My beloved can transform

"Steve, we're going inside. You stay and play with your sister in the yard for a little while longer, then it's time for bed. Don't forget you have to report to your new school tomorrow."

After the Whites dropped their instructions and left, eleven-year-old Steve responded with a distracted "Hmm," showing no intention of moving. It was clear he wasn't the least bit worried about starting at a new school tomorrow. Steve was a prodigy, his thoughts often far beyond his years, something few could understand-least of all his five-years-younger sister, Elsa.

Although, she always tried very hard to enter his world.

Like right now, the six-year-old girl was trying to squeeze in front of her brother to see what he was so intently studying in the damp, muddy hole.

"Elsa."

The little girl made a sound of acknowledgment without turning her head.

"You're in my way." Steve was always direct.

"I know." Knowing it and doing something about it were two different things; she didn't move. "But if I don't, I can't see what you're doing. You never tell me what you're thinking or what you're up to..."

"And what if I did?" Steve said dismissively. "You wouldn't understand anyway."

"How do you know I wouldn't if you never try?" Elsa persisted stubbornly. "You could try! I'm not moving. Stop acting like I'm an idiot."

"You're not an idiot, but you are a scaredy-cat." His tone remained calm and unhurried. "It's fine if you block my view. I'm just worried that if a skeletal claw or a bloody tongue suddenly shoots out of that hole, I might not be able to save you in time."

The little girl shrieked, scrambling backward and falling onto the ground. It took her a moment to realize she'd been tricked.

"Bad brother! You scared me again!" She pouted, her eyes welling up with tears.

"I didn't." He looked expressionlessly at his sister's tears. This was one reason he didn't like playing with her-girls were always being bossy, trying to gain advantage, and turning on the waterworks at the drop of a hat. So tedious. "You're just too easily scared."

The two siblings parted ways-the brother successfully got rid of his little shadow, and the sister swore for what felt like the hundredth time that she would never, ever speak to her horrible brother again.

Brushing the dirt off her little white dress, Elsa stuck her tongue out at her brother and turned to leave. It was fine. Without him, she could still have fun by herself.

That's what she said, but the six-year-old knew deep down she didn't mean it.

Really, she didn't mean it at all.

For miles around, she didn't have a single friend. The only people she could talk to were her family.

Steve was her only playmate. That's why, even after countless cold shoulders from him, she still doggedly pestered him.

Their father, Dennis, had taken a position as the General Manager for the Rome division of a well-known international Italian wine company. That's why the family had emigrated from Asia to Italy.

Six-year-old Elsa naturally didn't understand the nuances of good or bad wine, nor did she grasp what the people in this new country cared about.

All she knew was that after moving here, her childhood had turned from bright to gloomy. Her little playmates had vanished overnight.

Before immigrating, Dennis had tried to hire tutors to help the two children with the language barrier, but the time was short, and for little Elsa, it was hardly effective.

Learning was never a problem for Steve. Within three months, the prodigy boy was already proficiently using multiple languages.

Poor Elsa, still not fully fluent in her native tongue, now had to face a new language. Not being able to speak or understand plunged her into frustration, making her subconsciously resist learning and socializing. She preferred to live in her own little world.

That's why she constantly clung to her brother. That's why she magnanimously forgave him after being slighted. Because in this foreign land, she was lonely.

Really, very lonely.

With a rustling sound, Elsa, still sulking, pushed open the small gate and left home. Even if she was going to forgive her brother, she needed a cooling-off period to show her resolve. But in less than three minutes, the little girl came running back, not just returned, but with eyes shining with excitement. All the anger from moments ago had completely vanished.

She ran back to her brother, all grievances forgotten.

"Steve! Look what I found under the tree outside the gate!" She proudly presented her treasure. "A puppy!"

"A puppy?!"

Steve turned his attention to his sister. He frowned, using two fingers to pick up the strange little creature from her arms-a creature with beautiful golden-brown short fur and a pair of blue eyes.

The little thing bared its tiny fangs and growled at him. It clearly didn't like him.

"Elsa, put it back." Steve narrowed his eyes.

"Why?"

As if afraid her treasure would be taken, Elsa hurriedly snatched it back from her brother.

"I found it! I'll beg Mom to let me keep it. Our yard is so big, keeping a little dog is no problem. I'll bathe it, feed it, let it sleep with me. It can play house with me, hide-and-seek, frisbee..." She chattered on, outlining the future she'd already envisioned for herself and the little creature.

He interrupted her slowly. "Elsa, I'm telling you to put it back because it's not a puppy. It's a wolf. A wolf cub whose teeth aren't even fully grown yet."

"Steve, you're wrong. It's not. It's just a very ordinary, very good little dog."

"Look closer, little sister."

Steve used his finger to guide his sister's gaze over the little creature's features.

"Its ears are small and pointed, its tail hangs down, its legs are a bit longer than a regular dog's, and its little fangs," he concluded, looking at his sister, "In short, it's a wolf. A wild wolf completely unsuitable for being kept as a pet. And besides..."

