventine Mundelein forced a cough as she walked through the forest. The male on the ladder ahead of her, attaching a camera to a tree, didn’t seem to notice her, or he was pretending not to notice her. Neither made sense.

It was Timber Wheeling. Wade had rousted Timber out of the tunnels early that morning to put up cameras that spanned most of Trevor and Ella’s property, including much of the forest, all of the yard, and a few select rooms inside the main house. The reason was that Rogue had felt for days that she’d been being watched, and Mac and Crew had both caught ambiguous scents in the forest that didn’t seem to belong.

Eventine felt two ways about the reports that were coming in. On the one hand, she didn’t think Khain was making his move yet. They should have at least a year before they had to worry about him, unless her and Leilani changing the past had also changed the timetable of his first wave of attacks. On the other hand, something was coming and coming soon. Coming fast. Some sort of immediate trouble was stalking them, and until they had identified and dealt with it, everyone would be on red alert.

The fact was, the farm was vulnerable, because everyone was clustered in one place. Wolven found strength in numbers, but when every female was clustered in one place, those numbers made them weak in ways no one wanted to talk about. No one wanted to contemplate splitting up the one true mates on purpose, so that one attack couldn’t wipe them all out in one blow. Even Leilani was there, but not there, her body in Trent’s room in the main house, her mind most likely in the meadow. She hadn’t moved or spoken since she’d taken Burton’s hand just for a moment and brought Eventine’s body into the present.

Eventine had been round and round these thoughts, and she was ready to give them up for now. Willow was on the other side of the country, so that was one mated female not immediately vulnerable.

Eventine walked closer to Timber, but didn’t reach out to him in ruhi. He, like Jaggar, probably still thought she was dead and would ignore any communication from her as a hallucination.

She didn’t dare try to contact Jaggar in his current state, it could push him over some edge he’d been walking since birth. He’d been gone for days, heading steadily northwest, not sleeping, not stopping, just moving. They knew where he was because of the news stories coming in. News stories about a rabid wolf who destroyed street lights, and sasquatch sightings on Internet trail cams. Her personal favorites were the reports that the Wendigo was moving south. She’d had to look up the Wendigo, and snarled softly at her memory of the image. The Wendigo was an Algonquin folklore, a mythical, cannibalistic monster that walked on cloven hind legs and had antlers on its head and rotting flesh hanging from its exposed ribs. Eventine was almost offended for Jaggar. The beast was big and he was a little lumpy, but he didn’t look like a Wendigo. He maybe looked like a scary bison that was almost a bear, with wicked teeth that stuck out of its mouth all the time, and claws grown too long to be good for anything but killing.

Eventine stopped near Timber, stepping off the path to wait for him to be done. He seemed to be screwing the same screw for an infinitely long time, but at least she figured out why he hadn’t heard her. He had earbuds in and the way the volume on Hanson’s Mmmbop was cranked, she would have to kick that ladder out from under him in order for him to notice her.

She almost wanted to, so she could yell, “Timmmmbeeerrrrr” as he fell. If the morning didn’t feel so serious, she might try it, but she didn’t know this male as an adult and did not know how he would react. Everyone needed to be on their game and no one needed to be nursing hurt feelings. Something big was going to happen today. She could feel it. Harlan, too, had woken up on edge. They’d only had two nights together since she’d been back, and she did not want to imagine that things would start to go south so soon.

Eventine leaned against a tree and watched Timber, remembering him as a precocious five-year-old who liked to pretend Precious Goat was a horse and he was a cowboy. Other times, he would pretend he was a wolf and Precious Goat was a… well, a goat, and he would stalk her through the tall grasses behind the large farmhouse Evie had grown up in. Sgt. Wheeling, his mother, had lived with no mate in the small dwelling on the back forty of Burton’s land, and so she’d seen Timber often as a child, and even babysat him a few times. He’d been hard to babysit, rarely sleeping, never sitting still, frequently hiding from her in the house, or shifting and hiding from her in the forest.

He’d always been welcome at her and Burton’s house, but she didn’t think he’d ever come over just to visit. Instead, she and Burton always seemed to be part of some grand theatre in his mind. He couldn’t just come up and say ‘hi’, but rather, if they were out on the range, he would watch them from the corn or from the tall grasses in Precious Goat’s pasture, or from the forest on the far side. He would sneak up on them, trying to get closer and closer without them seeing him, even low-crawling over the lawn like he was invisible. If one of them called out, “We see you, Timber,” he would act like he’d been shot, and flop over on his back so they could see him clutch his chest and moan.

Sgt. Wheeling had given birth to another son just days before Khain had poisoned the entire world’s water supply with substances that targeted all the female shiften. Eventine had been one of the ones who had died… kind-of died, and so she hadn’t paid much attention to what had happened to Canyon and Timber after that, but the story went that Timber had kept newborn baby Canyon alive until Burton had regained the presence of mind to check on them. He’d returned home after a week of sleeping in his chair at the station and found them curled up on his bed, waiting for him, baby Canyon fat and healthy.

Someone was coming up behind her. Eventine turned and saw Ella and Trevor, holding hands. Ella’s face was worried. She waved to Eventine, then turned backwards and called for her cat, Smokey.

On the ladder, Timber sang, “Mmmbop, ba duba dop,” under his breath, still working on that same screw, still not looking at them on the ground.

