The Mating Run by Leeka

Months Before The Mating Run

“I don’t see the point of it, Alina.”

As we jog in the morning, Ettie completely brushes off the suggestion I make, and I let out a sigh of frustration.

For the past few days, I’ve been considering registration, but the thought of going through it alone is making me apprehensive. It would be a good opportunity for Ettie to participate, especially since we’re around the same age.

The High Council Elders will choose a mate for her in two years if she doesn’t take matters into her own hands.

“You’re not seriously gonna let those decrepit old farts decide your fate for you, right, Ettie?”

“They must be experts at this. Besides, my legs aren’t cut out for it. Did ya see how quick those Hunters run? Climbing trees and swimming aren’t my thing. Alina, I’ll die out there, you know it.”

“You’re never gonna survive with that negative attitude.”

Ettie bends over, hands on her knees, huffing and puffing as she tries to catch her breath, sweat pouring down her face. Despite doing morning jogs for ages, Ettie still complains about the steep hill at the halfway point. There are times when I suspect she’s not being honest about her weariness, possibly to avoid our early morning jogs, given her lazy tendencies.

“If you want me to, I can support you from the stands. I’ll have a big sign ready with your name on it for when you finally get mated.”

Ettie’s answer is predictable, so I grumble under my breath, not disappointed in the slightest.

Though I can’t make her do anything, I hope she won’t blame me if the High Council Elders select an ugly mate for her. Once I become a Hider, I have faith that I will be found by only the best, and I will have the power to choose.

Every year, the Springcrest Pack celebrates the Mating Run, a tradition that dates back generations.

Those aged 18-25 have the opportunity to register and find their mates each year. The celebration is meant for bonding and matches, with plenty of weddings, yet everyone knows it’s nothing more than a giant unspoken orgy.

On the day of the event, contenders will be divided into two groups: Hiders and Hunters.

Those who don’t register for the Mating Run will have to rely on the High Council Elders to choose a

do make good pairings, but

a track record of creating strong matches, like my parents who

the Hunters who do the chasing,

comes to

are the ones who shine during interviews before the celebration, gathering the most support from the crowd. They’re the ones that endure the pre-trials and show great

it is the Hiders’

perfect hiding spot along the trail. Rather than relying on strength, Hiders highlight their fragility and sensuality in

so they often receive the most

as food and weapons become increasingly scarce with each passing day. With my height and frame being a disadvantage, I’ve been training myself to be a Hider, honing my skills in camouflage and

easier, they don’t have to worry about

just have to

shower as soon as I get

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of people with envelopes and folders are already

line, I can immediately predict who

a while

of vital signs, a psychological evaluation, and a personal interview. Although they go through the formalities, every member of the pack knows that when it comes to the trial, rules don’t

when I say anything – I mean

“Alina Mockett!”

called from the receptionist area, I stand up with

have been preparing for this

and make my way to the office with the ‘Clinic‘ sign, determined to face whatever lay ahead. While scribbling on a clipboard, my doctor, an elderly woman and member of the High Council Elders, scrutinizes me from head to toe. Before I could even hand her my envelope, she starts speaking

that you’re short,

Feeling self-conscious, I grimace.

me, the doctor taps her pen on the clipboard, sighing again. I stand as still as I can, hoping that the makeup I

on the shorter side, but we can add some makeup to make you