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Call of the Hunt Book 2 By Paradox Salem, Indiana, Connors Household I knew something was wrong the moment I came awake. You know how in books and T.V. and movies the character wakes up thinking everything is normal and they slowly realize that's no longer the case? Yeah, that didn't happen. From the instant my brain went from sleep mode to awake I immediately knew things about me had changed. Since I typically slept on my stomach and there was a softness beneath my head, though there seemed to be more of it, I was pretty sure that pressure and cushioning I felt on my chest wasn't some errant pillow. Not only that, but like pretty much every teenage boy on the planet I usually woke up with the typical 'morning wood' and there was a very distinct absence of that. It didn't take a master's degree in biology to figure out that I was no longer the same as I'd been when I fell asleep. Now, of course, that didn't mean I automatically knew what was going on. The signals my brain was processing were distinctly alien to me so I couldn't really comprehend what they were trying to translate to. That cushioning on my chest? That shouldn't be there. So what was it? That lack of hard flesh that had been located between my legs for the last fifteen years? Gone. So where did it go? Plus, how the hell had my hair grown, what, damn near a foot overnight? That's what I tried to do for the first five minutes or so after I came awake, not move a muscle and try to make sense out of the nonsense my brain was telling me I was experiencing. When that didn't work I did the next logical thing that any rational, well-thought individual would do. I screamed. Surprisingly enough, I didn't immediately hear the pounding of feet racing down the hall and my door being thrown open. Instead I heard what sounded like calm voices muted to the point of being unintelligible through the walls and the light thumps of footsteps walking to my door at the pace of a casual stroll. The funny thing was, it seemed to take a really long time for those footsteps to travel the few feet from their respective bedrooms to mine. It was almost like they were walking the entire distance of the house. "Aiden?" I heard Mom ask through the door after lightly knocking, "Are you okay?" "No I'm not okay!" I yelled. Maybe it was because I used actual words this time instead of screaming, but this time the door did fly open and Mom, Dad, and Grandpa, all fully dressed for the day, flooded into my room. They all took one look at me and their eyes grew huge with shock and confusion. "Who the fuck are you?" Dad yelled as his hands balled tightly into fists and what I recognized as his 'combat stare' began to appear on his face. I did not want to be on the receiving side of that look because typically it meant someone was about to get seriously hurt. "And what have you done with Aiden?" "I am Aiden!" I screamed, waving my hands wildly before me in a gesture to keep him away. I didn't know what was going on but I sure as hell didn't want Dad to start attacking me. Grandpa, who had initially shared my parents' look of shock, now appeared to be a bit calmer, albeit still confused. "Terry," he said in a quiet and disturbed voice, "That really is Aiden." Dad's eyes never left me even as Mom looked at Grandpa with eyes that, while I didn't think it was possible, went even wider. "Guy, are you sure?" He nodded slowly and reached up to tap his nose. "It's his scent, there's no mistaking it." That seemed to calm Dad down and he slowly lowered and unclenched his hands. "How is this possible?" he asked, turning on Grandpa to look at him in disbelief. "Has anything like this ever happened?" The older man shook his head while never taking his eyes off of me. "Never in all my years have I heard of the change also causing a change in sex." "Excuse me," I snapped angrily...oh, good, the fear was gone and anger was in its place, I can deal with anger, "Can someone please tell me why the fuck I've suddenly turned into a girl?" "Language young la-er man," Mom chastised, though it kind of lost its effect when she needed to change nouns like that. "I'd say he has every right to be pretty damn upset," Grandpa said as he walked over and sat on the edge of my bed. "I'll try to explain some of this Aiden, but I can't explain why you're a girl now." "Wait," I said, waving my hand for him to stop, "You're telling me there's even more going on here than me spontaneously changing sex? I have tits Grandpa!" "Aiden!" Mom yelled. "Maddy," Dad said tiredly, "bad language is the least of our worries right now." Clearly seeing this was going nowhere, Grandpa clapped his hands sharply to get everyone's attention. "All right, here's what we're going to do. Maddy, why don't you go start on some breakfast for us. Steak and eggs would probably best and the steak needs to be as rare as you can make it. Terry..." He seemed stumped for a second as to what my Dad should do before he simply shrugged. "Go help?" "We should be here for this," Dad insisted while also looking more than a little hesitant about whatever 'this' was. "It's best Aiden and I talked about it alone," his father stated, "I've been through this, you haven't." "You didn't turn into a girl," Mom reminded him. "True," Grandpa allowed, "but that's something we all need to figure out afterwards." "Excuse me," I said grumpily as I folded my arms across my chest. At least, I tried to do that, only my new breasts (ugh) got in the way and I had to settle for doing it beneath them. That definitely didn't help with the angry badass look I was going for. "Would everyone stop talking about me like I'm not sitting right here." "Sorry honey," Mom apologized genuinely, "We're all more than a little off guard by what's happened here. You and Grandpa talk," she said and gave Dad a pointed look, "While your father and I work on breakfast." With that she took Dad by the arm and literally pulled him from the room before shutting the door. Once the door was shut Grandpa turned and sighed before standing up and snatching my robe from where it was draped over my desk chair before tossing it to me. "I think some fresh air would be best right now," he said and walked over to the large glass double doors that led out to the the second floor porch that stretched along three-quarters of the house. Pulling on my robe, and noticing that along with my T-shirt that I'd slept in it also didn't fit quite right now that I had some extra....protuberances...on my chest. Still, I was able to get most of myself covered before belting it shut before I had to wage war with the wild mane of hair that wanted to constantly get into my eyes and mouth. Eventually I was able to get most of it shoved out of my face before following Grandpa outside where he waited at the porch railing looking out at the forest. When I leaned against the rail beside him he sighed once again. "First and foremost," he told me, "I don't know why you've become a girl. That's something we're going to have to try to figure out. As far as the rest, that part I can help you with." "The rest?" I asked in exasperation. "You mean I've got more shit to deal with than spontaneously turning female?" "Have you been feeling different lately?" he asked, ignoring my biting question. It was on the tip of my tongue to once more say something sarcastic about my sudden close encounter of the distaff kind, but when he turned to look at me his serious expression had that remark dying in my throat. Instead of answering I took a few moments to actually stop and think for perhaps the first time since I'd woken up. "Well, yeah," I finally admitted. Not quite sure what it meant, I told Grandpa about the two strange occurrences that had happened over the last day, that being my sudden burst of violence at the party Jake told me about and waking up naked the next morning. "Anything else?" he asked, looking at me closely. "Nothing I can think of," I