the clearing where the other stags were preparing the bonfire for the Litha celebration.
“You still celebrate Litha?” one of the wolves asked.
“Yeah. We keep all the traditions. Don’t you?”
The wolf shook his head, hair flopping around like long dog-ears. “We do Yule. That’s about it. Some of the pack actually celebrate human holidays like New Year’s Day or whatever.”
“Oh? That seems kind of strange.” Finley looked out over the clearing. The stone circle had been laid out in the center, and a large pile of branches and shrubs collected from the forest floor had been stacked in the middle of it. They would dance and sing around the circle, and the pregnant hinds along with Rory would be the special honored guests. How could they not celebrate the sun, summer, and the good things it brought them?
“I don’t know, but you’ve only known life here—protected. I thought it would have been a bleak and boring existence. I mean, I go everywhere and anywhere I want. You’re stuck here. I thought it would make me crazy, but it seems like...”
“It’s home.”
“Yeah.” The wolf seemed dreamy, lost in thought. “I could see having something like this.”
“Maybe the pack should get back to basics. The roots of our shared history.”
The wolf clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re right.”
Finley was lecturing the wolves on fundamentals? Was he anyone to be giving out advice? After all, he had just had sex with a... whatever Ferdinand was. He wasn’t a deer, but Finley didn’t much care. He loved Ferdinand, no matter what form he took—although Finley preferred human. His father hadn’t seemed so sure. What was he talking about with Ferdinand while Finley was out playing host? Would he warn Ferdinand off? He wouldn’t want them together, since Ferdinand wasn’t a deer. His worry made him miss the wolf’s comment. “Sorry, what?”
“I said I want to go. I want to see if it’s not too late to get a celebration together for Litha for the wolves. At least for the ones around who want to do it.”
“You’re welcome to come to our celebration.”
“No.” He shook again, reminding Finley of his canine heritage. “It’s better we’re not here. You won’t enjoy the celebration with us around.”
Finley tried to put up a protest, but he honestly couldn’t. “You’re right. But you should do something for your pack, even if it’s small.”
“Agreed.”
They shook hands when the wolves left. The two he’d shown around had seemed hopeful. Finley sent an early Litha prayer up that they weren’t merely spies. He didn’t think so. They seemed earnest enough.
Once night fell, the celebration began. Finley helped tie bells around the antlers of Rocco, Lotte, Ellas, and Rory. All the stags with pregnant hinds, except Rory, who was pregnant himself, would take the first few laps around the bonfire. “There you go, bro,” he said as he finished tying the last bell to Lotte’s tines. He had the smallest rack, smaller even than Finley’s, and had felt a bit awkward about it, but Finley reassured him that they were all family. They loved him no matter what. Lotte jerked his head around, jingling the bells.
Ferdinand walked up to them, dressed in Finley’s clothes—a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that looked big on Ferdinand’s smaller frame. It drove him a little nuts seeing Ferdinand in his clothes. He liked it entirely too much.
“Donner said we can shop later,” Ferdinand mumbled and tugged at the borrowed shirt.
“It’s okay.” Finley moved to put his arm around him, but Ferdinand pulled away. In fact, as the preparations continued, Ferdinand hovered at the edge of the clearing, seemingly avoiding Finley.
Donner poured accelerant over the wood. Isla wrapped strings of flowers around the necks and shoulders of the pregnant hinds. Everyone seemed to be ready, but Ferdinand still wouldn’t come any closer. He wouldn’t even look in Finley’s direction. Finley was determined to get to the bottom of that and stood to march over and fix things with Ferdinand when Donner grabbed his arm.
“Finley. I want you to beat the drum. You’re the prince, and it would honor us this year if you did it. Are you ready?” Donner nudged Finley toward the drum on the far side of the clearing. Tradition dictated that the festival began with the beating of the drum and the dance around the fire. Most of the herd would be in deer form until after that. When the men transformed back to human, they would toss a variety of things into the fire,