Revolting

They waited until almost midnight before they made a move. Frankie and Boyd commandeered a small fishing boat from god-only-knows-where. They loaded their belongings into the boat and then piled on. The boat was small for seven people, but luckily the lake was relatively calm. Just to be safe, Michael strapped a life vest around Hannah before he lifted her onto the deck.

She was like a little kid on a boat for the first time. Maybe it was her first time, Michael had no way of knowing. She leaned out over the edge, watching the dark water move away from the small boat. They were only using a small trolling motor, so their progress was slow. She seemed transfixed by the water, even reaching her hand down to trail her fingers through the cold, dark water. She was making Michael so nervous that he had to stand beside her with one hand gripping the belt of her life jacket. He feared that any moment she would lean over too far and fall headfirst into the water. He didn't even know if she could swim or not.

The wind was freezing cold coming across the lake, and when Hannah finally tired of playing in the water, she was shivering. She only wearing thin gym clothes. She huddled up against Michael, seeking warmth, and he happily wrapped his arms around her, turning his back into the wind to protect her.

It was impossible to tell how long they were in the boat moving across the water. They used no lights, and no navigational equipment except for the stars and the brothers' innate sense of direction. Some of the others had dozed off in their seats, and Hannah had fallen asleep in Michael's warm, protective arms.

"Land ho!" Frankie said, pointing through the night mists. With his exceptional werewolf vision he could just make out the shadow form of the shoreline in the distance. There were fewer houses on this side of the lake, at least along this particular part of the shore. They ran aground on a rocky beach. Michael jumped down into the thigh-deep water and carried Hannah to the shore so that she would stay dry. After they had carefully unloaded all of their gear, they pushed the boat back out into the lake and let it drift. Hopefully some good Samaritan would find it in the morning and return it to it's owners.

"We better move inland," Michael said, with an uneasy glance up and down the shoreline. Being along the water's edge made him uneasy. The lake was popular with sport fisherman, tourists and locals alike. He felt there would always be too many eyes on them if they stayed near the shore. He hefted Hannah back on his back and began marching through the thick undergrowth. He wasn't paying much attention to what was underfoot, his focus was on the trees ahead. Like all wolves, he had exceptional night-vision, but he was in unfamiliar territory.

Hannah made a noise in her throat, and lifted herself up higher on his back.

"Hey," he said softly, speaking over his shoulder to his small passenger. "What's wrong?"

She made the noise again, as though she were trying to tell him something.

"What is it?" He stopped moving, and started to put her down, but instead of sliding off as usual, she squeaked and climbed back up his torso as though he were nothing but a stout tree. She tugged at his hair and gestured at the ground. "I wish you could speak in words, because I'm sure you are trying to tell me something."

She grunted and pointed a finger down again.

He looked down at the ground, clueless. Frankie caught up to him, his back heavily loaded with their packs and belongings. "Hey boss, why are we stopping?"

"I don't know... Hannah's acting weird."

"Has she ever acted normal?" Caroline grunted, earning herself a cold warning look from the Michael. He may not be the alpha any more, but he wasn't going tolerate anyone bad-mouthing his mate.

"Seems like she's pointing at the... oh shit!" Frankie slapped himself in the forehead.

"What? What the hell is it?" Michael asked, growing irritated that he still hadn't figured it out.

Frankie bent down and plucked a plant by the woody stem, holding it up gingerly between his finger tips. At first Michael didn't recognize it, because the leaves were small, and still reddish as new spring growth. "Shit is right," Caroline grumbled, "We've been marching straight through poison ivy."

Now that Hannah had brought Michael's attention, he could see it was everywhere, in every direction. "Leaves of three, let it be," he groaned. And Michael was only wearing a pair of basketball shorts and his work boots. His legs were totally exposed.

"I guess we know why this stretch of shore is uninhabited," Sarah said dryly. She at least was wearing long jeans.

"She tried to tell me," Michael said in wonderment. "She knew it, and she was trying to communicate with me." He felt the thrill of hope building in his heart. More and more she was showing signs of human consciousness, and basic human behaviors. He wasn't too late. His feisty little mate would come back to him, he was sure of it.

"What do we do now?" Caroline asked.

"Its too late now, we are already in the middle of it. Lets just keep moving." Michael bounced a little to adjust Hannah's weight, and then continued moving westwards. After a few miles they picked up a snowmobile trail and started to follow that. They'd been pressing on for hours, the morning sun was up and warming their backs as they trudged on, when Michael felt his legs beginning to burn. He tried to ignore it at first, but soon he could no longer pretend that his shins weren't itching like crazy.

Soon the others were also starting to scratch and complain. "Oh, goddess have mercy," Lonnie whined, dropping his pack so that he could scratch at his legs. Frankie was squatted down, pouring water from his canteen over his red and swollen legs.

