It was summer. School was not far away. For James, it would be his freshman year at the local high school. At age fourteen, James was tall with broad shoulders and a strong, angular jaw. He had grown up helping his father set up shows and tours, which mostly involved menial tasks like hauling boxes back and forth building muscle from a young age.
   Presently, he was outside walking the streets. His mind was on a girl he had seen the other day. She had been at the high school, registering for her freshman year. Just like him. Something about her had caught his attention, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe it was the glasses.
   He turned a corner, heading to the book store to pick up a book for his older sister, Violet. He was almost at the door when he heard running feet behind him.
   He turned in time to see a blue and tan blur streak past him, followed by six boys on BMX bikes in hot pursuit. The group flew down the street, scattering pedestrians and kicking up dust. Whoever the runner was, he looked as if he had stolen something. James scratched the back of his russet-haired head, wondering what on earth the runner could have taken to provoke a gang of hoodlums to chase him like that.
   He decided to forget about it, and entered the store. But that runner's speed was something he couldn't forget. Could he be another one? Anything was possible, James supposed.
~~~
   As it turned out, the runner had stolen something. But it was something that, in his mind, wasn't the gang's to begin with. He ran and ran, easily outpacing the six on the bikes. He had been able to run at inhuman speeds ever since eighth grade when he had had an odd encounter with a gray wolf. At the moment, despite the fact that he was going to be in serious danger if he were caught, he was deliberately going just fast enough to be out of the reach of the wannabe hood-rats chasing him.
   "Get back here with that! I'm gonna kick your ass when we get a hold of you, punk!" called the lead biker.
   The runner called back. "I've got a name, you know! And it's not 'punk!'" Incidentally, his name was Kyran. Aged fifteen, he was tall and lean, with dirty blond hair that was, at the moment, flying straight back off his forehead. Apart from stealing from poser gangsters, he had a smart mouth that he could not fully control and often got him in trouble.
   One of the bikers picked up speed, gaining on Kyran. He pulled something out of his belt and held it ready, still gaining. Kyran didn't seem to notice. He was still running under the impression that all six boys were right where he left them. That was when the tire iron hit him in the back of the head. He was out cold before he hit the ground.
   He skidded several feet, scraping his shoulder and back against the pavement. The item he had stolen from the bikers flew from his left hand, shining in the July sun before hitting the concrete as well. The six on bikes circled the fallen teenager like vultures in obscenely baggy pants. One picked up the tire iron he had thrown. The leader rolled Kyran over with a foot, looking down at him. He picked up the shining object and put it back in his pocket.
   "Didn't I tell you? Didn't I tell you that you'd be sorry for stealing this? Well, you won't be giving this to any girl now, will you?" The boy spat. "Come on."
~~~
   Kyran woke about an hour later. The sun was still high in the sky and he blinked as he opened his eyes, temporarily blinded. Then everything came into focus. There was a crowd around him, all staring down.
   "He's awake," someone said. "You ok, kid?"
   "I'm fine. Don't worry about it." He rolled backwards onto his feet and stood up.
   "Hey! Should you be-"
   "I said, don't worry about it." He looked sideways at the man staring at him. There was a small noise, like cloth whipping in the wind, and Kyran was gone. The crowd looked around, now in an uproar. From a block down the street, Kyran looked back at them.
~~~
   James had just walked out of the book store when he bumped into someone.
   "Sorry," the person said. James raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"
   "You know you've got a huge scrape on your arm, right?" James pointed at the red, raw wound on the boy's arm.
   Kyran looked down. Then back at James. "Yeah? And?" He started walking away. James followed.
   "You should probably get that looked at."
   "Don't worry about it. It'll be fine. I've had much worse, trust me."
   "Really?" James poked the flesh.
   "Ouch!"
   "Steal from gangs often, do you?"
   "I try not to make a habit of it."
   "I would. Whatever you took it probably wasn't theirs to begin with. What was it, anyway?"
   "What's it to you?"
   "I'm just curious. Come on. Cash? Drugs? Weapons?"
   "Three strikes."
   "Well what was it then?"
   "It was-" Kyran stopped walking abruptly. He had spotted something down the road. A few bikes were leaned up against a tree on the edge of the river that ran through town. A large bridge crossed the river not twenty feet from the parked BMX's.
   James was paying attention now, too. He looked over at Kyran whose eyes were closed, listening intently. James could sense something different about him. Something feral.
   "You can't hear them from this far away, can you?"
   Kyran's eyes snapped open. "Can you?"
   The gang was forgotten now. "You're one of them. I can tell."
   "You can tell? Then you're one, too. No one can sense it if they aren't one."
   "Yeah, I'm one. I'm the cougar."
   "Wolf." They stood there in silence for a minute. The tension was incredible, as if each boy's creature was just under the surface, growling, itching to be let loose.
   Let me at the damn canine. Come on. I haven't seen the wolf spirit for a long time. I want to fight him. LET ME OUT!
   The cougar, is it? I remember the last time we met. That was the most fun I'd had in a few hundred years. I can tell he wants to go. Well I'm ready. Try it, pussy cat. Try it.
   The air around them shimmered. Looking at each other, it appeared as if the face of the creatures were outlined in the air behind them. The cougar was snarling, fangs bared, exuding a red and gold aura. The wolf's ears were laid flat and one lip was raised. A cool silver blue emanated from it.
   "No!" they yelled simultaneously. People passing on the street looked at them strangely. Both were sweating from the effort of keeping the animals from taking over. Panting, they got off the street and hid down an alley, trying to calm down.
   "Never had trouble controlling it before."
   "Same here. Weird." They sat down, leaning against the brick wall. There was silence for a few minutes as they caught their breath.
   James finally spoke. "I don't know your name."
   "Kyran. Mind if I guess yours?"
   "Sure."
   Kyran studied him for a second. "Hmm. You look like a...something with a 'j'. Jim?"
   "James." He looked somewhat stonily back at Kyran, who held up his hands.
   "Pardon me. Strong name, James. I take it you hate being called Jim, then."
   "Yes." James quickly changed the subject. "You gonna tell me what you stole, or what?"
   "It's a necklace. It's got kind of a gliding bird pendant. Rhinestone for the eye." Kyran closed his eyes, remembering how he stole the necklace right from under the leader's nose. Then he came back to himself.
   "You were risking serious bodily harm for a necklace!?" James had to restrain himself from whacking Kyran upside the head.
   "Calm down. Jeez, man. It is kinda rough though. I was going to fix it up to sell. Or maybe I'll end up giving to someone."
   "Who?"
   "Dunno. I travel with my dad too much to ever settle on anyone. The only girl I really know is my mom, and she died a few years back. Illness."
   "Sorry to hear that. My mom's gone, too. Hit and run."
   "Wow. I'm sorry."
   "Nah. We're both over our losses by now, right?"
   "Right."
   "So." James stood up.
   "So...what?"
   "So, let's go get this necklace."
   Kyran blinked. "Not two minutes ago you were on my case for trying to steal it and getting hurt. Now you want to help me get it back? I know we're teenagers, but that's one weird mood swing."
   "Shut up and let's get your necklace. Damn romantic fool."