My name is Amberle Crest. I come from a modest pack, Forest Paw.

I study in the pack school, this morning, I woke up feeling sick, mother and father saying I could stay home from school for the day. About an hour ago I went to the kitchen for a drink and that's when it happened, my ankle broke on its own and I let out a blood curdling scream that had my parents running to me. It was then we realized I was shifting.

"She's only six! She shouldn't be shifting till she is sixteen!" It was my mother, her voice laced with fear and worried. I knew that the fever I had been experiencing since last night was now not a cold or flu. My body decided that now would be the time I would shift into my wolf form for the first time.

I cry out, my voice mixing with a howl. How could anyone expect a six—year—old to handle so much pain in one go. I know the risks of an early shift. Father made sure that we knew that the shift was a painful process and reassured my siblings and I that I would be fine when it happens at sixteen until now, when I shifted only at six years old. But what I want at this moment is the pack doctor to come and numb me. Tears are forming in my eyes as I helplessly look towards my mother and father, begging for help.

"It just means our little Amber will be mated to an Alpha one day, maybe even a Royal." My father said with pride as he reassured my mom that everything would be alright. He hugs her briefly before bending down and holding a bottle of water with a straw to my lips.

"Drink Amberle, it'll help." I do as he tells me to and quickly drink as much of the cold liquid as fast as possible. He was right, it did help. But my body contorted with pain as I shifted to all fours, my body changing from human to wolf, the pain more unbearable than before. Tears were streaming down my face as my jaw becomes longer till it is a snout, teeth sharpen unnaturally, and fur covers my skin.

My mother leaves the room crying knowing that the possibility of me making it through the shift at this age is low. I could end up dying today just from the shift.

But after what feels like an eternity of pain I slowly open my eyes to a new sensation.

I did it.

The house is quiet, but I could sense my parents in the room. Their presence calling to me like a G.P.S signal. Something instinct told me to listen too.

"Honey, are you okay?" My mother's worried voice carries from across the room from where I was hiding. I whimpered slightly wanting to answer but finding I couldn't. It took me a moment until my mind wrapped around the fact that I was in wolf form. My tail thumps gently and I let out a soft whine. It was clear my parents were giving me space to learn about my second body, letting me test my limbs and focus on the new sensation of being lower to the ground. With courage I stand on wobbly legs, taking my first step before crashing to the floor and out of the safety of my hiding spot behind the kitchen island.

My parents gasp and I stared at their faces, their eyes wide with awe as they watched my movements as I struggle to stand again, my mother quickly helping me up and letting me use her body as support to stand.

"Amberle, you're beautiful. Maxwell, grab the full mirror from the hall way for our daughter to see herself." My mother exclaims happily, her hands in my fur and softly petting me. I face my reflection with shock and curiosity as a fluff ball of fur stares back at me in the reflection. From what I can see I was the size of a full—grown medium dog, smaller than most werewolves who shift for the first time because I am only six but still bigger than I expected. In all honesty I should not have shifted at all for another ten years when a werewolf is mature and strong enough to handle the pain the first shift brings. The wolf in the mirror had fur like fire and it is this fur that mesmerizes me the most as my striking blue eyes stand out against the fur. Like the surface of the sun with multiple oranges, red and yellows it holds my attention in the reflection of the mirror and when I moved each strand of fur swayed as if I am a ball of living fire.

I am beautiful and I knew it, even if I am six.

For a while I just stare at myself, moving my tail and paws to watch my fur. My whole being fascinated me. Hours passed and my parents left me to watch my reflection as I sat quietly in the kitchen floor. Now and then they would remind me to drink water or eat food that they place in bowls for me to eat. I just refuse to shift into my skin and go back to walking around like a normal every day human would.

"We're home!" My sister calls as she and my brother slam the front door closed. School must have ended for the day as their loud footsteps announce their way towards the kitchen.

"How is Amber doin—" My brother stops his question when he catches sight of me only to stare at my form, my tail wagging with happiness to see my siblings. Both had shifted early, Zack at age ten and Mia at age nine. Zack is now fourteen and Mia is eleven. Both have experience as wolves over me and knew the pain of an early shift. My brother was considered a prodigy when he shifted. It meant his life would be hard since his shift was early, same as Mia's and now mine.

"Is that Amberle?" Mia asks in awe, her eyes staying on me.

