Quil Ateara hadn't really given much thought to the arrival of Emily's nieces. Being a wolf took all of his attention. He loved it. He loved the power, the freedom...and finally knowing what it was that everyone but him seemed to know about. It was like he was part of something, something that was huge, something that required him. He was essential to it. They all were. And especially after those months of not knowing what was going on, of being frightened for his friends and for himself, finding out was a relief.
So when Quil finally got around to going to Emily's for a visit, he was very surprised to meet the two lively little girls in the front yard. The first ran up as soon as he arrived.
"Hi. I'm Susannah. I'm six." Her dark eyes were serious as he showed him seven short little fingers, and he laughed.
"Hi, Susannah. I'm Quil."
"Quill? Like a porky-pine?"
He laughed again. "Yep. Just like a porcupine."
The little girl smiled, and slipped her small hand into his larger one. She pulled him over to where her sister sat in the grass, playing with a beetle that was scuttling over her pudgy fingers.
"This is Claire. She's two." Susannah informed him, this time showing him the correct number of fingers, but he barely noticed.
He knew this feeling, after running with the pack. Sam and Jared thought of Emily and Kim often, but he just couldn't understand why he was suddenly standing stock-still, and barely breathing. It seemed as if the world had tilted on its axis. Like the sun had brightened, and everything was thrown into clear focus. He felt his heart stuttering strangely, and his already feverish skin ratcheted up a few degrees. Everything was muffled, like someone had clapped two pillows over his ears. It was as if he was in a long, dark tunnel, and at the end was Claire, and she was radiating light. He smiled at the sight of her dark hair pulled into pigtails, the delighted grin on her lips as she played with her beetle. Despite never meeting this little girl before in his life, he felt incredibly fond of her. Protective.
He'd imprinted.
On a two-year-old.
Quil was shocked with himself. Disgusted, even. How could he even... He shuddered.
Suddenly, he heard Sam's voice. It shook him out of his reverie. He turned.
"Sorry. What?"
Sam smiled welcomingly. "I see you've met Susannah and Claire."
Quil almost choked on his own spit. He cleared his throat. "Yeah."
Sam's smile quickly turned into a frown. "Is there something wrong?"
Quil very nearly denied it. He was ashamed of himself. But he could not keep something of this magnitude from Sam. Not that it would be a secret for long. The next time he phased... The whole pack would find out anyways. Quil took a deep breath.
"I need to talk to you."
Sam's frown deepened. "Sure. Come in."
Quil pulled his hand gently from Susannah's, told her to go play with her sister, watched them for a moment to make sure everything was all right, and followed Sam inside. His fingers were trembling nervously. He pressed them into fists against his legs to stop the shaking. Sam lowered himself into his favourite armchair and gestured to another, but Quil shook his head tightly, lips pressed into a thin line.
"What's the matter, Quil?" Sam looked concerned. His dark eyes focused on Quil's, and Quil looked away uncomfortably.
"I-" Quil started, voice cracking, "I've imprinted."
Sam's eyes widened. "That's three," he muttered quietly, as if talking to himself, "how common is this?"
Quil ran a shaking hand over his newly-shorn hair. "I don't know, Sam, but-"
"Who is it?" Sam asked suddenly, fingers pressing into the arms of the chair, tendons flexing and standing out against his russet skin.
Quil swallowed and said, in barely more than a whisper, "It's, er-it's Claire."
Sam relaxed his grip on the chair. "Oh. The way you looked, I thought it might be Bella or something."
Quil cracked a small smile. "Yeah, Jake might be a little difficult...but, Sam! Claire? She's two years old! I feel like a-" he paused to take a breath, "like a pedophile or something!"
"Oh, no." Sam told him. "No way, Quil. It doesn't have to be like that, not at all."
Quil was confused, and he said so. "I don't understand."
Sam shifted in his chair so that he was leaning forward. "Think of it this way. You know how, at first, Emily didn't want to be involved at all?"
Quil couldn't figure out where this was going, but he played along. "Yeah."
"And even though we were soul mates, we couldn't be together at first?
Quil nodded.
"Well, it's kind of like that. You obviously can't be together romantically with Claire, but you can be whatever she would rather you be. Right now, I'd say you could be a big brother to her. And when she gets older, you can be her friend. After that, who knows?" Sam's eyes sparkled. "Maybe you will end up like Emily and I, or Jared and Kim."
Quil couldn't believe his ears. "So, I can just wait?"
Sam smiled. "Yes."
All worries set aside, Quil leapt to his feet, grinning. "Well. Well then."
"Go ahead, Quil." Said Sam encouragingly, and Quil didn't need telling twice. He was out of that room in record time, but not before he heard Emily enter the room and Sam informing her:
"Claire is going to be the most spoiled little child in the world."
Quil tore out into the bright sunlight, beaming like the happiest man on earth. He quickly found Claire and Susannah where he had left them, giggling together. They looked up at him with identical pairs of dark eyes. He sat down on the grass beside them, extending one large hand to Claire. "Hi, Claire, I'm Quil."
The little girl ignored his hand and said solemnly, "You sat on Bug."
"I-what?" Quil asked, confused.
"You sat on Bug!" She insisted, poking his broad knee with one short finger. With a jolt, he remembered her beetle playmate.
"Oh!" He said, scrambling to his feet. The beetle was nowhere to be found, though he searched the grass carefully with his keen eyes. To his confusion, he saw the beetle perched precariously in Claire's small palm. She grinned at him.
"April fools!" Claire cried, bursting into giggles. Susannah rolled about on the grass beside her sister, shrieking with laughter.
Quil, even though April Fools Day had not passed yet, laughed appreciatively and sat down again, making sure to not sit on anything. Claire, still giggling hysterically, stood on wobbly legs and stretched her arms as far as they would go about Quil's waist. He patted her head, not quite sure of what to do, but then he realized:
He had years and years to figure it out.