My Ottawa Eagle

— Could I have a smoked meat sandwich and poutine, please?

She looks at me sideways, unhappy with my dodge, but finally gives up after taking another look at the hunters. Obviously, they know each other. She answers in a dry tone.

— I'll get it to you right away. With water?

— That would be perfect.

She turns not without a suspicious glance in my direction. Her comments, supported by the reason I'm here, have drawn more than adequate attention from the hunters. They seem nervous and squinting, and the waitress is probably trying to identify a threat to them. The animal welfare kind of thing. I stop staring at them when my plate arrives. I don't want to get into trouble, that's not why I'm here, but I make a mental note to warn the authorities without fail.

I take advantage of my meal to think of my companion. I wonder what she looks like. I have no preference for her looks. I don't have one type of girl that attracts me more than another, as long as she's natural and I'm confident. I'm sure the spirits have reserved the perfect woman for me. I'm more demanding about character, though. Isabelle is an adorable woman and I appreciate her a lot, but she is too shy and reserved for my taste. I would like a strong woman with a strong character who can stand up to me and who doesn't hesitate to make her own choices without fear of consequences. My animal is a predator and is far from being tamed. He and I need a companion who tells us what she thinks, who takes the initiative, and who is not afraid to put us in our place when we need her. I swallowed my meal in one go without even noticing it, so much my thoughts were monopolized by my soul mate, as often. I pay and go home right away to go to bed. I'm getting tired and a restful sleep will allow me to leave tomorrow morning, without wasting any more time.

There is a lot of fog around me. It's hard to make out anything in this mash. I'll have to transform; my vision will be much better and the weather won't bother me above the clouds any more. Only I can't do it. I'm stuck in my man's body. Something's holding me down, motionless. I can't move an inch; I can't move an inch. Even my head is stuck in an unnatural position, looking upwards, so that I can't even see my body, only the treetops and a blue sky clear of clouds. Suddenly I hear a voice. A bewitching voice that speaks to me with such affection. I guess a figure nearby, but I can't make out its features. It has to be her. The right person for me is there. She tells me to stay calm, that she will take care of me. It's nice to hear her say that she's going to take care of me after all these years of taking care of others, but the truth is, it's my job to take care of my wife. Unfortunately, I sense a threat looming around us. Why am I paralyzed? A mere bystander? It's as if I'm outside my body, without seeing myself. And why is my bride a shadow? I must defend my wife, it's my duty. I'm an Ottawa warrior and a policeman, I'm fit to protect her, as long as my body responds to me. Danger is closing in, sneaky. And suddenly everything turns red in front of my eyes, darkening my vision and making it useless. Blood, blood spreads all around me and my love starts to move away, disappearing from my field of vision. No. There's no way I'm losing my half, not now, not when I've just found it. I'm struggling with my torpor. I'm fighting my own body to move; I have to save it.

I'm so fidgety I end up... falling out of bed. A dream, it was just a dream. No, not just a dream. A warning message from the spirits. I must hurry. My companion is in great danger. I must find her and quickly if I don't want this nightmare to become reality. The alarm clock on the bedside table reads six thirty and I can guess the first rays of the sun through the gaps in the shutters. It's impossible to transform myself discreetly from here to take flight. This is the most important rule of my tribe, no one must know of our powers outside the clans. A wild animal coming out of a hotel room would be a mess.

I'm not wasting a second. I throw my stuff in the trunk of my car, go through the hotel reception to return the keys and pick up, thanks to the concierge, a vital piece of information: the address of a quiet place. I get back behind the wheel and head for the Widdifield Forest indicated by the receptionist, only a few kilometers away.

I leave my vehicle on a small path along the large fir trees. Everything is quiet, no hikers or campers in sight, as the hotel employee assured me. It's just perfect. I undress out of sight, turn into a spray of sparks and gain height. My beast is delighted to spread its wings and feel the wind on its head and along its plumage. However, it is not enjoying this moment of freedom as usual. No circle on the spot to spot prey, no stake dive to the ground to get an adrenaline rush. We hunt for a bigger booty, the biggest of treasures. Our companion is waiting for us at Lake Kipawa. She needs us. Lake Kipawa is huge, over three hundred square kilometers, and stretches across five different townships. Finding my soul mate in the middle of such a vast territory will be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Fortunately, my bird of prey is used to spot a little mouse in the middle of a forest. His sight is the best in the animal kingdom. So my animal runs like an arrow towards the body of water a hundred kilometers southeast of my position, on the lookout for the slightest sign of my companion's presence.

 

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