Because they lacked clothing, the others changed back into wolves, but I remained a human as I followed them. 

The home Ragnor spoke of was a short distance away, hidden behind a manmade covering of branches and brambles, which the wolves grasped with their teeth and pulled back. The cover was larger than it first appeared, and as the clutter gave way it moved like a door, revealing a wondrous sight behind it.

Beneath a canopy of foliage and bent trees was a village bustling with activity, where humans and wolves moved alongside each other, engaged in the various tasks of daily life. None of the humans cowered at the enormous animals among them, as if no one found anything strange about their cohabitation. It was a small community, but certainly bigger than any I'd ever seen living in the woods.

As we passed through the entrance, we stopped at a wide-gapped gate made of spears, with two guards positioned on either side. At their feet were piles of folded clothes, and to their respective right and left were animal hide partitions that created closets for privacy. The pack I arrived with picked up their clothing with their teeth, and two at a time they ducked behind the partitions to change and dress, then rejoined me as their human selves.

The guards immediately recognized me as an outsider, but they made no move to question me, only gave a knowing nod, which I returned out of confused politeness.

Ragnor joined us last and the guards opened the gate.

There were so many people! I counted twenty-three before Ragnor pulled my attention away.

"With you here, the colony stands at sixty-eight in total," he explained. "Did you ever think there could be that many of us?"

"I didn't."

"Those of us who weren't born here once believed we were alone in the world. Cursed. But here we are, abundant and thriving."

He put a hand on my shoulder and guided me through the colony.

"We've got a butcher there," he said as he pointed to a squat stone building. "And there are two tailors. I don't think it'll surprise you to learn that, even as careful as we are, we go through our fair share of clothing. Especially the younger ones, as they're learning to handle their transformations. Over there are the animal pens. On occasion we keep one or two, but not to eat. One of us has an interest in animals, and when we come across an injured one we bring it back so she can heal it."

"Why not eat the injured animals?"

"There's plenty to catch in the woods. Way we see it, if we don't help where we can, we might one day find ourselves with less to hunt. The animals that need care get it here and are released when they're ready. Behind the pen is the garden."

As Ragnor explained the colony's way of life, I marveled at how well-adapted his people were to life in the woods. Everything had a function, and with plenty to share people were free to pursue what interested them, be it caring for injured animals or painting or hunting.

"The young ones are taught how to utilize their gift and become productive members of the pack," Ragnor continued. "We're all a family here. No one goes hungry, and no one is an outcast."

"It's a lovely place."

"It's no castle, but we wouldn't have it any other way."

The word 'castle' sparked my interest to ask, "Is there a leader? A...wolf king?"

"We have a council chosen by the pack, who serve as leaders. It rotates every year, with new members replacing the old. But each member must prove themselves first, as having strength and wisdom. They make choices that are deemed too large for one person and give advice when asked. They're mostly tasked with making sure the pack is looked after."

"How?"

"They designate hunting parties and choose where in the woods is best to catch game. When needed, they decide on appropriate punishment for those who have misbehaved. And they have the honor of overseeing the annual ceremony where the young ones are initiated into adulthood. That's where children receive their mark. It's a symbol of solidarity to the pack, and a sign that one is ready to become a productive member in the colony."

Ragnor lifted the sleeve of his shirt and revealed a band of ink around his arm, shaped like a tree branch.

He had his own skin symbol!

There were four orchids on the branch, which Rangor explained stood for his wife and children. The flowers were placed long after he'd received his first mark, a common addition that was given with the agreement of the council, and would continue to grow in numbers if more children followed.

"A council member pierces the ink into the skin with a sharp thorn," he said. "Everyone is allowed to choose their design, but it means the same thing for us all: We are forever a part of the pack."

I raised an eyebrow, wondering if anyone had ever chosen to leave the colony, and Ragnor mistook my look as worry.

"There's nothing to fear about it," he said of the mark. "It doesn't hurt too much. The pride it brings is worth the pain."

"I know how it feels. I have one, too."

I raised my arm to show Ma's skin symbol—

It was no longer there.

I had forgotten that upon my first change, the ink went away.

But on my wrist was Ambrosia's mark of the wolf and rabbit and tree, and though it hadn't been bestowed in the same fashion as Ma's, it would serve the purpose of proving I wasn't a liar.

Ragnor took my wrist and lifted it to his face for inspection. His brow furrowed.

