Just an Old Legend Ch. 05

They sat on the porch together. Helen had brought her plate to the sink and returned to watch her huge friend work one of the bones over. He'd noticed her looking at him after a time, and had picked up the bone, carried it over in his mouth, and began on it anew right next to her, looking at her the whole time. The vibrations created by his teeth dragging over the bone were amplified by the wooden structure, and she also felt it through her bottom. There was some kind of power in those jaws, she thought as she sat cross-legged smiling at him, and after a minute, had swiveled one leg out to touch him. She looked at the sky.

The weather was changing quickly, and they both sensed it. There was a chill in the air now as the temperature dropped, and heavy clouds scudded in, leaving the clearing darkened. He stopped to look around and sniff.

"The environmental site I was looking at earlier was calling for some heavy weather, there's severe storm warnings up for all around here," she stated.

He listened to her, but didn't understand what she'd said about looking at something. He knew that there was bad weather on the way. He had his own indicators for that, and he could smell rain in the distance, cold rain, too. Something not normal for this area at this time of year, he knew. This wasn't the usual cycle of weather - there had been no steady build up of humidity that would be broken by the towering cumulonimbus clouds that might throw lightning and maybe even hail on occasion. This was something larger - a big shift in the air mass. Soon it would not be a good time to be a sailor out in deep water.

Helen looked at him, "What are you going to do, Buddy? Do you have someplace to go?" She didn't know how to handle this. She did trust him, but could he even handle being inside, as wild as he is, she wondered. She had a sudden mental image of him lifting his leg at the couch and squeezed her eyes shut for a second. But the thought of him outside in a bad storm didn't appeal to her either. She looked away wondering what to do.

That brought her gaze to the pot that she'd left out overnight with water for him. Her eyes widened and she got up to get closer. The pot was there still half full of water, but there had been a few donations. He followed her with his eyes, and wanted to run his head into a tree again. If she'd reacted badly to the work that he'd done clearing the beach, he just knew that this wasn't going to help at all.

Helen was staring at wildflowers laid there in the pot, their stems in the remaining water.

What the hell now, she thought? Somebody clears the beach, jams the inlet, and leaves me flowers? She felt an uncertain fear creep into the pit of her stomach. Did she have a stalker? Way the hell out here? She stood transfixed, and didn't notice the quiet clicks of his claws.

"Well this settles it for me, Buddy. You're staying right here tonight. That is, if you don't mind." She turned to smile at him, but he wasn't there. One soup bone was still waiting for him in the large steel bowl, the other lay there picked clean. She spun around and just caught sight of his tail and one hind leg as he vanished into the forest.

"BUDDY!" she called after him, and then added quietly, "please don't go now..."

He was running hard, cursing his foolishness. What had he been thinking? How was she supposed to react to this strangeness? To her mind, there could be no "Aw, you brought me flowers," There could only be the feeling of some unknown possible threat. He pushed himself harder, bounding out of the woods and tearing a black streak across the meadow directly into the cold wind. He didn't care about that. He had one thought that she would certainly interpret as more covert and strange behavior, but he knew something that she couldn't, something that needed to be done, and her uncertain fears be damned. He'd figure out later how to hide what he was about to do, that could wait. But he had to act now. He tried to run faster still as the cold rain began just a little.

He already knew that she kept the boat tied close to the dock, a little too close, and always on the channel side. If he didn't do something now, she'd likely find the boat and maybe the dock destroyed. He tore along the ridge as the rain began in earnest. He should be hunkered down someplace right now, he knew it. He looked through the bushes as he passed. There were no boats to be seen anywhere. He glanced down. The little boat was already pounding against the dock in the white-tipped waves.

He swung away and started to shift, his smooth bounding gait becoming more ragged and violent. This middle form was not as well suited for covering ground quickly, but paws and claws wouldn't be of much use to him in a minute. He lunged at the edge, and as he cleared it, he stretched out as a man in a long arcing dive.

