Rhyley was content. He had made the moon happy by changing into a werewolf and he was leading his soulmate, the girl he loved, to the place where the teenage werewolves would hold their Wolfsong. It was special for Sandra to see him in wolf form - there were times, like at the full moon, when he felt as though the wolf form was his true form and the human one simply a second skin: an extra, unnecessary coat over other layers when the weather wasn’t that cold. Shifting was liberation, an unmasking: it was magic... Rhyley loved it.
He couldn’t describe the pleasure of feeling Sandra’s hand in his fur. It was a sensation akin to the one of her touching his bare skin but even more wonderful since her skin’s smoothness against his coat was like the touch of a soft material against human skin, though the other way around... - it delighted him, was the thing that mattered.
He lifted his nose and inhaled the familiar aromas of the forest - it felt like his second home. He half longed to run endlessly inside it, darting nimbly between trees and leaping into the cool stream that ran through it, while living like a normal wolf. He had heard of Alphas who had chosen just that sort of life, whether for a few days or for months on end. They could do that because they weren’t automatically turned back to humans when dawn broke on the morning after the full moon - as other werewolves were. Rhyley envied them their freedom - greater even than the freedom of stepping naked through a forest, knowing that you could stop thinking and surrender to just feeling as Nature welcomed you into its aura.
They were getting closer now; Rhyley could smell the rest of the young werewolves - everybody had a unique scent and he could detect Amelie, Willis, Jonah and slowly all the rest as they gravitated towards the Alpha’s son, Roger: the wolf that had called with a calm yet authoritative howl. Soon they would be united in one event - a display of reverence - even love - for the moon, a symbol of what they were capable of as werewolves, and an act which meant that they bonded in a way no human who knew nothing of werewolves could imagine. The Wolfsong.
Rhyley was ready.