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"This is awful," Caroline agreed, scratching one leg with the foot of the other.

"We need to make camp," Michael said, his eyes scanning their surroundings for a safe place. They retreated about a quarter of a mile into the woods, into a sheltered spot that seemed relatively safe. Hannah slid down, and Michael immediately bent to examine his legs closer. The skin was red and swollen, and small lines of blisters were beginning to rise across his shins. Hannah squatted in front of him and looked at the rash curiously.

"Lucky you, you were up out of the bushes." Michael said morosely. Actually, three of them had been "lucky" that morning. Hannah was carried out of reach of the young plants, Sarah had been protected by long pants, and Boyd just seemed to be immune.

"He's never gotten it," Frankie said with a grumpy frown and a shrug. "Even when we were kids. He could roll in the stuff and not get a single spot on him."

Boyd gave a lopsided and apologetic grin.

"Fine," Michael groaned, fighting not to dig his nails into his inflamed flesh, "The two of you set up camp."

Hannah stood, braced her hands on the slight swell of her hips and looked around, as though she were searching for something. Her brows knit together, and she tugged at Michael's arm. "What?" He asked tiredly.

She tugged again, her eyes and her whole body leaning in one direction. It seemed quite clear that she wanted him to follow her somewhere. He was feeling tired, itchy and irritated, but he climbed back to his feet. She began limping away from the campsite, her eyes pasted to the ground, searching for something. "Hannah, we've wandered quite far from the other's," Michael said impatiently. He just wanted to sit, scratch, and maybe see if he couldn't get some sleep, despite his itching legs. He took her hand and tried to gently pull her back in the direction of the camp.

She growled at him, and kept pressing forward. "Hannah look, I'm not sure what you are after out here, but-"

All of a sudden she let out a happy-sounding squeal, and forgetting about her injured leg, crashed through some underbrush to what turned out to be the edge of a rural cemetery. "Hannah! This is not safe! This is a cemetery, there will be a road somewhere near-by and ---"

Hannah was, of course, not listening. She had squatted down and was picking handfulls of some kind of plant. It was pale green, with oval, slightly toothed leaves, and juicy looking stems. She filled both hands full, and then passed them to Michael so she could collect more of the young plant. Michael looked at the greens in his hands. "This is it? You dragged me all the way out here for a weed?"

She grunted in response, and showed him how to make a basket with the front of his shirt, and dumped even more plants into his shirt. When she had loaded him up with as much as he could carry, she started piling more into her own shirt. Michael was growing curious now. He didn't know anything about plants. If he had, he might not have lead them straight into the middle of a poison ivy patch last night. Hannah however, had been living as a rogue since she was a little girl. She used to know enough about plants and herbs to concoct her own scent-masking formula. When she had gathered more than she could carry, she started limping back in the direction of the camp. Michael would have offered to carry her, but there was no way he could carry all the weeds she had given him and hold her at the same time. She didn't seem to mind though. Her face seemed eager, and almost happy.

They arrived back into camp, where everyone seemed to be in a foul mood. Frankie had mixed up mud and attempted to smear that on his itching legs. Caroline had wet one of her spare shirts and was trying to use it as a cold compress. Lonnie was just itching and swearing. Sarah and Boyd were stuck doing extra work, so they were also looking grumpy as they built a fire and prepared food.

"Where have you two love-birds been?" Sarah asked, with a cold glance at the two of them. "What's that?" she asked, frowning at the herbs.

Michael could only shrug, because he didn't know, and Hannah acted like she didn't hear, or at least didn't understand the question. She sat down with her pile of small plants, took a small rock and a piece of bark, and began to smash the plants into a juicy green pulp.

She gestured Michael to come closer. He hesitated only a moment before he came and stood before her. He had slipped off his shoes and now stood barefoot, with swollen, blistering legs. It seemed the more time passed, the more blisters were erupting from his inflamed skin.

She used her fingers to scoop up the slimy mess of pounded plants and smeared it across his shin bones. Immediately, Michael felt cooling relief. Her small, skillful fingers smoothed the plant poultice all over his legs. The other wolves in the camp were watching with keen interest.

"Well?" Caroline asked, "Is it helping?"

Michael gave a sigh of relief. "Yeah, yeah its working.... it cools it right off, and the itching is a lot less."

The others rushed forward, eager to try the remedy. They put their legs in front of Hannah, but she scrambled back with a low growl. She ducked behind Michael's legs and watched the others warily. "Guys, I don't think she wants to touch you. You'll have to put it on yourselves." Secretly he felt proud of the fact that she was willing to touch him, and only him. He was already incredibly jealous over her, and he didn't want her touching any one else, not even to put medicine on their legs. The others didn't care who put the goop on them, they were just happy to find some relief.

"Hey, that was pretty awesome," Michael smiled down at his tiny mate. "You seem to be remembering a lot of things now."