"Yes, apparently the fever she had this morning was her starting to shift." My father answers, taking the mirror away from me. I whimper in protest, biting the cuff of his pants gently and giving him puppy dog eyes.

"Sorry Amber but you've sat in front of that mirror almost all afternoon. You need to get up and move around more first to get used to your wolf side." I whimpered again after his statement as I move to keep staring at myself. I knew my father is right. That my clumsy attempts to keep the image of my fur in front of me has my body tripping and slipping on the hard wood every few steps until father and the mirror were too far to catch up. I could hear the gasps from my siblings, turning to see their eyes still trained on me, on my fire like fur. Their wolves were dull compared to mine. Zack is a beige wolf with a white spot over his left eye and Mia a soft russet brown with black tipped paws. They have the same colours as my parents' wolves.

But I am unique.

I am different.

***

I was regarded as an elite wolf since I finished the first shift at six, and now I have been training over three years.

Elite wolf can choose to be hunters or trackers at sixteen.

If strong enough we could be the leaders of our pack like a Beta, Second Beta, Head Hunter, or Head Tracker.

My mother always takes Mia and I for extra training because Mia seemed to be the only one barely able to keep up.

But my body although small is faster than most sixteen—year—old shifters. I could keep up easily with older wolves and even hide my scent better.

I could be considered a natural.

Now it's the time to go hunting with my family once a month. I personally am eyeing the tracking spot just like my mother — the fastest Tracker in our pack. Sometimes we hunt in the forest, training our bodies to dodge trees as we catch prey. I loved the chase of the hunt. My favourite things are usually smaller prey like squirrels and rabbits. Animals considered too quick to catch. After strict training from my mother I became quick enough to grab a squirrel as it scampers up a tree and beat a rabbit to its burrow. The hard parts were leaving a clean kill.

But there were some skills we are taught that are considered essential in case any of us became a rogue. This included how to loot from human territories, what herbs and plants are edible as well as what farmer would not miss a few cattle from so called "animal attacks".

After hunting, we returned home quickly, preparing for the animal attack tonight.

Because our pack is situated in the north—western parts of Ontario Canada, close to Sauble Beach area. The area held many forest and lands that are deemed unsuitable for living thanks to witches but close enough to farms that a simple raid on a moonless night is all it took. My parents tell us to shift just inside the tree line by our house before silently making our way through the territory until just outside where a field of cattle greeted our sight. Calves bleated and ran around, too restless to sleep. Their mothers slept blissfully unaware of the threats that lurk just behind them. Our targets are the babies.

I am first to go since I distracted the creatures with my fur, my wolf body slowly maturing into a delinquent. Our hunting strategy is that I distracted, the rest kill. Within thirty minutes we have five calves and are on our way home with the deed done, the farmer would be pissed but it is a sight many get use to considering coyotes and normal wolves living in the area. We stop at the butchering hut, a cold concrete hut my father had built so that he could cut the meat and send a portion to the pack house to help stock up. Something set as a mandatory rule by the first Alpha of the pack that is carried down many generations. Slowly we place the dead calves on the metal square just outside the door and left my father to work while my mother, brother, sister, and I go out to the forest, killing a few wild turkeys and a dear. Our goal is to help get a supply going for when it is needed as well as keep the stock at the pack house up for the next few weeks.

We repeat the process of putting them on another metal square and left to go into the house, taking a shower and relaxing. It is a long weekend here in Ontario due to Family Day being tomorrow, so my siblings and I get to stay up late and watch movies with our parents. This is the only time we get to do this kind of bonding since Zack is in college and Mia in high school, so our parents do not have to worry about them and their activities now that they have chosen their path and place in the pack. But because I am still young and have yet to choose a path of a pack member my parents still treated me like a child.

The night went on about what else we would have with the burgers and the fun we would have at the pack run tomorrow night. In the end I found myself curled up between my brother and sister fast asleep.

The next evening, our dinner had been finished and now it is time for the annual family day run. To say that I am excited is an understatement. I love being in wolf form and running in the night as my fur moved like flames in the wind. It always amazes newly shifted wolves when they run with the pack for the first time especially since they have never seen my fur until the pack run.

I'm well—prepared and asked my dad impatiently.

"Daddy can we go for the run now? The pack should be ready for one."