Wren almost cowered. The garden was so big. Flowers as far as he could see with small trails through them, some brick, some dirt. Every breath brought more information to him. Lavender, honeysuckle, lilies… Fresh, overturned soil. The pine trees in the distance. The sky was so high above. There were no walls to hide in. Nothing. Just space, and room… He focused on Jackson. Followed Jackson in the right position. Let his entire world shrink down to just Jackson.
His panic diminished once they stepped into the gazebo. It was a small space. Enclosed. Safe.
He loved being outside. He just needed a smaller amount of outside. But… Feeling that breeze. Listening to the leaves of the vines rustling. Slowly, his heart rate returned to normal and he risked looking up at Jackson.
Jackson was completely turned away from him. Wren followed his line sight to see a little pond in the not too far distance. It’s surface was highlighted orange from the setting sun. With careful glances, he tried to take in the rest of the area.
There were so many flowers. So many colors. He couldn’t imagine the amount of work that went into keeping them all looking so nice. The wind rustled the flowers, pushing them down and swaying them back up and Wren let go of some of the tension in his shoulders.
It was nice out here. That feeling wasn’t familiar with him, the way he felt almost settled. Almost… at peace. As that thought entered his mind, a rattling caught his attention. Every bit of peace he’d thought he’d found fled. Jackson turned back around and Kia entered their gazebo.
His mouth filled with saliva as she laid out the various snacks. “Do you like tea?” Yes. Wren wanted nothing more than a cup of that tea. It smelled like what his mom used to drink in the evenings before bed and his heart ached at the memory… but if he said yes, if he said he liked it and wanted it… He kept his mouth shut. Jackson would either give it to him or not.
“Here, drink this and eat as much of this as you want.”
Wren took the cup from Jackson, carefully so as not to touch him and anger him. The first touch of the liquid on his tongue was heaven. The taste wasn’t quite the same as what his mom made, but the scent was close enough. He never took more than a small sip at a time. He didn’t want Jackson to think he liked it too much. He didn’t want it taken away.
Kia moved forward suddenly and pointed at the pile of pastries. “Eat that one. Jackson prefers the chocolate chip, but Margaret’s honey lemon scones are the best.” They smelled delicious, but he didn’t dare. A glance at Jackson didn’t give him any indication on if he should obey the other wolf or not, so he stayed still.
“Eat it.” Jackson didn’t sound happy about giving the command, but a command was a command. Wren chose the smallest one, the one least likely to make him mad for wasting the good food on a wolf.
And god… The scone crumbled in his mouth in a perfect mix of butter, honey, and lemon. Just sweet enough, tart enough. It was gone too soon, even though he’d tried to make it last.
“Do you like the tea? The scone? Do you want a cookie too?”
Wren was frozen in indecision. Yes. To all of it. If he said yes, it was just giving Jackson more power over him. The ability to take away something that he knows Wren likes. Wren heard a grunt and glanced up in time to see Kia removing her elbow from Jackson’s side.
Jackson’s let out a slow breath. “Eat one of each then tell me your favorite.”
The choice was taken out of Wren’s hands. He ate one of each. The chocolate chip cookies were soft, but a little too sweet. There were a little too many chips in them. The peach filled was again, a little too sweet when compared with the honey lemon.
Not that they weren’t all delicious. There was more flavor in each of those than in any meal he’d had since he was 8 years old. The sweetness was just overwhelming to what he was used to. Now he was supposed to tell Jackson his favorite. His heart ticked up and he cleared his throat to give himself just an extra second. “The first one,” he forced the words out.
Kia said something in an excited voice, but Wren didn’t pay attention to the words. His heart was racing. The world felt too big again, even in the enclosed gazebo. The space was pressing down on him. He carefully controlled his breathing, the same way he would before each fight. Slow breaths to settle his mind. Slow, even breaths.
“Do you like the tea? Answer.”
“Yes.” He didn’t allow himself time to think. He answered and took another drink of the tea, which, remarkably, did settle him just a smidge.
“There is no wrong answer. If you don’t like it, then I don’t care. We can get you something else.”
God, did he have to answer? Jackson didn’t tell him to say anything. He liked the tea! It was good and… and Jackson was leaning forward. Leaning into his space. He forced his breathing back to slow, deep, and even and took another sip of his tea. The cup was nearing empty now. He wanted more.
Jackson grabbed a cookie and sat back again. The evening passed in relative silence. Crickets started chirping and fireflies danced above the flower gardens. The distinctive sound of a bob-white called in the distance.
It was the closest to nature Wren had been since he was 8. He stopped worrying about Jackson and Kia and any future punishment he might get. He let himself look, and breath, and be at peace. For just this moment, he would let himself be at peace.