said honestly. He nodded and his gaze returned to the sprawling forest at the edge of our property. "Aiden, I thought last night that what I would have to explain to you now would be something you just couldn't accept. But, given your sudden...change...maybe it won't be such a wild idea. First, you are aware that there are things going on in this world that seem extraordinary or even supernatural, right?" "You mean mutants and stuff?" when he nodded I simply shrugged. "Sure, I've heard about them just like everyone else. I've never met one though." "You have now," he said and cast me a small, sad smile. "You and I are both mutants." It actually took me a minute for those words to actually sink into my brain. If I were to guess, it would have taken a hell of alot longer had I not woken up with mounds on my chest and my outie turned into an innie. As it was, the explanation kind of made perfect sense. Oh I didn't like it, make no mistake, but at least it made sense. "I'm guessing you've known for a while," I accused, though I didn't really put any heat into it. "Only since last night," he assured me, "It's why your father had me fly in. After that thing that happened at the party he figured you were probably manifesting. I only confirmed it when I got your scent." "My scent? What, do I stink or something?" I asked and lifted my arm to smell my armpit. Ew. Okay, I definitely needed a shower. Despite the situation, Grandpa actually chuckled and shook his head. "Not that kind of scent. You see Aiden, our family line has a fairly specialized mutation that, for whatever reason, has maintained through our bloodlines for decades. We're werewolves." Well, at least he didn't leave me hanging for too long. "Werewolves?" I asked with a smirk, "Are you serious Grandpa?" He didn't laugh like it was a joke, nor did he get angry that I was trying to call him out on some kind of bullshit. Instead he just nodded at the forest. "Take a sniff and tell me what you smell." I looked at him critically and tried to tell if he was serious or joking. When he didn't crack a smile, or even change expression for that matter, I shrugged and tilted my head back to sniff the air a bit. Then I took a deeper sniff. Then I just flat out inhaled the air as a cacophony of scents assaulted my nose. Holy shit! I could smell the trees, the grass, the dead leaves decaying on the forest floor, the tasty meat of a rabbit foraging for food, the delectable flanks of a deer lazily strolling through the woods, even the water of the lake that was probably three miles away. I could smell it all and I knew what each and every part of the scent was. "Holy fuck!" I whispered. "That's just a fraction of how keen your senses are while you're in human form," he informed me. "When you change into full wolf or the war form they're ten times what they are now." "Full wolf?" Something told me this was about to get confusing. With a nod, Grandpa sat down in one of the wooden chairs on the deck and indicated I should do the same with one of the others. "Technically speaking, we have the shifter mutation that allows us to change into a wolf. You've seen werewolf movies right?" I nodded. "It's like that, only we don't turn into nine foot tall rage monsters." I looked at my hand and while it certainly no longer looked like the rough, calloused version I used to possess, it certainly wasn't hairy paw with giant claws coming out of the fingertips. Actually, it looked rather dainty and delicate. The light whack on the back of my head made me blink in surprise. "Hey!" I protested. "You don't get fur and teeth in human form dummy," Grandpa said as though it should have been obvious. "Only when you change." Change. The idea of changing into a wolf made me think back to two nights ago when I had that weird-assed dream. I'd been running through the woods and chasing a rabbit, only I hadn't been myself. I couldn't really put into words what I felt like other than it was something that wasn't human. It had also been the single most liberating experience of my life...at least until I'd had a very similar dream last night. "You've already changed once," Grandpa observed quietly. "Haven't you." "I..." At a loss for words I could only shrug helplessly. "I had a couple weird dreams last night and the one before." "Where you were running through the woods?" he supplied. "Maybe hunting an animal?" "Rabbit the first time. Deer the second," I confirmed. He nodded and put a hand on my now decidedly slimmer shoulder. "That was actually you. You'd changed into wolf form but didn't realize it. Don't worry," he assured me as the panic of blacking out for extended periods of time for the rest of my life churned within me, "You'll be fully aware of it happening now. Those times was kind of like an adaptation period, your brain getting used to all of the new information it was getting from your enhanced senses and new body structure. The next time you change you'll be fully aware the whole time." "Well that's good to know," I quipped without bothering to hide my sarcasm. "What about the rest of this?" I asked and indicated myself. Grandpa's sigh was heavy this time as he shook his head and looked to the trees as though seeking inspiration or wisdom from them. "I wish I could tell you Aiden. Like I said before, no one in our family has ever changed sex when their mutation manifested. They become werewolves, but that's all." "So I'm a special case, yay," I mumbled. When I felt his hand, now feeling even larger than before due to what I'm guessing was my own diminished size, gently squeeze my shoulder I looked over to see him offering me a warm smile. "Whatever it is, we'll do what we can to figure it out." I nodded and out of instinct stepped close to Grandpa so I could slip my arms around his waist and hug him tightly. Now, I'm not really all that much of a hugger. That time yesterday was a special circumstance since I hadn't seen him in quite a while and was happy he'd come for a visit. Typically I just did the pat or punch to the shoulder thing when it came to men. I wasn't afraid or ashamed to hug another guy, I just never had the urge to typically. Now, however, I needed a hug in the worst way. Not since I'd been under ten years old had I wanted to simply be held and when Grandpa enfolded me into his embrace I had a tough time recalling when I'd last felt so safe and protected and remarkably at peace given how turbulent the last twenty minutes of my life had been. Grandpa must have felt me stiffen when I realized that before he gently stroked my hair, something he would never have done if I was a boy. "It's part of our nature. Wolves are social animals and will often huddle and cuddle within their pack when they need support, and you and I are pack." "And the hair thing you're doing?" I mumbled against his chest. "Don't stop by the way." I could almost feel him smile as he continued stroking my hair. "I'm sure you already figured out I probably wouldn't do it if you were still...well...you, but every sense is saying to me you're female and I just responded instinctively to that." "I'm guessing it's probably permanent then?" I asked dejectedly, though honestly not as much as I would have expected. "Since we don't know what caused it I can't say yes or no, but you should probably be prepared for the answer to be yes." I kind of figured that but it still stung a little. Again, though, not as much as I would have expected it to. I suppose part of that could be attributed to one very important question that was on my mind. Okay, I had a lot of important questions on my mind at the time, but one that had a bit of precedent. "Hey Grandpa? This mutation of ours," I continued when he uttered a hum to show he was listening, "Can it cause us to lose control of ourselves? Can we, well, I don't know, go berserk?" He took his time answering and I suppose he was composing his thoughts while we gently rocked back and forth, still in each other's embrace, in the morning