Wereball Serie - Along Came A Mate

As I floated in the land between sleep and awakening, I realized there were movements beside me and a rasping breath. Opening one eye, I found myself in front of the curious and hairy face of Plutos, my pet.

“Hey P” I yawned, stretching like a wolf, and stroking his soft head currently placed on my stomach.

The incident with the annoyingly hoarse voice that I had renamed Rudolph would simply have been a tiny event that belonged to the past, which I will never, ever repeat. It will always be a reminder of how sad my sense of humor can be. Who rename someone Rudolph for being rude? As well as a warning not to lend your phone randomly. On top of that, a clear note to find some time to date more guys, considering the effect my body had after some unwanted attention from the opposite sex. And from a voice, not even a real person.

Last night, declaring that I needed to sleep, I abruptly saluted the unclassified specimen on the other line, or better, speci-voice, dropped the call and proceeded to block his number.

The person learned my name and could be a psychopath as far as I was concerned. Besides, there was no reason for us to speak ever again... even though I had never felt this way about a voice.

‘Exactly, a voice!’

Funny how our minds and social conventions sometimes worked.

If someone possessed good looks, they could never, ever be considered creepy whenever they approached you, regardless of what their tongues produced, regardless of what they said to you. At a time, when the person in question was short and ugly, he was then labeled as creepy and placed in the stalker category.

To give an example, if Hugh Jackman appeared in front of you and murmured “hey baby” with a wink, the female reaction would be quite different from a “hey baby” coming from the cashier in your neighbourhood supermarket, with oily hair, pimples and braces.

Luckily for me, I had not seen the face behind that mystery voice. Goddess knew who the owner of such a voice looked like.

When my phone beeped, a little anticipation swirled inside me and Plutos pricked up his ears, as if he felt some kind of connection with my internal turmoil.

‘Morning Bunny. Nice talking to you yesterday ;) What are you doing now besides thinking of me?’

With a sigh, I began typing with a wave of annoyance and amusement.

‘Morning. None of your business, Rudolph.’ After hitting ‘sent’, I started typing a second message, and I could not help the treacherous smile that slowly rose to my lips.

‘Go pestered other girls.’

His response was almost immediate, and my impatience startled me.

’I don’t “pester”. I usually get pestered. ′

In fact, I did mention I blocked his number, but then the dude ended up sending me a message from a different number. So, I had turned off the phone ... until this morning.

‘If by” being pestered” you mean flying from flower to flower letting those flowers fall for you, yes, sure, you’re being pestered’

Why am I even doing this?

‘Beautiful metaphor! In fact, I do like all kinds of flowers. They all smell good, or for the most part, and come in so many varieties. I bet your flowers smell amazing’

‘Back to the perverted jokes? So early in the morning? Wow ’

‘It wasn’t a joke. I like flowers and I was paying you a compliment, damn Ivy accepts one from time to time or maybe you’re not used to receiving them that you don’t even recognize one?’

‘How is it a compliment to say that my private parts smell good? Where I come from it’s called an insult.’

‘Okay, then your private parts smell like rotten eggs. Happy? ’

‘You’re disgusting. I am busy now. Goodbye, Rudolph.’

’I’ve never referred to your ‘private parts. Ivy Ivy ... who is the real pervert here? Stop nagging me now, I’m a busy man. Ciao’

‘You implied it and you know it.’

I was waiting for him to answer and when after five minutes no response came, I checked the time and realized how early it was. Around dawn.

Since my mind was already in operation and my body felt energized, I got out of bed and, after a quick cold shower, I noticed that my apartment was still quiet, even from Amaia’s room there was no sound ... I thought she might be training or already in the library since I did not sense her presence.

I cast a worried look at Makena’s room and felt two steady heartbeats inside. Tiziano had remained there. A faint smile appeared on my worried features and concern vaporized into the air.

No matter what happened, in the end, as long as you had friends like family, side by side, everything would be fine.

Deciding to make the most of my day, I took Pluto out. Considering the large size and the obvious reasons, I could not randomly stroll around or the nearby town with him, so we headed for the forest surrounding the campus. The feeling of the morning breeze spread a reborn positivity to my sleepless body.

There was something about early mornings. That quiet moment, before the herd of people flooded the streets in the morning rush, with the birds singing at first light, the milkman delivering milk to every door whistling to himself some forgotten tunes, the group of Chinese elders practicing Thai-chi in the park with a control and a concentration that not even the wisest werewolves could boast of. The melancholy sensation that the smell of damp earth brought with it. The reassuring fragrance of freshly baked bread. The world waking up lazily.

I figured it was somehow a feeling similar to the stillness of a late night.

Opposite though, like day and night. Like darkness and light.

The emptiness of a dark night when the world sleeps elicited an earlier sensation. A walk in the night was also synonymous with reflection and dreams, the ones you would like to realize in a specific moment of your life. It is at night that the noise of the heart, the ticking of anxiety, the buzz of the impossible and the silence of the world are best perceived.

The night was darkness, hence the loss of the compass, the inability to orient oneself...

While the early morning feeling reminded me of hope, that no matter what, there will always be a tomorrow waiting for us. That life goes on, no matter what he threw at you the night before.

As Pluto and I strolled along the edge of the forest, my mind somehow snaked to Rudolph. Chills caressed my skin and I hoped it was the morning breeze. Why was he awake so early too? And why did I ever feel this way, I shook my head, brushing off the unwanted thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Pluto was trotting back home, he was a very intelligent animal, I headed to the children’s hospital, though my shift would not start in an hour.

I liked waking up children, checking their vitals, chatting with them a little. In the morning they were always so cheerful, as it was in their nature as innocent creatures. At night, or in the late afternoon sometimes, things got out of hand, when hope was stolen by fear of loneliness and remembering that they were sick.

Just as the early morning light spread hope and joy within me, for those kids there was no difference.

“Hey hi Ivy! How are you this morning?”

Teresa was probably the kindest human being I had ever been lucky enough to cross my path with. Her long reddish blonde hair was pulled back into a soft bun and her heart-shaped face exuded a sense of positivity. A warm smile decorated her face perpetually.

“Hi Terry! Very well! I just got back from my walk in the woods.” I hugged her quickly, towering over her smaller figure. “And you? Any news?”

Sometimes I would find Teresa sleeping in the children’s hospital, unable to leave some of them for the night. Especially those who had the worst seizures ... It was not a healthy habit, considering that most of them were terminally ill.

It was always a big risk to become attached to them. I had personally done this several times and my heart had broken more times than I could remember.

The sad part was that every time I thought about their faces, I saw, next to them, the disease that had taken them away from us, from this world that hadn’t been kind to them at all.

Federico, Meningioma

Pia, Acoustic neuroma

Ezekiel, Leukemia.

It was almost as if those diseases had a face. A kind of dark shadow with slit eyes, no soul or pupils... with an evil, toothless smile.

And I was their number one enemy. Me and all my colleagues.

“How is Luigi?” I asked as I approached her room. “No more crises for two days” Teresa smiled. A small victory amid heavy losses.

Luigi was a werewolf boy, born with a strange blood disease, so he needed transfusions all the time. And Teresa had developed a special attachment to this boy.

I did not know it at the time, but I should have known somehow that someone like her had a bright and blessed fate with a powerful mate, who awaited her in the future. At that moment, just as I did not know that, she did not know of the existence of werewolves, of that world dangerously so close to hers, of magical creatures often out of control and ferocious.

Often more animal than human...