"You belong to another pack?" His tone was concerned, as if bringing someone from a different pack to his colony might have overstepped a code of honor.

"It's not a pack symbol," I explained, instantly soothing Ragnor's unease. "A friend gave this to me as a sign of love. I wear it with pride, as you wear yours."

We haven't done our lady much good, the wolf thought to me.

I winced at its words, and Ragnor once again mistook my expression.

"Your friend is gone," he said sympathetically. "I can tell they were important to you."

"She was. She still is."

"I imagine you have quite a story to tell, and everyone would be interested to hear it. It's custom that when someone new arrives they take a seat as a guest of honor at their first dinner and tell the colony their story. It's our way of giving a proper welcome."

He led me to a structure made of wood and dried clay. It was taller than the other buildings and painted with colorful symbols.

"This is where the council sits," he said as he opened the door. "They'll want to meet with you for a quick examination."

"What does that mean, 'examination'?"

"They want to see if you're a threat or not. Nothing to worry about, just a formality."

I expected something grand, but the inside was rather humble. The floor was made of packed dirt, and there was a small fire dancing inside a brass pot in the center of the room. On my right was another partition created with three sheets.

At the back of the room were five empty chairs carved into the image of twisting trees, and a lone door with animals painted on its face.

The only other person in the room was an older woman with gray hair, dressed in a dark robe embroidered with silver moons and golden leaves. She was sitting at a short table to the left of the five chairs, furiously scribbling notes with a quill. As we approached she stood, her posture perfectly straight, and came to us with a grace that made her look like she was gliding over ice.

"Ragnor," she said with a coy smile, "I see your party brought back more than a meal today."

She gave me a kind glance.

"That we did, Lady Miriam. Might be another pup for the colony, if he'll have us. A gray wolf named Josiah."

"Doesn't look like a 'pup', does he? I'd say he's not much younger than you."

"A joking title is all I meant, Lady. He'll need a place to stay and a family to sponsor him. I think I'll take the honor myself, once he meets with the council, of course."

"Of course. They're in a meeting to discuss the upcoming Passage Ceremony. I'll inform them of your arrival."

She disappeared behind the door and I turned to Ragnor.

"What's the Passage Ceremony?"

"That's what we call the event where children are marked and welcomed into the colony as adults. It's a wonderful celebration, and I do hope you stay for it. Lots of feasting and games and music. There may even be a chance for you to take part if you wish."

The door opened and Lady Miriam reentered, but her smile was gone, replaced with a serious countenance. She gave a deep bow before speaking.

"Announcing the ninety-second council."

A line of figures entered and took their seats as she spoke their names, all wearing robes with raised hoods that obscured their faces.

"Lady Bruto. Lord Mikal. Lord Luno. Lady Hamish..."

"Don't be nervous," Ragnor whispered. "They indulge in a bit of dramatic flair, but they're wonderful people."

The final name Lady Miriam announced caught me entirely by surprise.

"Lord Phelan."

It couldn't possibly be the same boy.

The council raised their hoods, and I could see that they had been called and seated in descending order of age, with Lady Bruto being the eldest by far, and the youngest...

When he lowered his hood there could be no doubt.

He was the same whelp I'd bitten in Odd Gran's dungeon.

His face and body were much less round. The stomach that once fell over the waist of his pants had shrunk, and though his limbs were covered I could tell they were defined with muscle. He was older, but his expression retained the unwavering joy and innocence of the boy I'd met.

Lady Miriam continued speaking, but all my mind could focus on was Phelan. How overjoyed I was to see him, alive and healthy, in a place where no one beat him or spoke cruel words. 

When he saw me his eyes lit up and he jumped from his seat.

"Josiah!" he cried, interrupting Lady Miriam's speech.

He ran to me and threw his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a tight embrace.

"I never thought I would see you again! Are you well? How did you find us?"

"Ragnor found me," I squeaked through his squeezing. "It's good to see you, too."

I glanced at the council, expecting sour faces for Phelan's lack of manners, but found them smiling at us. Even Lady Miriam looked amused.

Phelan continued with endless questions and I couldn't keep up with my answers.

At last, he released me.

"Did you find your sister, Credence?"

This was his final question, and he went abruptly silent after asking it, as if it was the only answer worth knowing.

"No, Phelan, I haven't found her."

