Introduction to Werewolves

Today I am going to post my first excerpt of a story I wrote for my EN 380 class (Writing For Young Adults) and if someone wants to write feedback, that would be nice... or any other comment. I haven't gotten beyond a second draft because of time constraints but having more of a direction would help! The story still does not have a name so anything like that would be useful as well. It's just the first part.

Introduction to Werewolves

The tips of my fingers began to itch. Again. It was growing more common in the past months, and though rubbing them against my jeans had used to work, it was now a useless venture. I didn’t even try to. The cooling autumn air around me did as much as it could for the itching, and would have done more, if it were on the surface. However, it was like a thousand skittering spiders inside my body, ready to burst out.
    It was a rather horrific image and, thinking back on it, I realized it would be appropriate to say my change would be much like that.
    I rounded the corner of the long, barren street, and spotted my house near the end. We didn’t have many neighbors and it was how my parents preferred it. From what I had been told, they had lived in an apartment as newlyweds and the strife they had shared with the other tenants had made them seek a home far from others.
    And I didn’t really mind. Pine trees surrounded the house, burying the dark log home in a thick scent of forest that was rather rare in this area. Iona was situated in a plain that was surrounded by the white-capped Teton Mountains that were visible in the distance no matter where you stood. In between those mountains and us was nothing but plains and hills, houses and power lines the only features that dotted the landscape. Other than cows. There are a lot of cows in Idaho.
    I stopped at the end of the driveway. I just stood there for a long moment, digesting the scene before me and allowing my developing senses to envelope me. There were more than two cars in the driveway. My father’s truck peeked out from the garage and my mother’s car was just behind it. If seeing my mother’s car wasn’t unusual enough in the late afternoon, seeing a Fish and Game vehicle as well as a new BMW beside it was even more unsettling. It was the middle of Autumn. There was no pack meeting until Thanksgiving. Even if there had been, I would have known about it. With my changes coming so soon, I was being assimilated into the actual organization of the wolves among the pack.
    Making my way up the porch, I struggled against my nature to be more cautious. This was my home… even with the uncanny feeling that something was undoubtedly wrong, I shouldn’t have felt unsafe. So I opened the door and I was assaulted by a scent.
    Not just any smell. It was that of a female.
    The past months in school had been difficult for me in this regard. Since the fairs had ended and the air had cooled, all of my normal senses had gone into overdrive. I had never been particularly interested in girls at my age and they had shown just as little interest in me but that had all changed. When I had walked into school that first day, all of a sudden I had noticed the length of their skirts, the tightness of their jeans… and in return I saw some of them stare back. In middle school I had always been tall but never toned as my young body was still adjusting but as my wolf was breaching the surface, those things smoothed out. There were few in my grade that thought I was fourteen years old.
    I was too articulate to many of these rednecks to be fourteen.
    The scent of the female I had in my consciousness was one I recognized. Cleo. I didn’t know her last name. It rolled off my tongue noiselessly as I was unable to hide my surprise at seeing her there. She was curled against my mom; her body was shivering and the heat of her fever prickled my skin. I didn’t have to ask what had happened. Ever since I had been a little boy, I knew what it meant if one of my kin bit someone. If it had been anything other than a bite, she would be at the hospital. They would be cooling her down so that she could break the fever. Instead, my mother was holding her, stroking her hair. Cleo whimpered and, in the back of my throat, I whimpered back.
    I couldn’t help it. I knew this girl. Perhaps not well but my second nature was definitely intrigued. He didn’t want her to be hurt. I didn’t want her to be hurt.
    I set my bag down by the couch and sat on the arm.
    “We don’t know if she’s going to live.”
    I turned to the voice- my dad standing against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, amber eyes fixed upon the girl. His nostrils were flared, detecting the scent of infection in the air far easier than I could. It wasn’t obvious but there was a hint of disgust in the curl of the edges of his lips.
    “We found her this morning.”
    We I mouthed.
    “Brian and I.”
    I nodded. The Fish and game vehicle belonged to Brian and Nadia yet I did not see them here nor did I smell them.
    “Where’d they go?” I asked. I was staring at him even if he wasn’t affording me the same attention.
    “They’re looking for the rogue.” He paused, blinked and then turned his gaze to me. “The only reason we even found her is that Brian got a call from one of her neighbors that a wolf had been spotted.”
    “He was changed? In broad daylight?”
    They were stupid questions and the answers were obvious but I couldn’t help but blurt them out. They pretty much came before I had even realized they had formulated in my mind. Perhaps it was because my father had drilled me from day one to never underestimate rogues that entered our territory. They are smart, he would say, They know how to dissemble a pack. That the rogue that had bitten Cleo was so careless stumped me.
    “Crowe.” My father nodded towards the open basement door. I followed him downstairs.