sunlight. "In a way, yes, though we call it a frenzy rather than growing berserk. But it's not a matter of losing control of ourselves. Deep inside of us lurks what amounts to the spirit of the wolf. Now, don't get that confused with an avatar actually possessing a wolf spirit. I'm speaking sort of metaphorically. Our mutation sort of unlocks the primal part of our DNA that we share with the wolves and brings us as close to being them as we can without being born one. Because our cognitive abilities are so much more advanced than a wolf's, that translates into a kind of dual personality within our minds." "You mean we're schizophrenic now?" I asked worriedly, though that would explain a lot about what happened at the party. "No," he assured me, "not schizophrenic. More like it's another part of our personality that is stronger than normal. You know how some people can be really dedicated, serious workers but still be able to cut loose and have fun?" I nodded, though I couldn't really relate since to me fun was pounding a hammer into hot steel. "Well that's two different aspects of one person's personality. The hard worker and the fun-loving person. It's the same with us. We can be hard workers, family men, or women in your case (grunt), enjoy having fun, etc., but there's also that wolf part of us that is always there. It can be wild and dangerous, but just like someone who keeps themselves in check when having fun, we keep the wolf in check. We define it, it doesn't define us. So no, unless you deliberately let the wolf out you won't go into an uncontrolled frenzy." "But what about two nights ago at the party?" I wondered. "I had no control over what I did. Hell, I don't even remember it happening." "That was the wolf making himself, or in your case herself, known. It happens to all of us when we first manifest and it can be pretty scary, but it's not the norm. Like I said, that was just your brain trying to readjust itself to having a whole new bunch of information suddenly being crammed into it. It's perfectly normal for us." "I think it might have me in a bit of trouble," I confessed. "I kinda attacked the most popular guy slash bully in the school." "Oh?" Grandpa said with far too much delighted interest. "Yeah. I...kinda made him piss his pants," I mumbled sheepishly. Him roaring with laughter was pretty much the reaction I was expecting from that one. Truth be told, I couldn't but first smile and then start giggling about it. Pretty soon I was joining him in laughing so hard we were in tears. When eventually we were able to limit ourselves to just giggles...okay he was guffawing and I was giggling...and he kissed the top of my head. That was yet another thing he did that would never have happened if I was a boy, and yet I didn't feel all that bad about it. "Why don't you go get yourself cleaned up and then come on downstairs for breakfast, I'm sure you're starving right now." As though he had given some kind of signal, my stomach protested its emptiness rather loudly that briefly had us laughing again. "The morning after the first change tends to use up a lot of energy making the necessary physical adjustments," he explained, "It doesn't happen all the time." "Thank god," I said with a mischievous grin, "Then Mom really would have an excuse to say I eat like a pig, err, wolf." Giving my shoulder one last squeeze, Grandpa let himself out of the room and closed the door to grant me some privacy. For a while I just sat out on the porch and let myself soak up the morning air. It wasn't the first time that I'd done that, which was what was so great about having a porch off the back of your bedroom, but this time it was different. Not only did I have the benefit of such a great view, but I was wrapped up in the scents and sounds that yesterday I hadn't been privy too that only further enhanced the peace and tranquility of our home. It also gave me a chance to think a little more rationally about everything I had just found out about. I was a mutant. That fact didn't disturb me quite so much as it might have with some people. All my life my parents had been extremely supportive of mutants and had made their feelings on the issue well known despite it being unpopular in certain circles. Thankfully it hadn't affected his business. They'd also instilled these kinds of values in me as well so I grew up knowing that mutants weren't a bunch of human-hating killers that were only kept in check by the MCO. I guess that, plus the fact that Grandpa was also a mutant, was a big part of why the knowledge that I was now one of them wasn't such a big deal. No, that particular honor was bestowed upon the fact that I at present I couldn't fold my arms across my chest and it was disturbingly easy to cross my legs. How in the hell had my mutation caused this? Everything Grandpa had just told me indicated that the mutation within our family line was specific and singular, affecting everyone that was afflicted by it the same way. So why had I been changed so radically? I went over several different possibilities, but without any real good information it was really wasn't more than a simple thought experiment. Frankly, it was starting to make my head hurt. With a sigh and the depressing thought that I might never know why I went through such a drastic physical change, I stood from the chair and headed back inside to grab myself a shower. When I stripped off my clothes I got my first real good look at the new me. It could have been worse. Hell, I probably should have counted myself lucky considering the stories I'd heard on T.V and the internet about those mutants who suffered from Gross Structural Dystrophy, or GSD. I could very well have ended up with horns sticking out of my head or webbed fingers and toes. Instead, I ended up looking like something you'd see on the cover of a supernatural romance novel...the supernatural part being that I was a werewolf, of course. My hair was still its deep black just like before, only now it cascaded across my shoulders and partly down my back in wild, untamed waves. I had to admit, my version of bedhead was pretty damn sexy. My facial features had changed, but not overly much. I could still kind of see myself in the mirror, but only if I'd been born as a girl. My cheeks were a little sharper and more angled, my nose a touch smaller narrower, and my mouth was certainly fuller and poutier. My eyes, now that was a different story. Once upon a time, like yesterday, I shared my Mom's bright green eyes. Because of my black hair I'd always been told it was one of my best features since the difference in color really made them stand out. Well, they still stood out, but not the same way that once had. Instead of green, I now sported a pair of ocular viewing devices in bright amber with a slight gold tint. They weren't outrageous to the point of glowing or anything, but they certainly stood out as quite unusual. In fact, the combination of my eyes and my new feminized facial structure did lend itself to giving me a, dare I say wolfish look. Oh it was a beautiful face, but there was without a doubt a wild connotation to it that would probably end up drawing a lot more attention than I was normally comfortable with, which was to say any kind of attention. The rest of my body shared that wolfish motif in that I was lean but well proportioned with breasts that were generous without being huge, a small waist, hips that were slim yet feminine, and legs that just seemed to go on forever despite still only being five foot five. Yup, there was no doubt that I was quite the looker now. I might not be stopping rush hour traffic, but I'd lay odds that I could be a contender for a whiplash contest. It was more than a bit disconcerting that I could be thinking about myself in such terms, but the pragmatic side of me, the one that usually worked out the problems I ran into when forging a blade, reasoned that this was who I was now so it would be pretty useless