"Oh, but you must! We will help you!" He turned to the rest of the council. "Josiah is a true friend. He saved me, in more than one way. He's the one who turned me!"

The mood shifted. Tense silence hung in the room and the council's posture stiffened.

Unable, or unwilling, to grasp the change in the atmosphere, Phelan continued.

"Remember when I told my story about the castle," he explained to them, "this is the boy who was forced to bite me in the dungeon. He was going to save the prince and—"

Phelan's face fell as he recalled a grim memory.

"I don't know what happened to him," he whispered. "Sometimes I wonder if...But it's in the past, isn't it? Josiah! You're here! I almost can't believe it!"

Satisfied with our greeting, Phelan retook his seat among the council, and his beaming smile remained fixed on his face for the rest of my time in the room.

Lady Bruto cleared her throat to restore a sliver of solemnity to the meeting.

"I believe it's safe to say that the guest has Lord Phelan's blessing," she mused, eliciting chuckles from her companions. "However, there is an examination to follow through." She nodded at Ragnor and me. "We need to learn where the young man comes from, and how we might ensure both his and the colony's safety."

"In addition to Lord Phelan's blessing, I intend to vouch for Josiah," Ragnor said with a respectful bow. "I ask the council for the honor of housing him."

"Does Lord Phelan wish to counter Ragnor's request?"

Phelan shook his head. "Ragnor is the better choice. I'm still relatively new, and may fall short compared to him for such a task."

Lady Bruto nodded. "To our questions, then."

Lady Hamish, a short woman with a round face, slightly older than Ragnor, raised her hand.

"Ragnor, you and your party found him in the woods. Describe your meeting."

"He was a wolf and he was alone. We found no companions nearby, so I chose to engage him."

"What was your first impression?"

Ragnor grinned. "He was ready to defend himself, even against four."

Lord Luno, a stern-faced man near our parents' age, with several rings on his fingers, raised his hand.

"Where do you come from, Josiah? Were you born to a family of wolves?"

"No, my—lord," I muttered. "They were humans. I was, too. My sister and I were attacked, and I think that is when I was bitten."

"What sort of wolf bit you?"

"Sort? It looked...like a normal wolf. It was with a pack, and they were mean and hungry. I don't think it meant to change me."

"One of our kind attacked a human with the intention to eat?"

"Yes, I believe so."

Disgruntled murmurs came from the council.

"You didn't know the one who bit you?" Lord Luno asked with his hand still raised.

"I didn't even know it was half-human."

"Where is it now?"

"My sister and I killed most of the pack—but we had to! If we didn't, I wouldn't be here to tell this story."

This answer further distressed them. Lord Mikal, a man with more gray in his beard than black, raised his hand next.

"How did you and your sister manage to take down several wolves?"

I shrugged helplessly. "We had weapons. We used them."

Beside me, Ragnor snickered, but the council was not amused.

"Your sister was bitten, too?" Lord Mikal asked. 

"I don't think so. She cared for me when I could no longer walk, but the wound was deep. I think we were both afraid that I...She stayed with me as long as she could and left to find help. That was the last time I saw her."

Lady Bruto raised her hand. "How long ago was that?"

"A lifetime ago."

"And your parents?"

"Pa died. And Ma..." There was no right answer to give, so I offered the most honest one in its place. "Ma is gone, too."

Phelan—Lord Phelan—raised his hand. "Were you bitten right before you came to the castle?"

"No. I lived in a tavern for some time, and then I was sold to the circus—"

"The circus?" Lady Hamish gasped, forgetting to raise her hand.

"Yes. I fought in the pit every day, until the king destroyed it and I fled. But I was captured. That's when I came to the castle and met Phelan."

"Only I wasn't Phelan then."

"No."

There was a short silence as the council considered my answers. Lord Mikal held his hand up.

"Would it be fair, Josiah, to say that you are an abnormal wolf?"

"I guess it depends on what you mean by 'abnormal'."

"When you are the wolf, are your thoughts the same, or are they separate?"

"They're separate. We speak to each other all the time."

Lord Phelan raised his hand. "That's how I used to be, too."

"I see," Lord Mikal replied. "Would you say that you are two different souls in one body?"

I considered the question for a moment.

