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.

overall health and performance leading up to the event. Those who don’t register for the Mating Run will

Elders do make good pairings, but they always acknowledged

of creating strong matches, like

who do the chasing,

comes to

be skilled Hunters. They 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 endurance, proving to the rest of the pack that they have the best

Hiders’ job to

least five hours to prepare before the game begins, scouting for the perfect hiding spot along the trail. Rather than relying on

to favor Hiders, so they often receive

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

have it easier, they don’t have to

to

as I get home,

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with

line, I can immediately predict who will

a while to even

a brief physical examination, recording of vital signs, a psychological evaluation, and a personal interview. Although they go through

I say anything –

“Alina Mockett!”

from the receptionist area, I

with excitement, even though I have been preparing for this

a deep breath 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

aware that you’re short,

Feeling self-conscious, I grimace.

5’2″, which I consider a normal enough height, but in comparison to the others from my pack, I guess I’m one of the shortest. As she walks around me, the doctor taps

hair’s black and a bit on the shorter side, but we