stressing about it and wasting my energy. Besides, I was sure I'd have plenty of opportunities to freak out about this later. Shaking my head, and shivering at the strange feeling of long hair brushing against my shoulders, chest, and back, I stepped into the shower. That was my next education in being a girl. Normally I took rather hot showers, but now it was way too hot. Apparently my change in gender also came with more skin sensitivity and I had to reduce the temperature to a more tepid range before I was comfortable and could start to wash. That part took a little longer than it should have. No, I didn't 'go exploring'. I actually kind of avoided my chest and between my legs initially. I don't know if it was some kind of last ditch effort at denial or I was just afraid of the sensations I would experience, but I simply couldn't make myself wash my breasts and...womanly area...with the first go around. It wasn't until I'd finally figured out how to wash all of that new hair I now possessed that I just bit the bullet and forced myself to finish the job. Surprisingly, while I did feel some nice little tingles, the act of washing my privates wasn't all that different from how I did it before. Yeah, they were a little more sensitive, hence the tingles, and there was more to wash in some places and less in others, but nothing outrageous. By the time I shut off the water I was wondering just what I had been so afraid of. After drying myself off, patting instead of rubbing like I normally would, I went about the task of trying to find something to wear. Unfortunately my options for underwear were pretty well non-existent. Normally I wore boxers, but when I tried on a pair I found they were way too tight in the hips and extremely uncomfortable in, ahem, a certain area. Commando it was, despite it being rather embarrassing. I ran into similar problems with my pants. My jeans were way too tight in the hips and felt decidedly loose in the crotch. I suppose I could have just sucked it up and worn them, but they would have probably gotten painful pretty quick. Thankfully I had a few pairs of shorts that were loose enough to do the job for the time being. When it came to shirts I had no choice but to just pick one and deal with it being pretty damn tight in the chest, which also resulted in the hem rising up to the point a lot more of my flat stomach was revealed than I was comfortable with. I also had to contend with the fact that even a black shirt couldn't hide my nipples poking through it, but I didn't have any other options unless I wanted to throw on a sweatshirt that would have me baking from the summer heat. Once attired the best I could manage, I took a deep breath and headed out of my room and downstairs. The sight that greeted me was, blessedly, normal. Dad and Grandpa were all setting out plates, cups, and silverware on the table while Mom was bringing out platters containing steak, bacon, and eggs. All of them looked over at me as I entered the room, but other than a slightly understanding nod from Mom they didn't say a word. Which was probably a good thing because even before I'd entered the room I had already caught the scent of the steak and had started salivating. Never in my life had something smelled sooooo good to the point I actually wanted to devour the fragrance itself. The moment a plate of just steak was set in front of me, I simply lost control to my now very evident ravenous hunger. Without even using silverware I grabbed the large hunk of bloody meat in my hands and started tearing into it with my teeth as fast as my jaws could work. It was as though nothing else existed in my world except this food, this wonderful, meaty, bloody food. I got to the point where I was sucking on my fingers for any last trace of juices and idly wishing I could gnaw on the bones to get any stray meat fragments when I realized both Mom and Dad were staring at me with wide eyes and open mouths. Gulping nervously I picked up a napkin with now shaking fingers and carefully wiped my mouth that I could feel was stained red. "Ummm, yummy?" The low chuckle from Grandpa had all of us looking over at him while he calmly cut another bite from his steak and popped it in his mouth with his fork. "This is how it always is the morning after the first change," he explained, "Aiden's body is getting adjusted to the radical changes it is capable of going through and that requires a lot of protein and fat. Don't worry," he told me, "You won't keep eating like a starved animal." "Well that's a relief," Mom said as she warily watched me reach for another piece of steak, which I pointedly used a knife and fork to cut civilly. "What about dietary concerns for the future?" "Well," Grandpa said thoughtfully, "Meat is a staple of a wolf's diet, but because we're not naturally bred wolves there's some flexibility. Aiden will always prefer meat over everything else, but he...sorry Aiden...she will still be able to fully consume all varieties of food and even desserts. You won't get nearly the same nutritional value from them like before,? he said, addressing me directly now, ?Since your body has changed to utilize meat as a primary food source, but you can still enjoy pastas, salads, pizza, and all of the rest. This also means you don?t have to worry about fat or calories because your biological processes have become much more efficient to make sure you stay strong and healthy, so things like fat, sodium, and caloric intake are used to fuel your muscles rather than accumulate in your belly.? ?Hmph,? Mom grunted as she had a dainty bite of eggs before tossing me a wink. ?Looks like you found the diet plan that most women on the planet would kill for.? ?Yeah, that makes me feel heaps better,? I grumped. The minute I said the words I kind of regretted it because it cast an uncomfortable pall over the table for a while where the only sounds that could be heard was the clink of silverware on plates. Eventually, after berating myself for a bit, I sighed and looked over at my parents. ?I?m sorry,? I said softly, ?I know this isn?t anyone?s fault. I?m just having a hard time adjusting.? ?That?s understandable pa...uh...swee...umm...Aiden,? Dad said while struggling to find a term of endearment that I wouldn?t find insulting, ?And I wish we had an answer for why it?s happened. Maybe we should go see the MCO in Chicago and see if they can figure it out.? ?Bad idea,? Grandpa said around a mouthful. When everyone looked at him in confusion he went on, ?One reason why the MCO exists is to look for mutants that are potential threats to society. The theory is they look for those that have the personality or attitude that could make them into a supervillain, but the reality is if you display abilities that even have the potential for harm they?re just as likely to throw you in a cell and forget where they put the key. If you walk into an MCO office and show them you can turn into a wolf with all of its killing instincts and is damn near impossible to stop, consider yourself disappeared.? ?Killing instincts?? Mom asked in shock. ?Impossible to stop?? came my question. ?Okay,? Grandpa said, lifting his hand to stop any more questions from flying, ?Killing instincts was a bit strong. When one of us shifts into wolf form we bring with it all of the hunting instincts that come with being a purebred wolf. That means there?s an ingrained hunting instinct as well as a protective one when it comes to defending the pack. It?s controllable, but our mutation sort of...embraces the wolf within us and if we try to suppress it for too long, say several weeks on end, it can trigger a change and you could find yourself out running down a deer without realizing it. That can make things kind of complicated if a hunter going after the same deer decides to shoot you and ends up only pissing you off. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that,? he said, looking at me. ?We heal really fast.? ?Well thanks for mentioning it,? I bit off and shoved a piece of meat into my mouth angrily. ?So you?re saying your mutation is...alive?? Dad asked, critical disbelief clear in his voice. ?No, not alive,? Grandpa clarified, ?More like there might be a specific set of chemical signals required to happen in the brain to produce a change into wolf form, but over time those signals can build up if we don?t shift until it can?t be contained anymore and we shift whether we want to or not. It?s like a pressure release valve. I talked with another wolf a long while back who was a scientist and we tried to figure out why this is. We did some experimentation and he theorized what I just told you. There?s no real hard evidence to back it up since the brain is still mostly unexplored territory, but it was the best we could come up with.? ?Well at least I don?t have to worry about suddenly, uhh, wolfing out and killing Henry when he decides to come after me on Monday,? I quipped. When neither Mom nor Dad made the obvious comment or conciliatory remark about my impending bully issues I glanced over with a raised eyebrow only to see them both huddled over the newspaper, which up until now had been folded up on the table between them. ?Ummm, isn?t this the part where you guys tell me things with Henry will be okay?? Instead of rising to the bait I?d cast, I watched their widening eyes rapidly scan across the page in front of them while Dad quietly asked, ?Aiden, what?s the name of that boy who?s been friends with Henry since they were kids?? ?You mean Ed?? It wasn?t hard to remember him since Ed had been almost as big of a bully as Henry and had often spurned him on or even made torture suggestions. ?Edward Mosby?? ?I think so,? I shrugged. I was just about to take another bite of steak when the newspaper was slapped down right on top of my plate. As it grew dark while the juices from the steak stained the newsprint I stared in disbelief at headline that screamed out at me: LOCAL BOY FOUND SAVAGED. Thankfully there were no photos, but a quick read of the headline article said that Ed?s body had been located ten miles outside of town in a forested area called Fox Woods. According to the witnesses, Henry, Clay, and Robert, they had been talking a walk in the woods when they were set upon by some kind of large dog that seemed to come out of nowhere. While the three had managed to run for safety, Ed had fallen victim to the animal?s attack and had apparently been torn apart and even partially eaten. It was reading that last part that had me hurling the paper away and fighting to keep the meat I?d so hungrily consumed from racing its way back out of my stomach. ?No,? I whispered before looking at the horrified faces of Mom and Dad. ?It wasn?t me,? I insisted, The very idea of me doing something like that made me even sicker than I already felt. ?It couldn?t have been me!? ?It wasn?t,? Grandpa said calmly as he went and retrieved the wet mass of newsprint from the floor. ?I knew you were going through your first real change last night so I followed you to make sure you didn?t get into trouble. You hunted a deer, but that was it. You didn?t kill that boy.? ?Then what did?? Dad asked anxiously as he looked to his father, ?Another werewolf?? He shook his head. ?I haven?t smelled any others in the area. Maybe it really was what those boys said it was, a large dog.? ?Would a dog do something like that to a boy?? Mom asked worriedly. ?Possibly,? Dad allowed as he sat back to consider the canine angle. ?German Shepherds, Great Pyrenees, and Mastiffs are pretty big dogs, and if one of those had been abused or abandoned I guess it wouldn?t be out of the ordinary for them to turn feral. Since we don?t have an actual wolf population in this region, present company excluded of course,? he said with a nod to me and Grandpa, ?That would be the only logical explanation.? ?Maybe we should go and try to find it,? I said to Grandpa, not able to contain a bit of excitement at the idea. Now that I was coming to terms with my mutation I was actually getting a bit anxious to actively try it out and experience what it was like being a wolf instead of blacking out while it happened. Unfortunately he grounded that idea with a shake of his head. ?You?re too new,? he explained, ?And you?d be vulnerable because you don?t have a good working knowledge of how to operate in wolf form yet. The only reason you were so successful in hunting last night is because the wolf was in charge and it has instinctive knowledge. That won?t be the case anymore and you trying to take on a feral dog would only get you killed.? ?I thought you said we healed really fast,? I pointed out with a frown. ?Not from getting eaten,? he retorted, ?And if you suffer a grave enough injury it will kill you. A bullet to the head, your throat being completely torn out, your heart destroyed, all of that will kill you just like it would a human.? ?Dad,? my father said with a warning tone in his voice, ?She doesn?t need that kind of graphic description.? ?Best she knows it now,? he replied, and it kind of bothered me how quickly they were able to adapt to identifying me with female pronouns, ?When it comes to life as a wolf it?s a much more black and white thing than for humans.? When I saw Dad slowly start to rise from his chair in preparation to argue, I quickly stood and held my hands out towards both of them in a kind of interposing gesture. ?I won?t go look for the dog, okay?? They didn?t respond immediately but eventually they both nodded and relaxed, though something told me this wasn?t over. ?Besides,? I said in an effort to try and add some levity to the morning, ?All of my clothes don?t fit anymore so...I kinda need new ones,? I finished shyly and peeked at Mom from beneath my hair. Bless Mom she picked up on my idea right away and I saw a mischievous twinkle form in her eye that immediately had me rethinking my plan. ?I would be happy to help,? she said with cheerfulness in her voice that was only a touch forced. ?In fact, I think your father and I should both come with you.? That seemed to distract Dad from whatever was biting his ass about Grandpa better than I ever could because his head whipped around like it was on a spring. ?What?? ?Well you wouldn?t want your daughter buying anything that you might think was inappropriate would you?? she asked in a way too reasonable voice. I opened my mouth to argue that there wasn?t a chance in hell I?d want to even look at anything close to ?inappropriate? but a quick warning look had it snapping shut. ?I suppose you?re right,? Dad said grudgingly even as he eyed me with a whole new, and completely undeserved I might add, suspicion. ?Get your shoes and socks on and we?ll go get you kitted out.? ?I?m going to make some calls while you?re out,? Grandpa said in a way that clearly meant he was trying to be helpful, ?See if I can figure out why Aiden?s become a girl like this.? From the look on his face I thought Dad might have wanted to say something, maybe once again berate his father from speaking so graphically to me which, to be honest, I?d seen and heard worse on T.V and the internet, before his expression softened and he nodded his agreement with the plan. Otherwise silent, he headed off to collect the car keys while Mom let me borrow a crocheted poncho of hers that ended up being too big but at least covered my, ahem, problem area better than my T-shirt. I looked like a little kid playing dress-up but at least my high beams weren?t exposed to everyone. With Dad tapping his foot impatiently by the door I gave him a sarcastically cheery smile before we headed out. Salem, Indiana, Cartwright Household ?I can?t believe he?s gone,? Clay said in quiet disbelief. Sitting on the semicircular couch in the large entertainment room, the other two occupants made distracted nods as they too were consumed by thoughts of the loss of their friend only hours ago. Of course, while one was genuinely saddened by the young man?s passing, the