"Yes, I would. It has thoughts and I have thoughts. What we want is different sometimes. But we've learned to work together. For a long time we didn't and we left each other alone. We never spoke at first, and I hated the wolf, as I believe it hated me." I smiled. "We're friends now, and I think it would agree that we love each other. We know everything about the other, and there's nothing either of us can hide. The wolf sees and hears all that I do, and I likewise with it."

"Interesting," Lady Bruto mumbled.

Lord Luno raised his hand. "Is the wolf ever difficult to control?"

"Not anymore. But I don't want to control it. It's not a bad wolf, really." In an attempt to prove the animal's soft nature, I added, "It loves poetry. It's even created some of its own."

"What do you think of poetry?" Lord Mikal asked as he raised his hand.

"It's...all right."

The entire council leaned forward, their curiosity keenly piqued.

"We wish to meet your wolf," Lady Bruto said. "Please, have him come forward."

"Use the changing closet there," Lady Miriam said, the first words she'd spoken since the council took their seats. She pointed to the partition in the corner of the room, and I went behind it to remove my clothing and transform.

I'm scared, the wolf thought to me.

They just want to meet you.

You don't think they will attack? They called us 'abnormal'. What does that mean?

I'm not sure, but I don't think they intend to attack us. Be polite and answer their questions. They're friends, like Phelan.

It's good to see him again.

He would never hurt us, right? He trusts the others. We should, too.

The wolf left the partition and sat before the council.

"Hello, wolf!" Phelan greeted cheerfully.

"Hello, Phelan," my wolf answered as it gave a short wag of its tail.

"Don't be nervous, we're all friends here."

In a gesture meant to inspire comfort, the entire council transformed. They didn't leave to hide behind the partition but removed their robes and revealed underclothes that looked unimportant by design, which were torn to shreds as the human bodies changed.

They were a powerful-looking group. Even Phelan's brown wolf appeared in a healthier shape than when I saw it last. Lady Miriam and Ragnor did not change with them, which I took as a sign that the council was elevated in their animal forms.

"You are welcome here," Lady Bruto's white-furred animal greeted.

Her wolf spoke with the same voice as her human, but with a slight growl to it. This surprised me, for my wolf's voice had always sounded nothing like mine, but had a timbre that was unique and entirely its own.

The black and brown wolf that was Lady Hamish nodded its head.

"You needn't fear us, newcomer. We wish to know you better. Tell us, can your human hear our words?"

"Yes."

"Does he speak to you often?" asked Lord Mikal's gray and brown wolf.

"All the time."

"Do you remember when we met?" This had come from Phelan's brown wolf, who was practically shaking with delight.

"We met in the dungeon when I bit your human. Sorry."

"Don't be. You saved me."

"The young man told us he doesn't control your actions," said Lord Luno's massive gray wolf, which was bigger than its companions by far. "Is this true?"

"He gives suggestions and sometimes I accept them."

"You agree that you are two independent beings sharing one body?"

"Yes. I speak and act for myself. He does the same."

The council looked at each other, sharing a stare that communicated something my wolf was not privy to.

"Josiah is friendly," Lady Bruto's wolf said at last, "but there remains the question of your disposition, and because you speak on your own behalf, we must have the answer from no one else. We are a peaceful community. A united pack. Bringing an outsider into our home potentially puts us at risk. Will you give us your word, on pain of severe punishment, that you will not disrupt our order? That you will remain civil, and bring any grievances to the council instead of settling them with violence? Tell us, stranger wolf, are you capable of behaving, or are you too wild to be tamed?"

My wolf bowed its head. "I am a good wolf."

"Have the woods not made you feral and prone to fighting for survival?"

This question stumped my wolf, for it didn't want to lie, but neither did it want to agree with the truth.

What should I say? it asked me.

Tell the truth, I answered.

"I fight when I have to."

"What if we asked you to fight this very second?"

My wolf blinked. "I don't understand. You wanted me to be tame."

"Strength is a value. We must test yours. Choose your opponent from anyone in the room, and if you best them you will be welcomed here."

"What do you mean 'best them'?"

"Kill them. That is the only way to end a fight, isn't it? Isn't that what you were accustomed to in the circus?"

"Yes, but...I didn't..." Its voice trailed off as it failed to conjure an argument.

"Choose," Lady Bruto's wolf commanded. "We cannot do it for you."

With great hesitation, my wolf studied its potential combatants.

I don't want to do this, it said to me. I don't want to be forced. Never again.

I don't want you to be, either.

