Isobel Morris loved playing outside on full moon days. It was the time of each month when her wolfblood powers were at their strongest. She could run faster, smell more, hear things from further away. It was great. She sprinted around the backyard at speeds far beyond what a human could reach, just trying to burn off some of her energy before moon rise.
Full moons on the outskirts of Lavesque, Ontario were alright, but Isobel always wondered what it would be like on the Moors, back where her parents grew up. They told her all about their adventures in Stonybridge, their nights as wolves frolicking in the woods.
Mam told Isobel about her first transformation. She and Dad were teens at the time, stuck on the island Lindisfarne on a school field trip. They had to sneak out of the hotel and onto the beach to transform in secret. She explained the time Dad got arrested the night of a full moon and almost transformed in the holding cell. She and her parents, Isobel’s grandparents, got him out just in the nick of time, and they ran to the woods where they spent the full moon. Isobel wanted stories like theirs for herself.
The scent of her best friend Florence, a human, entered her nose. She was walking down Isobel’s street with her parents in tow. They approached the house, and Florence rounded the corner to enter the backyard. Isobel slowed to keep pace with Florence. The two girls raced towards their favorite tree, a great oak at the edge of the property line.
Florence was a pretty girl. Deep orange hair with tight curls pulled back into two puffy buns crowned her head. Isobel wished she had cool hair like Florence, but her dirty blonde hair was as straight as could be. Florence would tell Isobel to appreciate having straight hair. It’s easier to take care of, Florence would say. Isobel normally did little more than tie her hair into a pony tail, maybe a single braid if she was feeling up to it. This day was a messy pony tail day.
“What are you doing here so early?” Isobel asked. “It’s not even sunset yet.”
“I know.” Florence panted between words. “My mum said she needed to talk to your mum though, so we thought we’d come by now, then take you back with us for the night like usual.”
They chatted and giggled like tween girls do, trading gossip like marbles and ranking teachers based on who would be more likely to accept an extension on homework. Their English teacher just assigned them a book report on Lord of the Flies.
“The book was alright, but it would’ve gone so much differently if the characters were wolfbloods. We know how to work as a team.”
Isobel wondered what she would have done in their place. As the daughter of an alpha, she was the natural choice for the leader. She wasn’t so sure she’d be able to keep the others in line, though. Especially if it was her class; those kids didn’t exactly treat her too kindly after they found out she was a wolfblood.
The sun started to set. It was time to lock Isobel’s parents in the basement. Isobel and Florence headed toward the house to see their parents inside. Maddy and Rhydian Morris, Isobel’s parents; and Tom and Shannon Kelly-Okanawe, Florence’s parents. They were all friends back in England. Isobel didn’t know the story of why they left, only that Mr. and Mrs. Okanawe-Kelly moved to Quebec shortly after college, then to Lavesque a few years later to be closer to the Morrises.
The parents sat around the living room, smiling and talking. When Isobel and Florence entered the room, Mam locked eyes with Isobel.
“Oh good, you’re both here. We were just talking about what we want to do for Jana’s birthday.”
Jana, their wild wolfblood friend from Stonybridge. She had visited a few times, and Isobel loved her like an aunt. She never talked about her life in the wild, though. Isobel tried to ask a few times, but Jana never stayed on the topic long enough to get any information out of her.
Dad finished Mam’s thought, “How would you girls like to go to Newcastle?”
Isobel and Florence’s faces lit up. She was finally getting her chance to go to England. And she’d get to see Jana! Mam and Dad saw her excitement and pulled her in for a hug.
“We’ve already cleared it with the school,” Mrs. Kelly-Okanawe stated. “We wanted to surprise you as well.”
“Are you excited?” Mr. Okanawe-Kelly asked.
“Are you kidding? I can’t wait!”
Mam and Mrs. Okanawe-Kelly detailed the entire travel plan. Leave next week via plane, show up at Jana’s flat the next day, spend time with Jana in the city, and end the trip with camping on the Moors. It sounded like heaven on earth to Isobel. She’d get to live out her wild wolfblood dreams.
Dad interrupted the conversation. “For now though, we need to get to the cellar.” He held up his forearm. His veins changed from their normal blue hue to a dark silver. He was beginning to change.
Isobel went downstairs with her parents. They entered their secure room which they affectionately referred to as the Den.
“We’ll see you in the morning, pet,” Mam said as Isobel locked the door. Her parents howled, and Isobel howled back to them. It was their monthly tradition.
Back upstairs, Florence and her parents talked about all the places they’d go. As humans, they’d have more options for places to explore, assuming the UK was anything like Canada, the United States, and other Western countries with wolfblood rights. There were many stores and restaurants that still weren’t letting wolfbloods in. It didn’t make sense to Isobel, but that’s the way things were.
Isobel put that on the back burner for the time being. She grabbed her backpack, threw in a change of clothes, and got herself ready to head over to Florence’s for the night.
Florence’s house is a lot like Isobel’s: single-family, detached, brick and mortar, and just barely big enough for a family of three. Theirs also had a basement, but it wasn’t set up as a den like Isobel’s basement. Beyond that, though, there wasn’t anything about the two buildings that would differentiate one as a wolfblood house versus a human house.
The girls ran straight up the stairs to Florence’s bedroom. They had a lot of planning to do if they were going to England in a week’s time. Cool outfits would be of utmost importance. Florence pulled every article of clothing out of her wardrobe so they could sort through them. Florence held up outfit combinations, and Isobel proffered her opinion. They needed to take weather into account—unarguably the worst part of choosing clothes. Whatever she wore, it needed to look good with a jacket over top.
Florence put together a great fit. Red top with cap sleeves, jean shorts with a light grey skirt to mimic a skort, and matching red boots. Isobel squinted and bit the inside of her cheek. Something was missing.
“I’ve got it!” Isobel declared. She reached onto Florence’s desk and grabbed a yellow fabric paint marker. On the front of the shirt, she drew a crown and wrote the word, “Queen” in big bold letters. Now it was perfect.
Ember Frost Writes 
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