The Blackfoot Werewolf Reservation was abuzz with excitement about the upcoming hierarchy trials. Never before had I heard or seen so much activity outside of my suite. Compound staff walked to and fro, setting up booths for the trials. Armed guards stood sentry at the main gate while the staff carried their supplies inside of the reservation.
There couldn't possibly be a better time to mount a mass escape. It was a treacherous thought though, and one I definitely would not be bringing to the attention of the werewolves. Besides, the open gates were so tempting that I imagined someone had to have tried it before.
Promptly at ten o'clock in the morning, I was required to go to the recreation room to have my weight taken. It seemed like a funny thing to have to do for the trials, but I was sure that it would factor in somehow. Thankfully, they weighed us behind a room divider so that the other contestants couldn't see our weight.
Most of the female werewolves were fit. While I had lost some weight since being inside of the reservation, I still felt that I had a little more padding then a lot of them. Hopefully, it wouldn't work against me.
I half expected Chris to show up on my doorstep before the trials, letting his social anxiety take over and needing me by his side for support, but he never came. Surprisingly, neither did Devon. The hierarchy trials must be keeping everything occupied. Since it was considered a holiday for the werewolves, most of them had it off of work. Perhaps even Devon managed to escape his duty of being my guide for the day.
At eleven, we were all to gather in the cafeteria for the first part of the trials, the intelligence portion. We were seated on the picnic benches in rows, as evenly spaced out as possible. While the trials were supposed to be a fun time for the werewolves, it seemed that the compound staff were taking it very seriously. Several of them walked around, monitoring the room for cheaters.
A small stack of stapled together papers were handed out to each of us with cheap ball point pens. We weren't allowed to begin writing until the clock struck exactly eleven thirty. At twelve thirty, we were to put down our pens. Anyone still writing would be immediately disqualified.
Like hawks, we all stared at the main clock that hung above the food line. With a couple of minutes left, my eyes darted around to look for the people that I knew. Chris looked across the room at me, and I could tell that he wasn't very thrilled about this portion of the trials. Tension was etched plainly on his tanned face. Devon seemed more than eager to start, wiggling in his seat with overwhelming excited energy. Emmett and Rick looked cool and calm, like they had done this dozens of times before, which they probably had. Even Margaret and Terry looked relaxed, whispering to each other back and forth with one eye on the clock.
And then it was go time. As fast as lightning, I flipped over my stack of papers to reveal the list of questions. When my eyes flitted across the first one, my lips curled into a smile. Oh yeah, I had this part of the trials in the bag.
The test was comprised of fifty questions, half of them math related, the other half reading and writing related. Both were my strengths in college. Thank God there hadn't been any history or science on there, or I might have been sweating.
I finished my test in forty-three minutes and slid it to the end of the table to be collected by the compound staff. Once I was done, I stepped back near the guards to take a few pictures of the werewolves that were still testing. It would make a good photograph for my journalism piece.
That was the only bad thing about me actually participating in the trials instead of just watching them. My time had to be split between taking part in the games and doing my actual job, which was to document them. It made things a little stressful and my day a bit more hectic than it should have been, but who was I to refuse the offer
Jo Willow, Sharon Gurley-Headley