other was replaying the events in question through his mind. The four had made their small side-trip to Henry?s house in preparation for the night?s events. While Clay and Robert thought it was to gather up some liquid courage, which they partook of themselves via the Cartwright?s ample supply of whisky and brandy, the young Cartwright himself had availed himself of his father?s gun cabinet key in the elder?s desk. He really should be more careful about that, anyone could come in and find it. Once in possession of the key, Henry had made a beeline for the Colt 1911 that was the centerpiece of the rather extensive handgun collection contained within the household. Not only was it the most powerful handgun in his father?s collection, but he had practiced with it the most extensively and had been able to put rounds into the center ring of practice targets regularly. Of course, such accuracy wouldn?t be necessary at what would essentially be point blank range, but it was nice to have some options. Now suitably armed, at least as far as Henry and Ed were concerned (no need to tell Clay and Robert since they?d likely pussy out), the quartet had begun their journey through the woods towards the Connors homestead. Ed had suggested using the woods and coming from behind, that way there would be no automated lights giving away their approach, which all agreed was an excellent idea. That was how they had found themselves deep within Fox Woods working their way towards the home of that little shit that had embarrassed Henry in front of everyone. Clay and Robert, each clutching several rolls of toilet paper, couldn?t stop giggling hysterically at the idea that they were about to completely cover that little punk?s house in the white tissue and teach him a lesson. It caused a few looks of annoyance from Henry and Ed, particularly when they had a much different mission in mind, but since the two wanted to keep the numbers advantage they didn?t do anything to make the idiots change their minds about coming. None of them were quite sure how far they?d gotten when they heard the noise. It was quiet at first, almost indistinctive, but there was no question something was out there. The first impression all of them had was a deer foraging for leaves, which meant it could be ignored in pursuit of their goal. That quickly changed when the low growl floated to their ears upon the still air like some ghostly spectre in the night. Henry had immediately brought the gun to bear even as the other three had looked around frantically for the source of what was now a much more frightening sound. Both Clay and Robert had started babbling about heading back while Ed was telling them both to shut up so he and Henry could try and locate where the growl was coming from. Henry remained silent, slowly tracking his weapon across the expanse of forest laid out all around them. Though his breathing had increased to a frightened pant, his hands remained remarkably steady as they held the weapon in a practiced grip with his finger resting lightly on the trigger. Should whatever it was show its face, the young man was fully prepared to blow its brains clear across the forest floor. That was when the spectre had became reality. A blurred shape out of the corner of the eye had been the only warning any of them received before a scream pierced the calm night. Clay, Robert, and Henry all spun to see a very large, dark shape atop Ed, who was jerking spasmodically while blood jetted from what remained of the torn out throat. The look in the boy?s eyes was something none of them would ever forget. They were wide and utterly terrified as he frantically tried to draw breath through a trachea that no longer existed. All the while, the...thing...had continued to tear at his flesh hungrily. That was when the shot rang out. Henry didn?t even realize he?d pulled the trigger until the thing flinched slightly and a small spurt of blood erupted from its side. Its head had whipped about to lock eyes with the drunken boy and that?s when Henry?s bowels loosened and filled the air with the rancid stench of waste. The dog...it had to be a dog right? There were no wolves in Indiana....had stared at Henry with an almost human expression of anger as blood fell from its jaws in thick droplets to splash against Ed?s thigh. It uttered a single, warning growl and shifted ever so slightly as though in preparation to leap. That was all it took to send the three boys screaming from the scene as though death itself was at their heels. Considering what they?d just witnessed, the comparison wasn?t without merit. When Henry had taken one last look back to see if the animal had taken up chase, the last thing he saw before the forest swallowed it up was the animal dipping its head back down towards his now dead friend to feast on its kill. That was last night and since then, other than telling the cops all they knew, the boys had hardly said a word to one another. Their parents, of course, were frantic when they received the call from the police and Ed?s in particular were inconsolable. The boys themselves were in understandably rough shape as well and there was no doubt Clay and Robert were going to need years of therapy to stop the nightmares that would surely be haunting their dreams. Henry, however, had taken a different path in dealing with his grief. He had taken that fear, that horror of what he?d witnessed, and channeled it into plans for revenge. Already there was talk about forming a hunting party to track down this rabid dog and put it down before it could hurt anyone else. That was all well and good, but the boy knew better. He?d looked into that things eyes and what he saw was no rapid dog wildly attacking someone that had just stumbled across its path. That thing had been a wolf, and it had targeted them. He didn?t have any kind of real evidence to support that supposition, which was why he didn?t say anything to the police, but he had looked into its eyes and he knew he was right. There had been nothing wild or crazy about its steady gaze, only a pointed anger and deliberateness that could only represent conscious thought. It had sought out Ed and chosen him as the recipient of its ire. Whether he had been the first on the list or a warning to the others, Henry didn?t know, but in the end it didn?t matter. He knew he had to get it before it could get him because that thing wouldn?t stop until one of the two of them was dead. Thankfully, his father also kept a nice supply of various hunting rifles, including a semi-automatic AR-15 modeled after the military assault rifle, and he had practiced with all of them. He would need a little time to prepare, but there was no question in his mind that that thing would be put down, even if he had to pump so many bullets into it there would be nothing left but mush. Unseen by his two friends, the thought made the young man slowly smile. Salem, Indiana, Downtown Area While I?m sure most girls would be absolutely thrilled to have their parents take them on a clothes shopping spree, to me it felt like I was being put on display. I almost expected to see a carnival barker leap out of nowhere and start yelling, ?Come one, come all, come see the freak!? Even the drive into downtown had been an exercise in trying to keep my nerves from leaping out of my skin. Since everyone knew my parents pretty well, they had all stared at me with open curiosity as to who the girl in the back seat of the truck was. Thankfully, I didn?t need to worry about the police stopping us and asking where my parents had kidnapped me from. The first stop we?d made on this little excursion was to the police station to inform them about my manifestation. While this wasn?t strictly required by law, Dad felt it was the proper thing to do so I couldn?t have cops crawling all over my ass trying to figure out who I was in case I was ever questioned. Dad had a pretty good rapport with the police department here since he had personally