Page 13 of Raised By Wolves

He’s finally sticking the right key into the lock when a low rumble comes out of Holo’s throat. The woman puts a hand onthe chief’s arm and says, “Actually, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll feel safer onthisside of the bars.”

Shit. I glare at Holo. “Couldn’t keep your hostility to yourself?” I mutter.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t like how she smells.”

I get it. Wolves don’t keep their feelings secret, either. As far as I know, humans are the only animals that try to.

The chief drags a folding chair over for Ms. Pettibon. She pulls out a clipboard and some kind of official-looking form, and then she asks us for our names.

I’m still pissed about losing our escape chance, so I cross my arms over my chest and keep my mouth shut. Pettibon and I play a staring game for a while. When she gives up and looks down, I decide to talk. Like a wolf, I’ve proven my dominance.

“Kai and Holo,” I say.

“Last name?”

I shake my head. No such thing.

“And your address?” she asks.

“We live at 1101 Two Rocks Past a Stream,” I say. “The Woods, Idaho.”

Holo starts snickering. Ms. Pettibon knows it’s a bullshit answer, so she grits her teeth and writesUnknownon the line.

She wouldn’t last ten minutes where we come from. I look at her soft hands and her painted nails and try to imagine her gutting a fish. It’s impossible. I can’t see her grabbing that cold messy slime at the base of the head and yanking on it. Can’t see her cutting out the liver and the swim bladder with a knife. She’d starve to death before she’d mess up her manicure. This makes me laugh.

“What’s amusing you, Kai?” the woman asks.

Instead of answering, I start to whistle. I can do it way better than that crusty old doc.

“That’s lovely—what’s that song?” Pettibon asks. She’s trying to make friends with me, even though we both know it’s not going to happen.

“Robin.”

“Robyn, the Swedish pop singer?”

“Who? No, robin thebird.”

What kind of idiot can’t recognize one of the most common bird songs there is?

The same kind of idiot who puts a bunch of paint on her lips and sprays herself with chemicals that pretend to be flowers, I guess.

“Well, you’re very talented, Kai,” Ms. Pettibon says tightly.

“Thanks. Not that your opinion matters to me.”

Ms. Pettibon decides to see if Holo’s going to be any friendlier. “Does your sister take care of you, Holo?” she asks.

Holo shrugs, like,I don’t know. Sort of.

Maybe that’s a fair answer. But what am I supposed to do, follow him everywhere? I don’t have time for that. Creatures in the woods have to look out for themselves. I don’t constantly dominate him, the way I would if we were wolves. And I definitely don’t try to kill him, like I would if we were black eagles.

“How about your mom and dad?” Ms. Pettibon says.

Instead of answering, Holo pushes his nose through the bars and sniffs her. Then he makes a face of disgust. I don’t get it—did he think she’d magically start smelling better?

“Did they hurt you? Is that why you ran away?” she asks him.

“They bit us when we were naughty,” I say.

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