He sniffed towards the little creature and then laughed. "It's a little wolf that likes its drink. Look at it, reeking of wine. Probably lured here by the scent of our family's wine."

"I don't care how it got here, and I don't care if it's a wolf or a dog," Elsa clutched the wolf cub tightly to her chest, "It's mine."

Steve fell silent, studying his sister and the little creature held tightly in her arms-who wasn't struggling but seemed to be blushing. The cub's golden-brown fur made the two red patches on its cheeks even more obvious.

A blushing wolf cub? Now that was peculiar. He found it amusing.

"Suit yourself, Elsa. I never like interfering with others' choices. But don't say I didn't warn you. A wolf's nature is a very cruel thing. Bloodthirsty, carnivorous, and often fiercely hungry. You can hold it, but don't hold it too tight. Be careful..." his voice softened with a hint of threat, "...that a cool breeze doesn't suddenly blow through your chest because it accidentally bites a hole clean through you, front to back."

Elsa steadied herself, suppressing a shriek.

"You can't scare me, brother. I'll train it well, I won't let it bite anyone." She declared as if taking an oath. "I'll find a way to make it behave."

"Behave?" Steve chuckled. "Elsa, I look forward to your success. But before you succeed, be careful it doesn't eat you first."

"It won't."

"This little wolf of unknown origin," he glanced casually at the little girl and the wolf cub, "is blushing right now. If its blush isn't from lack of oxygen, then it means it likes being hugged by a girl. And it blushes too. So, whether it will eat you or not remains to be seen."

"You're talking nonsense again."

"I'm not." He lifted the beautiful golden wild wolf cub from his sister's arms, examining it while making appreciative noises. "Indeed, a little male wolf. No wonder it can't resist my beautiful sister. However," he laughed at the little creature, whose limbs were pinned helplessly, "currently, its... weapon... is still rather petite. It seems it has the intention but lacks the means to commit the crime."

A snarl accompanied the wolf cub twisting its head to snap at Steve. He easily dodged it, unperturbed.

"Not bad, Elsa! Your little wolf has spirit. Whether it understands or not, it certainly reacts strongly to insults against its pride."

"Stop teasing it, give it back, brother! It's really angry!" Elsa, straining on her tiptoes but still unable to reach, looked frantic.

He narrowed his eyes at his slightly angry sister. "You really want to keep it?"

"Really!" She nodded so vigorously it was almost a ninety-degree bow. "Starting tomorrow, even you will be going to school. Here, besides Mom, I have no playmates and no one to talk to. It will be my first friend in Italy."

"Friend?" Steve gave a lazy laugh. "With your broken English or your three phrases of Italian?"

"Who says you can only communicate with Italian animals using those two languages?" Elsa's face flushed red with indignation.

"You'll teach it your mother tongue to communicate?"

She nodded emphatically.

"Interesting!" He handed the wolf cub back to his sister. "Remember to teach it Italian traffic signs, so that when you take it out someday and it can't understand anything, you'll only be left to collect its corpse."

"Brother, I hate it when you curse it like that," Elsa stuck her tongue out at her brother. "It will live to be a hundred! It'll still be here after you're dead!"

"Throw away your brother for a wolf?" Steve grinned. "Elsa, you're only six, don't be so fickle. You want to keep it, so what's its name?"

"Name?" She pondered. "Its fur is golden, like a lion, so let's call it..."

"Simba?" He frowned.

"Yes! Yes!" She clapped her hands excitedly. "Let's call it Simba! Brother, don't you think it's a good name?"

"Good, very good," he shrugged indifferently, stretching as he prepared to go back inside. "Elsa, time for bed."

"I know." Elsa buried her face in the little golden wolf's soft fur, her muffled voice almost lost in the yellow fluff.

Turning slightly, Steve glanced at the wolf cub, who was watching him warily from his sister's arms. He shrugged and took the lead, strolling back into the house.

He never liked being a killjoy. And it was clear that right now, both the little girl and the little wolf had made it plain they didn't need this 'Steve' anymore.

"Simba, listen to me. A little wolf that smells nice will have more people like it!"

After a struggle, Elsa finally managed to press Simba into the water. Truth be told, there were several moments when the wolf cub had the chance to bite its way free from the little girl's grasp and escape. But it didn't.

It clearly didn't want the little girl to bathe it, but it was even more unwilling to bite or scratch her.

Soon, a little wolf's head emerged from the bubble-filled tub-a little wolf that looked very unhappy but had resigned itself to its fate.

Ignoring the wolf's displeasure, Elsa carefully rinsed her beloved pet with the showerhead, then wrapped it in a fluffy white towel. After drying it, she cradled the wolf cub in her arms like a baby, pressing her clean, pretty little face warmly against the sullen-looking wolf.