forged folding lockback knives for every officer and staff member of the department, with each one being personally designed for the individual, and had been provided to them at zero cost. It was his way of showing our family?s appreciation for their service to the town and did a lot for our relationship with the law enforcement community. The fact that I kept my nose squeaky clean and even sharpened some of their gifted knives to a razor?s edge for free whenever they needed it meant that I myself had a very good personal relationship with them as well. The officer, Sergeant Anthony, was more than willing to take note of my situation so it would be available to the entire department as well as an updated photograph with mine and my parents? permission. Other than a few questions such as when I had manifested (Dad told him that morning when I woke up) and if I knew what kind of powers I had yet (Mom took that one and said no), he was very polite and professional and even asked if I was handling the whole situation okay and to not be afraid to contact the department if anyone tried to harass me about being a mutant. He also suggested getting my power testing done as soon as possible for my own peace of mind more than anyone else?s so I?d know what kind of abilities I possessed. I thanked him for the support while silently thanking the fact that our town was, for the most part, rather pro-mutant when it came to the issue. That brought us to the shopping part of this little adventure and our pulling up in front of the modest mall that our town possessed. It wasn?t anything major, sporting perhaps about twenty stores in total, but it had a pretty good selection of everything from clothes to electronics and more. As we exited the car and trooped into the mall, I was already starting to get more than a few looks. Because Mom and Dad were fairly well known, it was also well known they had a son and what he looked like. I might have been able to see traces of my old self in the mirror if I looked really hard, but there was no question that the person that now strode through that grand front entrance was all girl. While it was uncomfortable getting those confused stares from people who knew I had been a boy before this morning, it was downright creepy seeing boys around my age practically undressing me with their eyes. Did all girls go through this? Did I used to do that? I was still pondering the question as to whether I had been like one of those leches ogling me before this morning when we arrived at our first stop, which had me coming to a dead halt and my heart leaping into my throat. Mom was clearly confused by my sudden immobility. ?What?s wrong honey?? ?That?s...that?s...Victoria?s Secret,? I stammered as I looked through the gilded archway into the bastion of feminine delights. ?Yes,? she said slowly, clearly not comprehending what the problem was. ?You need underwear.? ?It?s. Victoria?s. Secret.? I ground out between clenched teeth. I guess I wasn?t making much sense to her because she still looked befuddled. Thankfully Dad stepped in to offer a bit of insight. ?Aiden, you Mom?s not trying to turn you into a frilly girly girl,? he said and I saw Mom?s eyes widen in understanding before she nodded in agreement, ?This store just has better quality and more comfortable things than Walmart.? That made me feel a little better, but I still had to fight the urge to back away slowly as though that doorway was actually a maw filled with sharp teeth ready to chew me up. ?Just...keep it simple,? I demanded, though it came out more like a plea. ?That was I planned to do,? Mom assured me and took me by the hand to lead me inside, and yes I dragged my feet. No, I?m not going to tell you perverts about my adventures in pantyland. Go find some fap material on the internet. Suffice it to say I got a nice assortment of plain underwear and matching bras. Mom even talked me into getting a few lacier, sexier things. Okay, talked into is a bit of a stretch. She snatched them up and bought behind my back after I?d made my choices and Dad was paying for them. We got a ten dollar bet going that I?d be thanking her later. The one point of embarrassment was I had to have a bra fitting since I didn?t know my bust size. Thankfully, the girl who did it was pretty understanding and bought the story Mom gave her about never having had one before. Turns out I was a 32C. There, happy? With the underwear situation taken care of and me sporting a brand new pair of plain black panties and matching bra (man this thing felt weird), we went for clothes next. I tried to make it clear to my parents that all I wanted was basic stuff: some jeans, a few T-shirts, some socks, and a couple pairs of properly fitting shoes. That?s it. Of course, Mom being Mom, she decided that I needed to establish a ?proper? wardrobe befitting a young lady. I tried to protest, but when Dad started teaming up with Mom it was a battle I?d lost before it even started. So, while I got those basics I?d wanted, I also ended up with a modest assortment of dresses, skirts, blouses, and girly shoes ranging from flats to heels that I was actually able to walk in surprisingly well. Of course, that didn?t mean I planned on wearing them...like ever. As far as I was concerned, all of that girly stuff was going to get shoved as far into the back of my closet as possible and stay there until they fell apart. I had to admit that Mom did have a pretty good eye for fashion and didn?t go all pastels and flower prints on me in an effort to make me look like a ten-year-old. All of the items she chose were things I would see on pretty much any girl my age, which was fine for those girls, but just didn?t feel right on me. There was some nonsense about needing nice clothes for special occasions, but I had other things on my mind at the time. Okay, things plural might have been stretching it a bit. Yeah, I was still trying to adjust and adapt to this abrupt one-eighty change in my life, and I was doing pretty damn good if I do say so myself, but there was one thing that I hadn?t explored yet that was really bothering me. Well, maybe two, but I wasn?t really focused on what it would be like to change into a wolf just yet. No, what was bothering me the most was the forge setup I had back at the house. Since this change, I hadn?t had the opportunity to get to it yet and I was starting to get itchy. While I certainly didn?t feel any different, strength-wise, there was this growing concern gnawing at my insides that I wouldn?t be able to even lift my hammer the next time I went to work on the knife currently in progress. I actually had a couple of daydreams...daymares?...on the way to the mall that I?d tried to continue work on it only not be able to budge my hammer an inch. Out of everything that had happened to me so far this morning, that was the one thing I was really concerned about. I could handle turning into a girl, hell I could handle being a werewolf, if I could still keep working at my forge. If I suddenly lost that...it was just an inconceivability that I was really worried I might turn suicidal if I suddenly found out I could no longer be a bladesmith. Yes, yes, I know, there are plenty of machines that smiths use in forging that anyone can use, even a weak widdle girl, but I was raised on the principle of hand forging first and foremost. To take that away from me would be tantamount to taking paint and canvas away from Picasso and shoving a tablet and stylus into his hand. Yeah, he could probably still create mind-blowing art, but it would lack the heart that made his work so legendary. Okay, yes, I?m very aware that I?m kind of comparing myself to Picasso here, but you get the point. Anyway, that was what dominated my thoughts as we headed home from the mall. Mom and Dad tried to talk to me, but I?m guessing they probably thought I was having issues adjusting to my new staples in life such as bras, periods (yuck), and pap smears (ugh). I