[18+]To have love torn away so quickly and without reason… How does one move on?

Today’s story is “I Hear Him Call” by Remus Solken (also known as Remus the Lion), an amateur writer and developer of the Visual Novel “Wild Harmonies”, which you can read a demo of over on Remus’ itchio page.

Read for you by Rob MacWolf — werewolf hitchhiker.

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https://thevoice.dog/episode/i-hear-him-call-by-remus-the-lion

Voice

of

Dog.

This

is

Rob

MacWolf,

your

fellow

traveler,

and

Today’s

story

is “I

Hear

Him

Call”

by

Remus Solken (also

known

as

Remus

the

Lion),

an

amateur

writer

and

developer

of

the

Visual

Novel “Wild

Harmonies”,

which you

can

read

a demo of

over on Remus’ itchio page.

Please enjoy


“I

Hear

Him

Call”

by

Remus

Solken

“Tonight

is

the

night

it

all

changes…”

I muse

as

I

watch

the

sun

setting

below

the

horizon,

the

long

shadows

of

the

trees

blending

and

fading

into

my

own.

The

world

is

bathed

in

dull

blues

and

the

moon

begins

to rise.

I

feel

my

muzzle

and

claws

starting

to

form,

the

pains

that

come

with

them

long

since

past

because

of

him. “It’ll

be

the

night

we’re

starting

again,

just

the

two

of

us!”

He’d

told

me.

And

while

I

stand

there

in

the

silvery

darkness,

I

hear

him

call.

His

howl

fills

me

with

excitement.

Oh

how

I’ve

longed

for

this

day!

The

day

where

I

can

finally

be

free

of

my

burdens

and

live

my

truth.

I

careen

into

the

woods

with

reckless

abandon.

Not

a

care

in

the

world,

for

he

called

me,

I

answered,

and

soon

we will

be

together.

I

find

him

awaiting

me

in

our

secret

clearing. “You

look

beautiful

tonight!”

He

tells

me

as

I

traipse

into

his

territory. “No

more

than

you

do,

my

mate.”

I

respond,

coming

close

to

him.

The

light

of

the

full

moon

above

glistens

across

his

shiny

coat,

and

he

caresses

my

face with

the

tender

touch

of

his

paw.

I

cannot

help

myself.

I

bury

my

lips

against

him,

igniting

our

passion.

Tonight

we

are

finally

free.

Our

love is

like a

wildfire. It

fills

us

with

heat,

and

though

I

know

it’s

nothing

to

fear,

I

still

hesitate

briefly. “I

can’t

believe

we’re

actually

doing

this,”

I

pause,

looking

into

the

gold

of

his

eyes. “I

can’t

believe

the

day’s

finally

here.

The day we’ve

been

planning

for…

how

long

now?”
“Two

years.”

His

voice

is

soothing,

like

a

menthol

drop

for my

entire

body.

I

know

he’s

right,

and

while

his

words

calm

me,

the

wildfire

within

us

still

burns

hot.

With

every

kiss,

every

touch,

every

thrust

of

his

hips,

I

feel

closer

to

him.

We

flip

and

frolick,

taking

turns

providing

each

other with

pleasure

beyond

belief

and

when

we

finally

fall

over

the

edge

together,

we

fall

over

in

pure,

surreal

bliss.

In

our

meadow,

we

lay

there

in

the

afterglow

of

our

act.

A

twig

breaks

nearby.

My

ears

perk,

and

so

do

his. “It’s

probably

just

an

animal.”

He

tells me.
“What if it isn’t, though?”
“Will it

make

you

feel

better

if

I

check?”
“A

little.”
“I’ll

be

right

back.”

He

stands

up

and

begins

to

walk

away.

A

deafening

shot

rings

through

the

air.

His

body

hits

the

ground

with

a

dull

thud.

The

acrid

scent

of

iron

fills

my

nose.

Fear

courses

through

every

fiber

of

my

being

as

I

look

around

our

grove,

then

see

the

barrel

of

the

gun,

still

smoking.

My

fear

turns

to

rage. “WHAT

HAVE

YOU

DONE!?”

I

scream

into

the

night.

Whoever

was

after

us

never

stood

a

chance.

I

took

their

blood

for

his.

I

don’t

sense

any

more

people

nearby,

so

I

return

and

sit

down

next

to

him.

His

gold

eyes

hold

a

dull

stare,

and

the

wildfire

between

us

is

gone,

replaced

with

an

icy

emptiness.

I

crane

my

neck

and

cry

into

the

night.

He

doesn’t

call

back.

———

One

day

has

passed.

I

want

to

feel

anything

at

all,

but

I

can’t.

I

lay

there

with

his

cold

body,

unwilling

to

move.

All

of

our

plans,

our

freedom

together,

our

desire

together,

our

life

together,

erased

in

an

instant.

I

know

I

cannot

stay

here,

but

I

can’t

bear

to

move

either.

He

was

my

everything

and

now

he

lays

here

motionless

beside

me,

unresponsive

as

I

cry

my

pain

into

his

fur.

I

howl

all

the

pain

into

the

twilight

air.

He

doesn’t

call

back.

One

week

has

passed.

I

finally

drummed

up

the

courage

to

follow

through with

our

plan

without

him.

It

doesn’t

feel

right.

Even

though

I’ve

already

buried

him,

I

don’t

want

to

believe

he’s

gone.

The

silvered

bullet

I’d

dug

from

his

heart

weighs

heavy

in

my

pocket.

I

haven’t

shifted

back

since

it

happened.

Maybe

if

I

never

shift

back

again

I

won’t

have

to

deal

with

the

pain

from

my

human

side.

I

loose

my

loneliness

across

the

night

the

only

way

I

know

how.

He

doesn’t

call

back.

One

month

has

passed. “I’m

finally

here...”