As soon as he felt the water, he made for the surface, and swam in powerful strokes to the dock. Pulling himself up just enough, he glanced around furtively to see if he'd been noticed, but saw no one, and so he set about untying the lines. It was another full ten minutes of hard awkward struggle before the boat was on the sheltered side and the tethers left long to allow movement with the waves that might still find it. The best thing that he could have done, he knew, was to unmount the little motor and leave in on shore before pulling the boat onto the dock to turn it over. But there was a limit to everything, he thought, even what he was prepared to do for her right now. This couldn't be helped. Once he was done, another look around, and if there had been anyone to see him, they'd have seen a huge wolf step out onto the rocks to run up to the cover of the ridge in the silver wall of cold rain.

He tried to find some cover in the meadow, but there was no getting away from the biting wind and the hissing cold rain as he made for the woods. He had several holes to hide in, but he should have gotten to them before getting soaked. Once in the cover of the forest, he became a man again, wet and cold. But doing this allowed him to shed much of the water, and turning back into his middle form again, he could move through the dripping forest easily.

He checked one hole after another, the only one that was dry was now occupied by a bear, and even he wouldn't try to dislodge a bear from a den, not like this. The best that he'd be able to do was kill it inside the hole, and then he'd have a bloody and reeking hole - if he could even fish the carcass out of it.

Helen was inside the house as the storm hit. Even partially sheltered by some trees, she heard the pounding of the rain on the roof. She lit the woodstove and soon had some warmth from it to help keep the air inside dry, but she kept wandering to the front windows. She was afraid now for herself if there was someone watching her, but that was secondary to how she worried for her large friend out there someplace. Helen wished that she hadn't seen the flowers yet. She wondered if she really could have convinced him to come inside before the weather turned this sour. She loved a good storm - always had - once she was assured that there was shelter for her if she wanted it. But now, well there was just no enjoying this, not with the huge wolf that she now cared deeply for out there. She was probably worrying needlessly, and she hoped that was what it was. The thought of him out in this with no shelter, no place to go ...

A completely insane thought came to her as she pictured him in her mind. He was so bright, so intelligent. She had no doubt that if he'd been born with thumbs and could understand her, they'd have a lot of fun with it, but he could probably be kept happy and fascinated once she'd shown him how to work a mouse and use a computer very basically. She thought of children's programs, just basic shape stuff. It was a nutty thought that amused her as she pictured it, but she was at least a little bit certain that he was bright enough for it. It was probably just as well that he was the way he was. She laughed a little, imagining herself coming home to the island one day to find him bidding for a cat on eBay. The thought amused the hell out of her.

She saw him there on the beach or in the open meadow in her mind again. He was one fantastic example of whatever species of wolf that he was. She remembered what she'd inadvertently said to him about girlfriends and it made her sad for him again. He didn't indicate it, but she knew that he was proud of his place in the food chain here and he had a right to be. She thought about his shoulders and the way that he was built. He was big enough and powerful enough to take on at least one freaking bear without a thought to protect her blundering ass. It was her amazing luck to have met the Terminator of wolves. It was obvious that he sure liked her, she was still thankful for that. And damn, he was so gorgeous to look at.

She chuckled a little, remembering where his nose had been headed there on the beach. That wasn't ever going to happen and she resolved to pay more attention the next time in case it was about to, but ...

She admitted to herself that if she were a wolf, anywhere even close enough to his size to allow what she suddenly visualized him doing with a female of his kind, well then she figured that they could both be a lot happier for it. That wasn't possible either, though she did admit that it was a pleasant thought. She wondered just how big a female dog would have to be to be serviced by him. If she knew it would work, she had a thought to get him a St. Bernard or something if she bought the island. Helen thought highly enough of him to want that for him - anything so that he could get laid once in a while.

She chuckled; he'd probably need a pony. That wouldn't work either, she realized. He'd probably just eat the thing. Well, really eat it.

She shook her head with a smirk. She needed to read better romance books.