"Simba, now you smell wonderful! This way you can sleep with me. It's too late tonight. Tomorrow morning, I'll ask Mom and Dad if I can keep you. When you're a bit bigger, I'll build you a little house in the yard. But until then, you'll sleep with me."

Carrying the wolf cub on tiptoe into her room, she placed it on her small bed, moving aside the Barbie doll that usually slept with her.

"Simba is here, Barbie, you're demoted!" Elsa smiled sweetly at the golden wolf cub. "Simba, from now on, you are the most important to me! This is great, so great. Starting tomorrow, I won't be all alone anymore."

Next, she took off her clothes in front of the wolf cub and put on her little nightgown.

"Hey! Simba!" She giggled, playfully tapping the wolf cub's cheek, which was turned away and flushed red. "Brother wasn't kidding! You really are a blushing little wolf!"

The wolf cub lowered its head, as if in reflection or perhaps disdain.

"Enough playing, Simba. Let's sleep."

Elsa let out a soft, delicate yawn. The little girl's features were exquisite, like a living doll. She climbed onto the bed, knelt, said her prayers to the moon and God, then crawled under the covers with the wolf cub. Lying down, she blinked her large, utterly innocent eyes at it.

"Goodnight, my dear Simba. Tomorrow! Tomorrow is a new beginning for both of us!"

A six-year-old's mind holds no complex thoughts. Within seconds, Elsa was emitting soft, even snores.

Hearing the sound, the wolf cub raised its head and slowly extricated itself from under the covers.

The little girl had forgotten to close the window before sleep. Gentle moonlight silvered the room.

Bathed in moonlight, the beautiful golden-furred wolf cub suddenly opened its mouth and leaned over the sleeping Elsa. It extended a small, pink tongue and licked the soft, lovely little face.

After this kiss-like action, it jumped onto the windowsill.

It looked back once more at the sleeping Elsa, then leaped lightly out the window, back into the night.

The golden wolf cub was gone.

"Oh, heavens! Can someone please tell me where my beloved son is?"

In Edward Folger's house, his distraught wife, Vivian, was weeping softly.

"It's alright, Vivian." Donald let out a boozy hiccup before continuing. "Everyone knows the Folger family's capabilities. Who would dare kidnap my precious grandson?"

"Maybe no one kidnapped him. I'm afraid..." Edward grumbled, "...he ran away from home. Can't blame Jack. With a mother who's always scatterbrained and turns into a swan when she gets angry, where even dinner isn't peaceful... if I were him, I'd want to run away too."

"Edward Folger!" Vivian's dark, curly hair seemed to stand on end, her voice rising an octave, poised for another transformation. "What are you saying?"

"I said-"

Anger over his missing only son made Edward lose control. The scathing words were on the tip of his tongue when suddenly, all three of them heard a thud against the door.

"Stop arguing! It must be Jack!"

Donald got up, went to the door, and turned the knob.

"See, I told you the boy was fine. You parents always worry too much..."

His words stuck in his throat. He opened the door. Outside wasn't his precious grandson, but...

"A little yellow dog?!"

Donald scratched the few remaining hairs on his head. "What's going on? Edward, since when did you get a dog?"

"I didn't, Dad."

Edward replied respectfully, his face full of confusion. He stared wide-eyed as the little golden-furred creature, ignoring the three stunned adults, strode into the house with its head held high, looking as comfortable as if it were its own home. It even gave a low growl at Donald, as if highly displeased with being called a dog.

"Oh my god! It's Jack! It's my darling, my precious Jack!"

Vivian shrieked and rushed to the little golden creature's side.

"Look at its blue eyes! Only my little darling has such beautiful blue eyes! Believe me, I'm his mother, I can't be wrong."

"My little Jack... he transformed?"

Edward also knelt beside the little creature, looking at the golden fur on his son's body with reverent awe. "Oh, in the name of the Sacred Therianthrope! Look at him, Dad! You need to change your reading glasses! He's not a dog. My son, Edward Folger's son-" his voice was excited, "-is a wolf!"

"A wolf?" Donald started cleaning his glasses. He crouched down, looking at the golden wolf cub with the same reverent and apologetic expression as his son. "Yes, yes! It's just that Jack is still small, I misjudged. It's fine. When he's bigger, he'll become a majestic, imposing big wolf. Not like us, just poor little field mice, silly owls, and timid koalas."

"And..." Edward snorted, lowering his voice, "...a white swan with nothing but a pecking attitude."

Vivian had no time to glare at her husband, as her mind was completely occupied by the fact of her son's transformation.

"Yes!" Her eyes shone with starlight. "When he grows up, my baby will be a great werewolf! In the recorded history of our Therianthrope race, those who can transform into wolves mostly hold important places in history. If not an emperor, then a great general whose name shakes the age..."

The three grew more and more excited, seemingly having already foreseen a brilliant future for the little golden wolf.

In a moment when no one was paying attention, the little golden wolf pushed away the hands around it and quietly padded into the study.