Ella and Trevor stared up at him for a few moments before Ella turned worried eyes on Eventine. “Have you seen a black cat out here? We can’t find Smokey.”

Eventine shook her head, watching Trevor’s face carefully. He wasn’t looking at her. There’d been a tense introductory meeting the day before between her and all of the mated KSRT members and their mates, plus Troy and Wade. Canyon and Timber hadn’t been there and neither had Sebastian or Trent, and, of course, Jaggar had been missing. Eventine had refused to answer most of their questions or share any details of the events she knew were coming. She would share on her own timetable, and Harlan understood that, Wade too, but the others had a hard time with her style. Jaggar would have understood, but he was gone, and suspended from the KSRT. The only detail she had told them was that they, the males of the KSRT, had done one thing very wrong, and that was shelter their mates. Some of the males had been pretty upset, and Trevor had been one of them.

Ella smiled her thanks and the pair passed without Trevor saying a word. He nodded at her at the last minute. She nodded back. He’d get over it. They all would, they had no choice.

She caught her mate’s scent, wrapped up in the scent of his wolf. Nowl appeared from between two trees and came up close to her. He was on rounds, searching for a sign as to who had been in the forest.

He pressed against her side, no words spoken, and she rested her hand on his head. It wasn’t quite proper to “pet” a shifted wolfen, but mates could get away with a gentle touch behind the ears. One true mates got away with much more, apparently. She’d seen some scandalous things from the meadow. Belly rubs, even.

Nowl disappeared back into the forest. Eventine faced Timber again, ready to head around the tree he was up against, putting herself in his line of sight, but someone else was coming. She waited.

It was Rogue and Mac. Mac lifted his chin. “Eventine,” he said, then continued down the path, not even giving Timber a look. Mac hadn’t had an issue with what Eventine had said, he wasn’t one of the offenders. Rogue didn’t want him to shelter her, in fact would never allow it, and he didn’t seem to be called to the behavior the same way the others were.

Maybe because he knew the first foxen or demon to fuck with his mate would be filleted first and only questioned once he was bleeding out in the gutter.

Rogue stayed behind, something on her mind, apparently. She watched Timber for a moment, who had finally turned to a different screw. “When you get old and start losing your hair. Can you tell me who will still care,” he sang.

Rogue turned to Eventine. “No news reports have come in about the beast for sixteen hours.”

“Trent?”

“He says he lost the trail and it’s probable the beast doubled back. He’ll let us know when he picks it back up.”

“So, the beast is heading back,” Eventine mused. Bad news or good news? She didn’t know.

“You think he’s coming after Harlan?” Rogue asked. “Coming to finish the slice and dice job he started after Harlan kissed Leilani-well, you know the story, you were there.”

Timber coughed violently, still facing away from them both. The song changed to one Eventine didn’t recognize. She stared at him for a second, but Rogue took the moment to pull something out of her pocket and hold it out to Eventine.

Eventine took it carefully, sensing the gravity of the moment by Rogue’s demeanor, which had gone thick and quiet and watchful in the space of a second. The item was an inch-high, thick piece of blown glass on the end of a silver chain. Eventine held the glass up. A wolf’s face, fierce and snarling, was on the one side. She turned it over and found another wolf’s face, cunning and watchful, on the other.

“Dahlia designed it, and Heather made it. Ella and Willow came up with the idea." Rogue said, her eyes shrewd, her face set. "They wanted me to give it to you.” She shrugged. I don’t know why, that shrug said to anyone watching, but her eyes said different.

Eventine knew exactly why. This was no mere imitation of the pendants all of the females should have been gifted with at birth. This was a symbol, and Rogue being the one to deliver it was an even bigger symbol. The one true mates were behind her, 100%, and they were ready to fight, if required. They would not create strife with their mates by openly challenging them, for now. But they would do what needed to be done, whether their mates approved or not.

Rogue moved across the path and leaned against a tree, kicking one of her boots up behind her to brace herself. The moment was over, or maybe she was over the moment. She crossed her arms and looked out at the forest. “You think there’s any chance it could be Khain out here?”

Eventine shook her head and didn’t answer for many moments. This question opened the door to Rogue asking her if Khain had infiltrated the forest in the past that no longer existed. Eventine hadn’t decided how much she would be telling about what had happened before. The knowing was a burden, one that she would bear if it meant the others could stay strong in the face of adversity, but she wasn’t certain that was the right choice either. She needed more information, needed to be in the present, in the Ula, for a bit longer before she decided. It might be a case of divulging information only when necessary, if they didn’t hate her for it.

She finally nodded. “I think we have to consider it as a possibility,” she said simply, “since the pumaii can no longer track him when he comes to the Ula.”

Rogue considered her words, nodded once sharply, then kicked off the tree, took four big steps, hooked the toe of her boot around Timber’s ladder and yanked. “TIMMMBERRRR!” she yelled and Eventine tried and failed not to laugh. Her laughter was turned to wonder when Timber didn’t fall in a heap, but rather, leapt clear of the falling ladder, flipped in the air, and landed neatly on his feet on the path next to her, his tools still on his belt, his dark wavy hair not even mussed.

He winked at Rogue, then kissed Eventine on the cheek. “Missed ya, babe,” he said, then headed off down the trail, without his ladder, leaving Rogue and Eventine to stare after him, their mouths open.