She turned from the window and went to get an oil lamp. The place was fed electrically by an underwater cable, but before that it was an overhead cable from somewhere. She wasn't sure how reliable the power was in this area during things like this, but she'd spent enough summers in the woods to know that these power lines were long - and it only took one tree blowing down. Her thoughts were confirmed a few minutes later just as she saw the first flicker. She turned on her flashlight just in case, but the crackling boom told her it had been lightning. She shrugged and lit the lamp anyway. As soon as she 'd turned off the flashlight, the power failed.

Slowly at first, the lightning began, but as the last of the daylight finally failed, the storm's intensity picked up markedly. Lightning flickered almost constantly, sometimes managing to find a good solid target someplace while it held on and snarled for a long second or two. The thunder from those near strikes shook the building. Helen found them a bit disconcerting, but remained more concerned for him. With nothing else to do, she went to the door and retrieved the nylon bag.

Out on the porch, he was cold and miserable, but he watched her with interest, wondering what she'd do with the cannon. He watched as she broke it open and extracted the shells, before setting it down again. She got up and looked under the sink with the flashlight. Finding the panel, she removed it, and set the gun inside before going back to the table. He looked at her and was curious now. With a start, he knew that she was reading. He saw their old letters, but she was only looking at them. The papers that she read were new. He shivered, but was resigned to it. At least he wouldn't drown out here under the overhang.

Helen laid the letters out in as close to chronological order as she could, preparing to read part of the tragedy. She had a vague feeling of some small guilt, but that left quickly. The parties in these letters were dead, she told herself, and she found that she was reading them for not so much a prurient interest, but was more hopeful in a way to read a little part of someone's real love story. She just took a quick scan of one of the translations and noted how much this Danaya loved her man. Looking quickly at the other translations she read her happy acknowledgment in receiving his letters to her, so she knew that this love was expressed both ways between them. She thought that they must have ached for each other's touch and wondered how long they'd been apart.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a low vibration that she could just feel through the floor. As soon as she began to pay attention to it, it was gone, but when she was about to reach for the first translation to read it fully through, the shake began again. She looked around, and her eyes went to the window.

She didn't even need the flashlight. She could see his eyes. He shuddered again, and Helen was up and running for the door.

"Buddy! Come here!"

He looked at her and the tail waged slowly. His eyes looked uncertain again.

"If you think I'm going to leave you out there tonight, Mister, you're wrong. You come here, you look like... well you look like something, I just can't find a good word."

His tail swung wider and he shook himself off. A silver arc of water flailed from him and she heard some of it hit the window and wall. He took a careful step toward her.

"Oh come on," she said, "this isn't a time for you to look like the mysterious loner. I've got the stove going and you can dry off and be warm, so come on."

He walked to her and she went inside. Turning around, she saw him hesitate.

"Now you're being foolish, and maybe even stupid here. Come on in."

He walked in and stood dripping on the floor while she grabbed every towel that she could find. The first was her beach towel, and she threw it over his shoulders while she hunted for more. She hoped that big towel would keep him from shaking off water again inside. Dropping the pile onto the couch, she began to rub him down with the beach towel, marveling at how much of him there was. He groaned deeply in a very quiet way as she rubbed.

"See?" She laughed, "You won't get this kind of service out there." He wasn't inclined to argue, he just squeezed his eyes closed in pleasure.

Helen came at last to the one area on him that she felt hesitant to dry for him. She'd had a male dog as a girl and had done this then. She wouldn't have given it a thought if he was her dog, but he wasn't hers and he sure wasn't a dog. Well, what if it were her who couldn't do this for herself? Under those circumstances she'd overlook the awkwardness of a friend doing this for her, so she went ahead and began to cautiously dry his equipment. She didn't know for certain, but she imagined that a male wouldn't like running around with those things cold and wet very much. Helen was careful with his testicles and she tried to be gentle with everything.

She brushed the strangeness of it aside with her usual constant chatter, but his now-wide eyes as he looked back at her made her laugh at both her and him.

