Once she was a few miles away from Jergen and had doubled back to make sure that she wasn't being followed, Ylwa burst into a run towards the nearest river. She didn't stop at the edge, but ran right to the middle of the river. As she stopped, she plopped down right in the middle of the river to think. Why didn't I listen to that voice of reason in my mind and run far away from that accursed stranger? Why didn't he like me enough to leave his "companions" for? Will my pack accept me back? As the fact sank in that her prospects of an exciting life had ended, Ylwa sat in the river, alternating between devastation and anger, until long after nightfall.
If she was to return to her family and hide what had transpired this past week, the first thing that Ylwa needed to do would be to get the stranger's smell off of her. That, in addition to traveling without leaving a trail to follow, was where the river would come in handy. As the night continued on, she was able to pull herself back together long enough to do what needed to be done. She submerged herself in the river repeatedly, scrubbing every part of her body, trying to remove that offending scent. She could find some fragrant plants to wash herself with sometime over the next couple of days.
Besides her few frantic bouts of plunging and scrubbing, Ylwa spent most of that first night rather listlessly. At the thought that she was returning to her old, mundane life, the feeling of emptiness inside of Ylwa grew. The second and third night she transformed, running a bit. At one point, she smelled a small deer that would make a nice, easy catch. She thought about hunting it, but didn't quite have the motivation. Running through the woods and hunting – formerly favorite pastimes of hers – seemed somewhat lackluster now that she realized those things were likely to be the biggest excitement she would ever have in life.
After three nights, Ylwa felt that she was ready to make her return home. It was the evening of the fourth night. She had been gone from home for… how long had it been? Two weeks now? She found some more fragrant plants and scrubbed herself down in them while bathing in the river one more time. She then transformed and began the long journey back to her pack. Unlike on her other nightly runs, her legs felt like heavy tree stumps that night. She was not in a hurry to arrive. She took her time, slowing more and more as she neared them. Because she didn't hunt and consume the warm, oozing heart of any prey, her transformation did not last the night. When she was only a couple of miles away from her pack, Ylwa stopped. She took a few minutes to take in the sights and scents of home and calm her racing emotions.
Once she had as much of a handle on her feelings as she thought she was going to have, and had expunged all thoughts of the stranger from her mind (just in case anyone could tell), she began to travel the final couple of miles back to where her pack would be either sleeping or just arriving home after a night run. She smelled them before she could see them or hear them. Suddenly, a longing to be with those she loved overwhelmed her. Who cared what they thought, or how the life they offered seemed to be insufficient? She missed them and wanted to see them again. She practically flew the rest of the way back.
Ylwa quickly spotted her great aunt, Ralfina, bending over a pot, stirring something that smelled absolutely fantastic to Ylwa, who had barely eaten the last few days. Ylwa ran up to her aunt, shouting out her name, and then smothering her in an embrace.
"Ylwa! I began to wonder whether you had forgotten about us." Ralfina fussed.
"I couldn't forget about you." Ylwa said, hugging her aunt again.
"Some females do, when their time comes. They will go away and we won't see them for years, or ever again. I am glad that you were not one of them." Her aged aunt told her, as she sized Ylwa up to see what sort of condition her health seemed to be in and then promptly offered her an empty bowl. Ylwa flushed, not sure exactly what her aunt meant by "when their time comes", but feared that she knew.
Ylwa licked her lips greedily as Ralfina ladled some of that delicious-smelling stew into Ylwa's wooden bowl. As soon as the bowl was filled, Ylwa greedily tipped the bowl and started pouring some into her mouth, burning her tongue in the process. She saw a bowl full of bread sitting on a log a few feet away. She grabbed a loaf and dipped that into her stew so that she could savor the stew's delicious flavor without burning herself again.