made a few noises just so they would think I was listening to them, but the only thing I could think about was what would happen when I picked up that hammer. I guess they finally figured out I wasn?t really paying attention because eventually they stopped talking to me and started working out how and when I should go for power testing as well as contacting the school and other officials to get my records changed. That was fine, they could worry about that stuff. I only wanted to know one thing. The car had barely stopped before I was out the door and sprinting for the backyard. I think either Mom or Dad called after me but I didn?t hear them. Well, I heard them, a hell of a lot more clearly than I had days ago thanks to my improved hearing, but I ignored them. Mom probably just wanted me to bring the bags inside and that could wait. I ran, faster than I thought I could, and I was suddenly standing in front of my anvil and the wooden box containing the hammer Grandpa had given me yesterday. My fingers twitched with the urge to open it, but I stalled. What if I couldn?t swing it anymore? Yes, I suppose there were smaller smith?s hammers available just for women, but this was a gift that had been presented to me as a sign of being a skilled craftsman. It was a one-time thing that simply couldn?t be repeated and giving me another, smaller one would feel like a disappointment rather than an achievement. Could I live with that? Would I still have the same drive to do my work if I knew I had to live with a strength handicap? Would I even bend another blade if that was the case? Sighing heavily, I flipped open the box and stared down at the very object of my consternation. It sat there, on its bed of velvet, almost as though it was taunting me. It was like it knew I wasn?t strong enough to wield it and that it would forever be a sign of what might have been had it not been for my damned DNA. With a growl of anger, I reached down and snatched the hammer out of its case, lifted it into the air, and brought it down on the anvil with a loud clang. Without missing a beat I hauled the hammer back and and drove it down onto the anvil, causing the two metals connecting to create a brief flash of sparks. This was my life, my craft, my choice, and I wouldn?t give it up without a fight! Over and over and I drove the hammer onto the flat, steel plane, listening to the ringing of metal fill the air until it blended together to create one, single sound. Then I stopped, and blinked, and looked at the hammer stupidly. What the hell? ?What the hell?? Did I say that out loud? When I looked over I saw Mom and Dad standing there looking a bit surprised but otherwise calm. When I released the handle on the hammer Dad walked over and put his hand on my shoulder. ?Feel better?? Did I? Well, I?d just swung my hammer at least a dozen times without any real muscle strain and, unlike the many times before, I wasn?t really even breathing hard. Looking down at those small, dainty hands I now possessed and I saw they were shaking, but I don?t think it was from fatigue. I could flex my fingers without any indications they were threatening to cramp at all. In fact, I felt like I could probably pound away for hours. That meant... ?Yes!? I yelled and punched hard into the air. ?That?s good then?? Mom asked. ?Hell yeah It?s good!? I cried and lifted up my hammer with surprising ease. It actually felt a little lighter than it had yesterday. ?I can still swing a hammer.? ?Ah,? Dad uttered in now clear understanding of why I?d been so quiet and morose. ?I didn?t know that had been bothering you.? Nodding I replaced the hammer in its case, but I didn?t close the lid. I had plans for that little beauty in the very near future. ?I was scared I was going to have the strength of-? I cut myself off and looked sheepishly at Mom. ?The strength of a girl?? she finished with an understanding smile when I nodded. ?It actually seems a little easier to swing now,? I commented as I lightly ran a fingertip along the etching in the head. ?Could be from your mutation,? Dad reasoned as he lightly ran a hand down the length of my hair. Mmmmm, now how come that felt so nice? ?We don?t know everything about it since your?s is different from pretty much everyone else?s in our bloodline.? ?Well it doesn?t matter,? I said with a grin as I started back towards the house. I had a blade to finish. ?As long as I can keep swinging.? **** The hammer came down with a satisfying clang and I watched the metal give a little more in the exact direction I wanted it to go. A few more hits and it would be ready, after I?d reheated it. Setting the steel back into the forge so it could heat back up I heard the crunch of gravel behind me. Turning my head, I wasn?t surprised to see Jake walking up. What did surprise me was that he was still back at the edge of the driveway a good twenty or thirty feet away. Hmmm, I guess I still had a lot to work on when it came to these new super senses. ?Hey Jake,? I called over and waved. While my sight was still normal (wolves only have really good hearing and sense of smell, remember?) I could tell even from this distance that there was a distinct hesitation on his face as he slowly lifted his hand in a return wave. That same hesitation also caused his steps to be much slower than they?d ever been whenever he came by the house, and I could guess why. Once I?d quickly helped Mom and Dad bring my new clothes into the house they?d taken mercy on me and let me go right back out to the forge so I could get to work now that I knew it was still possible. However, I did need to change clothes before doing that since the jeans and polo I?d worn back at the mall weren?t exactly conducive to working in an area with a blazing hot forge. So, I traded them for a pair of snug (damn, did all girl?s clothes have to be tight enough to show off every curve?) jean shorts and a black sport tank top with what I later was told was a racer back. A black hair tie to keep my now significantly longer mane held back from my face and a new pair of work boots specifically chosen for forge work and I was ready to go. So, yeah, I was showing off a lot of skin here, even if it was largely covered up by the heavy leather apron. The shorts really showcased my long, lithe legs that had just enough muscle tone to them to be sexy without going overboard and, as I learned after looking in the mirror, the tank top really showed off that while I was still strong, my arms and shoulders were tight and lean. I was probably a touch more muscled than your average girl, but no one would be accusing me of popping steroids or anything. Basically, I looked like that girl in class that was on the cross-country and track teams. She was in damn good shape, and it showed, but she was still hot as hell, and so was I. Not that I was concerned about that or anything, but, well, I was. ?Aiden?? he asked quietly and it was clear by his voice, which I heard perfectly even from that distance, that he still wasn?t sure it was me even though Mom had called his house and explained what had happened to him and his parents. ?Yeah it?s me,? I called back and turned the steel in the forge. He kept coming but the slowness and the way his feet kind of dragged the gravel a bit told the tale of how he still wasn?t so sure. ?Jake,? I called without looking back at him, ?Will you stop being a pussy and get over here? I?ve got a couple cold Cokes waiting here.? Thus said, I walked over to where our two beach chairs were permanently set up and popped open the cooler between them, revealing the small bed of ice and red cans of carbonated delight. ?Dude,? he said slowly as I plopped down in the chair that I typically claimed and fished a Coke out of the cooler, ?What the hell man?? There was a pop and a hiss of the can opening before I tried to address that as simply as possible. ?Okay, so you know I?m a mutant, right?? ?Yeah, your Mom called and explained it. I just never expected...