She smiled at him. "Sorry Buddy, but I thought you needed this dried too. I'm not trying to get fresh with you, ok?"

He looked unconvinced somehow.

"I'm serious," she joked to him, "Ok, I'll admit that it's been a while since I've had one of these in my hand, but I am NOT trying to cop a feel here, believe me."

The animal's expression remained the same. If anything, Helen thought that he looked just a bit skeptical now as well.

She rolled her eyes, "Look, I'm hurrying here. I don't think either one of us wants me to rub this very much with this towel though I'd probably be impressed. I'm doing the best I can and I'm almost done. Just hold still."

She stopped and grinned at him, "Actually, you probably wouldn't mind that, would you?" She realized that she was still holding onto it and decided that it was dry enough right then – even if it wasn't completely dry, it was good enough.

She looked at his face again and his tongue flopped out.

Helen laughed until there were tears in her eyes. The wolf turned and licked her face. "No no, it won't do you any good to beg. That's not the kind of service that I meant," she chuckled, "this isn't one of those places."

She grabbed another towel and began to work on his legs. She reached for his foreleg and he took it as a game. It ended with her on the floor in a fetal position and him circling her, looking for an opening in her defenses to poke through with his nose. She hadn't laughed this much in so long. She ignored him after a while and got back to drying him.

Soon, almost every towel was wet, but he was a lot drier. Oddly enough, she was now probably wetter than he was, after rolling around defenseless in the small puddles where he'd stood. She stood up, "That was fun, Buddy. I forgot how I like that game. I haven't played that since I had a dog when I was a kid."

She walked to the kitchen with a sigh, "I need to get out more." The thought came to her that she could probably stand to get laid really well herself. She just nodded to herself, "Yup."

A few minutes later, she came back with the stew pot, and a plate. She poured a little onto one plate, and then set the pot down in front of him. He stared at it, and then looked at her.

"Go on," she said, "that's all for you."

She began to eat, "It's probably not what you're used to, but it's still warm, a little, and it'll be good for you, I hope. I can't see anything that might be bad for you in there."

It smelled wonderful to him. He also knew that she had likely been saving it for herself the next day. The thought hadn't escaped him. But he was surprised anyway at her generosity. He paused to sniff it. The thought came to him that this would be the first cooked meal that he'd eaten in... it wasn't worth thinking about, he decided. His tail swung widely and he panted at her with a grin.

"Listen, pal, you'd better not even think about turning your nose up at that," she said it in a mocking tone, but it wasn't lost on him. He dug in.

She stopped eating for a moment, and moved a little closer to him, sitting cross-legged on the floor. She laid her arm over his shoulder, "Look at us, Buddy. Don't we make a fine pair?"

He heard her, but had nothing. She sat eating on the floor with her big friend, happy now. She didn't care what fell out of the sky. When she was finished, she saw that the pot was absolutely clean, and doubted that he's left a molecule of stew behind. She looked at her plate. All that was left was what one would leave behind with an eating utensil, but it wasn't as clean as the pot. She moved the pot and put her plate down, "You're welcome to this too, if you don't mind that I ate it first."

As the man that he once was, he'd likely have pushed the plate away. But if the woman that he loved had offered it to him in these circumstances, he'd have eaten it, he realized. He looked at her. What was the difference, he thought? He was close to there already. The plate was spotless within seconds.

She sat stroking his damp head for a while, listening to the storm. He only sat and looked at her. Now and then, he'd try to get her to scratch his throat so that he could slowly lick her arm as gently as he could manage it.

"I'm so glad that I met you. I hope that we can stay friends here somehow and that you can stay as wild as you need to be." She leaned over and kissed the side of his snout very briefly, "No peeing against anything, though. Try to let me know if you have to go so that I can open the door for you. I'll try to remember to do that anyway."

Helen got up to return to her reading, telling him to make himself comfortable, and reminding him of the warm woodstove. It was easy to forget what he was, she decided. Those eyes always said a lot to her now.