Jackson opened the door across the hall from his room, then stepped aside and gestured for Wren to step in ahead of him. Wren hesitated, then stepped forward. The room was dark and smelled faintly of disuse. Jackson stepped in behind him and Wren forced himself not to whip around. He didn’t like people at his back.“Light is here,” Jackson said and the lights came on. Wren turned around at a normal, sedate pace, in direct odds to the pounding of his heart. Jackson had his hand on a panel at the door. “Bed, couch, bathroom.” Jackson pointed at each thing in turn. “Just come to my room when you wake up in the morning. Kia’s bringing breakfast up.”Wren stared over Jackson’s shoulder. The words Jackson said were all normal, easy words… They just didn’t make any sense. Why was he leaving Wren in this room? Where was his cage? The bars with the slot so food could be pushed in to him. The flat pillow and thin
Kia shoved his laptop towards him as he fell face first onto his bed. “What am I doing, Kia?” He turned his head to her.Her gaze was sympathetic. “A good thing. You know as well as I do that the chances of him being alive this time next year was next to none. Besides, it could always be worse. According to this some former fighters are near uncontrollable without constantly manipulating the collar.”Jackson pulled the laptop on top of him. ‘Severity of Aggression in Rescued Fighter Wolves.’ He scanned through the article. A lot of it wasn’t very optimistic. The best results seemed to come from wolves who were saved at a young age. They were successfully switched to other positions with fairly minor leftover effects.“Did you notice the ages?”“Yeah.” The oldest wolf they had ever rescued was 22 and he was damn near feral according to the article. “I think once they found out
Jackson showered before going to get Wren. He assumed Wren would be enjoying his time alone to relax, or maybe Wren was sleeping in. He hoped Wren was sleeping in. Which is why it took him a moment to comprehend what he was seeing when he opened the door.Wren stood leaning back against the fireplace. His arms were crossed when Jackson opened the door, but fell to his sides as he stepped into the room. Dark circles were under his eyes, clear even from across the room. His hair hung in loose waves around his shoulders. Jackson glanced over. The bed was either perfectly remade or Wren had never touched it. “Good morning,” Jackson said, looking back at Wren.Wren didn’t answer. Jackson hadn’t expected him to.“All right, follow me.”Wren followed. Jackson had him sit at the table again. All at once, Jackson was overwhelmed. Wren wouldn’t talk. Wren wouldn’t sleep. Wren wouldn’t… No. He stopped. He
Wren floated in the river near his home. The water in his ears muffled the cries of his baby sister and the laughter of his mom. The sun warmed his face. He couldn’t figure out why his chest ached when it was such a pleasant day. The scent of his mother’s lavender water was surprisingly strong in his nose. It brought a smile to his face. That scent had never come with anything negative. That scent had never hurt him.The river pulled him down stream and he heard his little brother banging a stick against a tree. He frowned. The day was peaceful and calm and his brother always had to be so loud. He opened his mouth to respond, but remembered his mother’s unhappy frown when they fought and closed it.He kept it shut and the banging kept going on. It would pause. Then three rapid bangs would happen. Then a pause. Frustrated he opened his eyes and froze.There was no river. There was no forest. There was no mother, or brother, or baby sister. The s
It was a little intimidating, just a little, to see the massive wolf come sprinting straight for him. Wren’s ears were flattened back, his head and tail held down low. It wasn’t a friendly approach, but it wasn’t aggressive either.Wren slowed to walk and slunk into the gazebo. He crawled under the table and lay down. Jackson stared at Wren’s tail - the only visible part of him from where Jackson was sitting.“Kia will probably be out there for awhile.” There was no response, but Jackson hadn’t expected any. When Wren was human he barely responded, as a wolf, Jackson figured it was useless. “Why don’t you get up on the bench? It’s more comfortable than the floor.”To his surprise, Wren slowly crept out from under the table. His ears were still flattened tight to his head. He stepped up on to the bench and lay down. Jackson held back his laugh. Wren was almost too large to fit, but he squeezed his
Jackson left Kia in charge of showing Wren how to use the tub and shower. She joined him not long after. “You showed him the selection of soaps?”“Yeah. He seemed a little overwhelmed so I pulled out the ones you use in case he just wanted to stick with that.”Jackson hummed. Kia’s hair was stuck in unattractive clumps. He thought he saw a twig buried in the thick strands. “You might want to shower too.”“Yeah.”She fell onto his bed instead. He pulled his feet out of the way just in time for her land with a muted thump. “He was protecting you earlier.”In the gazebo, when he’d growled at Kia. “That’s what it was? Thank God. I thought he saw you as a threat.”She snorted and rolled her head to the side to look at him. “Nope. He was just telling me to watch it. I just can’t decide if that’s a good sign or not.”Yeah. He kne
Kia sat up and cocked her head to the side. “Wren’s out of his bath. Want me to go get him?”“Yeah.”Jackson was just assuming Wren wouldn’t feel comfortable coming over by himself. To be fair, Kia was the only who really felt comfortable just coming into his room.Kia came back with Wren following behind her. Jackson stared. Wren’s hair was messy, wet, and dripping onto his shirt. He clutched a comb in his hand. his jaw was clenched tight, his shoulders tense. Jackson dropped his gaze back to the comb, then looked back at his hair.“Do you want help combing your hair?” It was a guess, but it was a good guess. Wren’s jaw unclenched at the words and there was only a moment of hesitancy before he nodded.Wren sat in the same chair as before. Jackson took the comb from him, carefully brushing his fingers against Wren’s in the process. Wren didn’t flinch away. Jackson grinned and m
Wren had been through a lot in his life. He’d hurt countless wolves. Countless. He’d been stuck in the same routine of fighting and fear for so long that he’d forgotten what the fresh fear of a brand new situation felt like. The market hadn’t even scared him. He knew what was going to happen. He’d be purchased by a different owner who would run him in the fights again.It hadn’t happened. He never thought it would be scarier to go to someone who wasn’t actively hurting him.He had no control over the whine that left his throat. The first touch, the bending of his fur, he was prepared for pain. Jackson hadn’t hurt him so far. He hadn’t given a single indication of getting enjoyment out of other’s pain. Wren tried to remember that. Jackson’s touch wasn’t forced. Jackson’s touch wasn’t a precursor to pain.So far.Wren held out as long as he could. Every absence of the hand,