s my

s the water and into the mossy trees

fter I came of age until now our roles have reversed. I take care of Mama now. So that's what I gotta do right now, when she's

tacking my moth

It drops Mama to fight back. Success! My canine teeth snarl and snap, trying to get purchase on the feline's neck.

r varieties, though maybe if they're starving, they'll attack. The panther shifters are as wary of us as we are of them, and besides an occasional wave from a fishing boat sliding un

esn't matter, anyway. It happened, and now Mama's in bad shape, an

listless struggle with death. "Look, Mama. I brought food." I crawl toward the fish, pick it up and bite off the head. Then, like a good

he wheezes. "It can't help me. I'm afraid this is it for me." Her voice comes out in a g

ase don't die. I'll

he blood oozing from Mama's side. As I search, I swat at th

ody from the slew and mak

e blood, can't y

es it with a snap of its hinged jaw. Then, it makes

toward our house, the one I built with my own hands when I was tw

I scramble through the damp bo

cheeks before I offer the suggestion that comes to mind. I only dare speak it in a small

op open, staring at me from a long-ago time and place. "No wolves

end with a noisy splash through the swamp water. "I don't

p the bank toward our house, out o

full grown in the human world, and you came of age as a wolf a long time ago. I

he door to our home. As I

omeone in

with long, glossy hair the color of the night, like the panthers. Is

say, backing against the tin wall. My arms shake with the effort of holding my mother'

me a look I can't decipher. "I'm Ama, and I came to

out a retort, it means she's unconscious... Or dead. I reach

ting life still thrums through h

Ama-woman says, speaking

rd you," I snap.

the door, and something in her commanding presence

here. You're the on

s that you can see through when you hold it up to the light, that I found floating in the swamp one day after a flood. Maybe it'll let the light shine from Mama again, too.

ps onto her face and

," Ama says, crossing her

that's a good sign, but I don't know her, and Mama told me to nev

says

my index finger to pry open Mama's lips,

oughing att

to sit up and whack her on the back a few times, desperation making me

arms as her blood poo

s moods, her quiet spells, her thinking things are out to get us. I know how to bandage scrapes

you," the Am

ce. "What can you do? Ar

s. She doesn't look interested or sad or scared Mama will die. Her expr

ing with suspicion. "Are you a panther? One of yours

t a breath.

about all my life, the moment I've been taught to avoid since I c

a summer storm. "I'm here because you have something my Alpha wants," she s

nicked glance at the four walls, the

finger at me

s up and then bac

," I say. "I can't go anywher

the looks of things, your mom won't

mama, but I also don't want her to die. It's my job to protect her. I'm the caretaker now, and

e her. I'll come with you and see what this Alpha

ut I'm afraid it's not up t

s, even broken toes, are healed by our wolves, but serious injuries like Mama's are another matter

t be surprised, but the wolves can't do anything worse than what's already been done. Mama is dying. If I go to the wolve

doing the very thing she always warned me against, ev