What choice do I have?

The others are old, but Phelan looks strong. He would give you a good fight.

I won't kill him.

What about Ragnor? It would be the most fair fight, I think.

I don't want to hurt anyone.

My wolf shook its head. "I will not fight," it said to the council. "Thank you for meeting with me, but I'll take my leave."

It gave a sympathetic glance at Ragnor and without another word made its way to the door.

"Wait!" Phelan's wolf cried.

My wolf turned back to the council.

"That is the answer we were looking for," Lady Bruto's wolf said. "You may become a human again, and as you dress, the council will deliberate."

Lady Miriam, who had been taking notes throughout the meeting, stood from her table and opened the door to the council's private chamber. After collecting the council's robes from the floor, she followed them into the room, leaving Ragnor and my wolf alone.

Eager to exit the center of attention, my wolf ran behind the partition the moment the council disappeared. I could feel the trepidation racing through it and wondered why the animal kept itself in such a state. It had been a simple meeting, after all, but something about the council's questions made it feel weak.

A thought passed over me as I dressed.

You don't think you're worthy, do you? I asked it.

The wolf didn't reply.

I found it bizarre that my wolf, who had been the Champion of the Pit, could feel so small and vulnerable here.

They like you, I promised. They might even enjoy listening to your poetry. Did you notice how interested they became when I mentioned it?

I rejoined Ragnor's side when I was dressed, and the two of us waited patiently for the council to return.

"You did great," he whispered. "Both of you. I've no doubt they'll accept you."

"But they don't expect me to stay forever, right? I'm not ungrateful, it's just...I don't know if I'm ready to put my roots in the ground."

To my surprise, Ragnor wasn't upset by my honesty.

"To do that, you would need to take part in the Passage Ceremony. The choice would be yours, we'll not force you to stay. You'll be a guest for as long as you like, after the council extends their official invitation."

"They were confused by the way my wolf and I communicate. Am I really...what was the word? Abnormal?"

Ragnor shrugged. "Eh...yes, you are, but not in a bad way. All of us know our wolves to be extensions of ourselves. We don't talk to them, as you say you do with your wolf. When we change, we become the wolf, in body and mind. How can I explain it? Transforming is...the same as putting on new clothing. You don't become someone new when you change your pants, do you?"

"You...never hear your wolf?"

"It would be like arguing with my own mind. There are rare exceptions, usually in wolves that had no one to teach them about their gift. Your friend, Lord Phelan, for example. When he first arrived, he claimed his wolf was a separate being too, until he learned that he had been mistaking that 'other voice' as something different from him, when in reality it was his own desires and thoughts."

"Are you saying that when my wolf wants to chew on bones...it's actually me who wants to do that?"

"I'm saying that the wolf brings all your primal instincts to the front with it. It's not bones you seek, Josiah. It's the need to eat. The need to run and hunt."

"But I've no desire to hunt."

"The rational part of your brain doesn't. But your wolf isn't a rational beast. It's your most basic, primitive form. It wants things because you want things." He sighed. "This is why having a proper teacher is vital. They can explain better than I can."

"Do you think I'm wrong for the way I see my wolf?"

"I think everyone does what works best for them. But..." He weighed his next words carefully. "There was something you said that caught me off guard."

"What?"

"Your wolf composes poetry?"

I blushed, embarrassed for admitting it, though I didn't understand why. "It does. Do you think it's really me writing poems?"

"I don't know. It's unheard of for a wolf to have a passion the human does not." 

When he noticed my agitation he put his hand on my shoulder, but before he could impart any words of comfort, the door to the council's room opened. Lady Miriam went to her table, while the ladies and lords of the council, redressed in their formal robes, retook their seats. 

Lady Miriam smiled. "The Council of Wolves has accepted you, Josiah—and Josiah's wolf—as guests of the colony. Ragnor has declared his wish to vouch for you, so his family will host you. The council would be most pleased if you accepted their invitation to dinner tonight, and sat beside them as a guest of honor."

Silence followed her short speech, until Ragnor lightly jabbed me with his elbow, signaling it was my turn to speak.

"It would be my pleasure," I replied.

As a sign that our meeting had reached a satisfying end, everyone offered a polite round of applause. Ragnor pulled me close and ruffled my hair, and the man suddenly felt like a long-lost brother.

"Welcome to the colony, Josiah."