Unwanted Path Taken
The flames of the big camp fire lit the night up. Shadows danced off the rocks of the cliff walls. Sounds of hands striking against animal leather and chanting echoed through down the canyon walls. In traditional tribal dress, men danced around the big flame. It was telling the stories of heroes from the past. This celebration was for a gunslinger, who became the newest member of the tribe. Every new member gets this treatment. Rath just seems a curiosity sight among the circle of men, a white dot among a sea of red.
A wooden craved pipe was being passed around to each man. It came to April, who sat on his right. She took a few puffs from it. The fragrance assaulted his nose. It seemed familiar like a crazed man attacking with a knife.
"Devil grass?" Rath asked.
"Smoking it doesn't cause grass madness," coughed April, "only chewing it does," handing it to him.
Warily he took the pipe from April. Studying it, finally he took a few puffs. Coughing brought some laughter from the circle.
"Don't let that bruised a gunslinger's ego," stated April, "It'll ruin the wonderful mood."
"My body has suffered worse beating then few laughs at my ego," commented Rath.
A female handed a clay bowel to him.
"Why you not being a good woman and help serve the men?" asked Rath.
"Simply not married, my family position, and," she said with a glee, "I've proven not to be a simply woman."
A liquid was poured into the clay bowel.
"Don't ask," she said, "It's hard to say even with a cleared head," lifting the bowel and taking a sip.
"I've tried worse," Rath commented taking a mouthful of the liquid.
After a few rounds of drinking and smoking, Rath's head grew lit. The sounds of cerebration seemed to slow and become muddled together. April's laughing face began fading away. Rath's vision became covered by darkness. His body seemed to float in the darkness. Calmness claimed him for fear couldn't. A bright light headed towards him. It shot into his body. No pain was felt. His hand tapped against his chest to find the entry wound. None could be found.
He caught a glimpse of his right hand. Hair started to grow on his hand. Hair grew over his skin. From head to toe, he was covered with fur. His nose began stretching from his face. It formed a muzzle. His hands and feet changed into paws. His became long.
Pain was felt in his temples. The throbbing pain cut short the realization of him changing into a wolf. The pain woke him from his slumber.
Blinking his eyes adjusted his sight. He wasn't outside by the campfire among a circle of men. In the fact, he was inside a tent. Looking around, he realized it was the interior of April's tent. He was in fact laying on a familiar bunk. In the bunk with him, was April. Only animal skins covered their naked bodies.