Ralfina was technically a grandmother of sorts to the entire pack. The mate of a pack leader who had passed long ago, she oversaw the care of all of the pack's current members. She was their healer, who made potions from herbs and other ingredients to cure minor illnesses, and was also sort of the mother figure of the entire pack. Once pups grew old enough to wander around the campsite on their own and did not require constant supervision (usually around 3 years of age), their upbringing became the responsibility of the entire pack, not just their biological parents. Sometimes they stayed on with their biological mother (and father, if they were a bonded pair) for longer, but many of them enjoyed the excitement of crashing at whoever's home they happened to be at when they finally ran out of energy. This freed up the parents to hunt, gather supplies that the pack needed, patrol their lands in order to ensure that no one wandered too near, and produce more pups. While there were always an abundance of aunts and uncles about to let the pups know when they overstepped a boundary, Ralfina was the one the young pups usually went to for comfort and affection. Even the adults all went to her for her expert advice on most matters.
Just then, a few of the younger pups came clamoring up and began peeking into and chattering around the pot of stew, removing any further opportunity for Ylwa to be subjected to perceptive remarks by Ralfina.
"Step back, children." Ralfina told the youngsters. "You're not about to starve… unlike Ylwa here." she added.
So it was more obvious than I thought that I haven't eaten much the last few days. The children, before oblivious, then noticed Ylwa sitting there. A couple of them gave her stares of astonishment, like she was a ghost returned from the dead. Ralfina handed out bowls to each of the children. She then ladled half a bowl of stew into each one. She told the children to go sit down, and then handed out half a loaf of bread to each.
"That stew is too hot to eat, so how would you like a story while we wait for it to cool off?" Ralfina asked the children. They all agreed enthusiastically, so Ralfina plunged into a story about an adventurer who wandered all across the land as a werewolf, slaying enemies and punishing those who made a habit of doing bad things to others. Eventually, the hero of the story ended up facing an ancient evil that had returned to destroy the world. The whole wandering around and making the land a safer place reminded Ylwa a bit too much of Jergen's talk of his companions. She left before hearing the fate of this hero and their ancient evil opponent.
Children in Ylwa's pack were not abundant. Plenty of pups were born to members of her pack, but only about half of them survived their first few years of life. She knew that this was an issue that had the pack elders very concerned. One time when she and some of her friends decided to eavesdrop on a council meeting, this topic was brought up, along with such frightening words as "merger" and "importing fresh blood". She hoped that they weren't considering sending more members of the pack away, such as they did with those that they deemed too weak or unsuitable to take the blood. She also hoped that they didn't try to replace Ralfina. It wasn't her fault that not all of the pups made it. She was more upset about their deaths than anyone.
Ylwa wandered listlessly through her pack's campsite, halfway hoping that she would run into some of her friends that were close to her age, halfway hoping not to run into anyone who might have noted her absence. She was tired, but wasn't sure where she would choose to sleep that day. She had outgrown sleeping in the homes of random aunts and uncles years ago, but did not yet have a shelter of her own. Only one of her close friends had chosen to build herself a shelter so far. While the topic was coming up more and more amongst those she grew up with, those of her age usually slept outdoors when the weather permitted. When the weather was foul, they would find a corner of the large tent used for community meals during bad weather to curl up in. The shelter that most of her family members chose was a tent made of skins that they had hunted themselves. As her pack had known a fairly peaceful existence as of late, though, more and more of them began opting for permanent homes rather than shelters that they could take down in a hurry and carry with them if they were discovered. Having your own home, whether that be a tent or a permanent structure, was sort of a right of passage that a young wolf usually only embarked on if they were soon to become a parent or wished to establish themselves as stable (generally to obtain a higher rank in the pack or to acquire a mate).
Ylwa had picked her way through most of the camp without having to engage anyone with more than an exaggeratedly weary "good morning" that she hoped would prevent further questions, when she saw Rezso, her pack's leader, swiftly approaching. Great. The very last person I wanted to run into.
"Ylwa!" he addressed her. "You have been absent for quite some time. I am glad to see you back. Nothing's wrong, is it?" he prodded.