I

tell

the

bullet

I

hold,

the

silver

unnaturally

warm

in

my

hand.

I

know

it’s

not

his

warmth,

but

it’s

nice

to

imagine

that

the

warmth

that

bullet

stole

from

me

is

something

more

than

the

silver

it

takes

to

hurt

a

werewolf.

In

this

place

that

was

meant

to

be

our

freedom,

why

do

I

still

feel

chains

binding

me?

Have

I

no

right

to

live

as

what

I

am

and

still

be

happy?

I

howl

my

question

to

the

moon.

He

doesn’t

call

back.

Three

months

have

passed.

My

cries

have

been

answered.

Not

by

him,

but

by

a

group

of others.

They

told

me

that

they

heard

how

lonely

I

was

and

felt

they

needed to

find

me.They

ask

me

my

story,

but

I

can’t

bear

to

tell

it

yet.

So

I

lie as

best as

I

can, “I

was

turned

and

needed

to

escape

my

life

before

someone

finds

out

what

I

am.”
“I

see.”

Their

leader

is

the

one

that

speaks

with

me.
They

all

know

I’m

lying.

I

can

see

it

on

their

faces, and

they

can

probably

smell

it

on

me.

They

don’t

pry

though,

and

I

follow

them

to

their

cabin.Tonight,

for

the

first

time

in

a

long

time,

I

howl

with

others.

He

doesn’t

call

back.

Six

months

have

passed,

and

I

still

feel

as

empty

as

the

day

I

lost

him.

These

werewolves

I’m

with

now,

the

Pierce

Forest

Pack

they

call

themselves,

have

been

kind

enough

to

accept

me

as

one

of

their

own.

I

look

upon

the

relationships

some

of

them

have

with

one

another,

and

sadness

wells

up

within

me

like

a

spring

waiting to

burst

from

the

ground.

I

cry,

and

they

try

to

comfort

me,

never

once

asking

why,

although

I

think

they

may

know.

I

look

up

to

the

heavens,

wondering

why

this

still

doesn’t

feel

right

despite

being

what

we’d

been

looking

for…

I

call

across

the

snowy

woods

from

my

perch on

the

edge

of

the

cliff.

He

doesn’t

call

back.

One

year

has

passed.

I’m

used

to

living

with

my new

pack

now.

A

couple

have

approached

desiring

intimacy,

but

I

decline.

How

could

anything

measure

up

to

the

burning

fire we’d

shared?

Peter,

our

leader,

finally

asks

me

something

that’s

been on

all

of

their

“Why

don’t

you

ever

shift

back

human,

pup?”
It’s a

good

question.

It

would

certainly

make

traveling

anywhere

easier.

I

wouldn’t

have

to

hide

away

in

our

camper

all

the

time. And

there’s

certainly

some

things

that

being

unshifted

helps

with.

I’ve

seen

human

sport

hunters

in

the

woods

eye me with

discomfort.

I

don’t

think

I’m

ready

to

tell

them

though,

so

I

give

a

half

“I

don’t

like

my

human

side.”

We

all

know

it’s so

much

more

than

that,

but

when

we

run

and

howl

together

at

night,

he

still

doesn’t

call

back.

Five

years

have

passed.

I’ve

grown

comfortable

with

my

life

and

my

pack.

They

know now

why

I am

the

way

I

am, yet

they

still

accept

me

despite

that.

I

still

haven’t

had

any

intimate

moments

with

them,

at

least

not

the

way

he

and

I

had,

but

I’ve

been

feeling

more

open

as

of

late.

Is this

what

moving

on

is

supposed

to

feel

like?

I

still

want

to

hold

onto

him.

It’s

as if

by

taking

another

I

would

kill

the

only

pieces

of

him

I

still

have.

Peter

and

his

mate

Kyle

comfort

me

as

I

cry.

The tears

have

been

less

frequent,

but

they

still

come.

For

the

first

time

in

five

years,

I

feel

my

fur

receding

and

my

fangs

shortening.

I

lean

into

Kyle,

and

he

ruffles

my

hair.

For

just

a

moment,

I

remember

how

he

used

to

ruffle

my

hair

just

like

this,

and

the

tears

flow

stronger.

I

howl

out

my

emotion in

my

human

skin.

He

doesn’t

call

back,

but

a

faint

echo

rings

through

the

house.

Ten

years

have

passed.

We

found

a

new

pup

today.

Well, “pup”

is

a

bit

of

a

stretch.

He’s

about

my

age,

but

he

seems

lost

and

alone

like

one.

Was

this

what

I

looked

like

all

those

years

ago

when

the

pack

found

me?

I

ask

Peter

in

private

later

at

our

cabin,

and

he

tells

me that

it

was

similar,

but

not

the

same.

I

look

over

to

the

pup,

and

see

a

familiar

set

of

gold

eyes.

They

aren’t

his

eyes,

but

I’m

reminded

of

him.

When

night

falls,

we all

go

out

howling,

and

our

new

pup

looks

happy,

as

if

he’s

found

something

that

he’s

been

looking

for.

I

know

for

a

fact

that’s

not

how

they

found

me,

but

it’s

intriguing.

Most of the pack

eventually

tires and

goes

back

home,

but

I

decide

to

stay

out

with

the

new

guy. I

take

him

up

to

my

favorite

cliff,

the

full

moon

hovering

above

us,

and

we

sit

there,

marinating

ourselves

in

the

silence

for

a

little

while.

I

finally

break

the

silence

to

ask a

question that’s been

pressing

my

mind

for

the

last

few

hours.
“What’s

got

you

so

happy

tonight,

pup?

You’ve

smelled

like

pure

joy

the

whole

time

we’ve

been

out.”
He

looks

at

me

curiously

for

a

moment

before

finally