Viorel

In Augsburg, they had this nice horse renting facility at the inn. I could rent a horse there, ride for the day, leave it at the inn where I would stay and continue. The next customer would bring the horse back eventually as I would bring back the horse that someone else used further west. But riding a horse wasn’t as easy as I expected. The game first was to choose a horse in the stable and it wasn’t easy for me either. For normal people it probably was, for me it was different. Animals can sense things at a very different level than a human does. It was the first time in my entire life when I ever had contacts with horses, and probably with any type of animals. But something in me really scared them. As soon as I entered the room, they started to kick on their boxes doors and to neigh angrily. I wanted to go out and to start my journey on foot once again but the groom in there pushed me forward laughing and telling me not to be intimidated.

“They are probably having a bad day”, he said and he laughed more seeing me doubtful. 

That one horse could have a bad day, I would understand, that the bad day started when I entered the room and was so highly contagious was another story. I didn’t know how but I knew it was me. They were feeling the predator in me, the sleeping vampire beast I presumed. It took a while to have them calm down. I had remarked from the start that one was calmer than the others. It was a dark brown horse, with lighter mane. I sat in front of it without moving, just looking at it and calming my breath as much as I could while the groom was taking care of the other horses forgetting to tell me that sitting like that was dangerous. While still nervous, the horse started to look more intrigued by my behavior. After some long minutes looking in each other eyes, I had the feeling deep inside that we started to communicate. I stood up as slowly as I could, making sure that he could see my every movements and rending him a bit nervous again. I stopped moving again, trying to keep contact with his eyes. I realized that communicating with each other didn’t mean that we actually understood each other, but at least on my side, I was trying. He wanted me to go, for sure, as far away as possible. But I wanted to tell him that I was tired of walking and tired to share cars with talkative human beings who were only talking for the sake to hearing their own voice as if they were going to forget it any minutes. We looked at each other and started to fight, slowly as I concentrate all possible reassuring thoughts toward him in my mind, I started to feel that I was wining his trust. Extremely cautiously, I extended my hand toward his head. Slowly, slowly I reached it and it bit me. I still didn’t move, that was a protective reaction for it and I knew it. I kept the pain for myself and waited it to release my hand while a foggy memory came to my mind once again.

I was in tears, sitting near a wolf, a black and grey wolf which suddenly transformed into a beautiful woman with big caring blue eyes. She pulled me close to her and cuddled me.

“Don’t cry Viorel, don’t cry baby”, I raised my hand to my mouth, it wasn’t a hand at first, it was a wolf feet but then it transformed into a human hand.

“It hurts”, I said, “Why do they do that? It hurts so much.”

“I know baby”, she answered, “But human like all creatures need to eat and to protect themselves. Therefore, they need to set those traps.”

I looked at her as she started to leek my wound and stopped crying.

“You have been very brave today. Some of us would have just bitten their feet to free themselves. You stayed and born with the pain until I came to release you, I’m very proud of you.”

“Mum”, I said, “Why would someone rather lose a feet than wait?”

“Because that’s the difference between human and animal, baby. Animals find the easiest way to deal with things without thinking about the consequences. Human are more careful. That’s why I’m proud of you.”

Tears came to my eyes as the image of my mum disappeared. I had been looking for her in my memory for so long and for the first time since that night in Sighişoara I finally remembered her, this time, for the first time as well I understood the meaning of my tears. But my mother wasn’t a human as I expected her to be since that night when she had been called worthless blood. She was a Lycanthrope, a werewolf. They too were originating from Transylvania. I started to understand more and more the relationship between my judge and my father.