[Closed] I guess you just drive...

What do you do when you realize you have no where to go? No one to turn to?

I guess you just drive.

And I did. I wasn't abandoning my responsibilities. Not my home, not my job, and definitely not my pack, however small it may have been. I knew now more than ever I had more and more wolves looking to me for help, and I was beginning to realize we had more threats to fend off than The Supremacy and their false God. Threats that were closer to home. Threats not even I was certain I could detect in time. And the number of wolves in need of a pack was only increasing by the day. But I couldn't stay in Index either. I'd been sitting in my drivers seat for hours with a ball of red hot magma in my gut, and it wasn't going away. I was filled with more rage than my body could contain, and it was going to come out eventually. She was going to come out, unless I could do something, unless I could turn that raw power inside of me into something less destructive.

The problem was, I was out of ideas. Driving recklessly through the streets of Index, my eyes filtered through red, and filled with so much anger and a feeling of intense betrayal so strong it physically hurt me. I felt like a singularity was growing in my core, crushing me from the inside out. And it wasn't going away! It wasn't disappearing, it wasn't relieving with time, it was growing larger and larger and I had no where to go and no one to turn to. I was a ticking time bomb, and as the fear grew, my driving became more reckless. As the rage increased, the harder it became to see. As the feeling of complete and utter hatred swelled, as did that ball of red hot magma in my gut.

My truck had long since taken me out of Index' borders. No one on the road, nightfall had come, and the land around me was empty of human life. Until a flashing sign with busted out vowels came into focus.

M T L

I pulled into the parking lot. It was the last thing I remembered before finding myself in room 201. I was standing in front of the bed. My belongings, what I had with me anyway, Odin's journal, my wallet, and the keys to my truck sat neatly piled in the center of the bed. My hair and clothing were completely drenched. And as far as I could tell, I had complete control over my body. That's a good sign... I whispered to myself, shivering as a gust of icy cold air came rushing through the door I didn't even realize was open. I rushed towards it, shoving it closed and twisting over the lock. I had control... But also no memory of how I got from my truck, to my room, or why I was soaked in water. It wasn't until I had the door closed when I realized the shower was running.

My feet carried me slowly towards the bathroom, suddenly unsure. That was a strange feeling... That the idea of someone in the shower is what made me unsure. Not the fact that I had a new blank spot in my memory. Not the fact that nothing made sense since I pulled into the parking lot... And even more frightening was the fact that the only explanation was that I was getting used to this. That this was becoming my own twisted version of normal. I was actually thankful, when I finally got up enough nerve to open the bathroom door. That action alone had taken my mind off of far more sinister thoughts as I stood there, staring at the bathroom... Staring at the shower, completely empty.

I shut off the water and moved back to the bed. I sat down, staring at my feet and the drops of water falling from the bottom of my jeans to the stained carpet below. My elbows propped onto my knees, head slumped forward, and I gripped my fist comfortably with my hand. None of which came into focus until I stopped looking at the puddle I was creating on the floor, and stared at something a bit closer... My thumb. I brought it closer to my face, glaring at a chunk of something caught under my finger nail. I pulled it free, holding it up to examine it in the dim light of the room. It was bloody, whatever it was it was bloody? My eyes widened and I tossed it to the floor, suddenly feeling a sharp pain in my arm.

I stood up, tearing my jacket off like I was on fire. It felt like my arm was on fire. My body stumbled against the wall when I finally saw the source of my pain. All around, from shoulder to wrist, the words "I Rise" had been carved into my own skin, over and over again. Varying sizes, open bloody wounds in the shape of letters covered my arm. Diluted red streaks ran down my skin as the water that drenched my shirt mixed with blood and dropped to the floor. And I began feeling lightheaded, not even realizing how deeply and quickly I'd been breathing through my mouth, while feeling like the air was being sucked out of the room. Everything was framed with a vignette... And that dark border was increasing like the room was closing in on me. Was I having a panic attack?

I rushed forward, and my boot kicked the nightstand, causing the lamp to rattle back and forth loudly, which only increased as I violently opened the top drawer and pulled out the bible. I wasn't even religious, not this kind anyway, but I still hugged it tight and pulled myself in as small as I could make myself and sat on the floor in the corner of the room. Eyes closed. It was almost funny. That the most fucked up thing about this was the one thing that brought me back. Reminding myself that I'd been through this before, that I was used to it now. It was enough to regain my ability to breathe normally, anyway. And when I finally got up enough nerve to stand up, the bible fell to the floor...

It was wide open, and a symbol, written in deep red, blood red, stared up at me from one of the revealed pages. I'd seen that symbol before... I didn't even realize it but my hand was gripped tight around my shoulder, where the same symbol had been branded into me. I found enough courage to pick up the bible, and discovered the symbol had been drawn in every single page. And as I began turning them quicker and quicker they began tearing free from the book, until I lost it and started intentionally tearing them out. Growling at first, then yelling, as my claws emerged and I began tearing each page into a million pieces. And I tossed what remained across the room, hands running up my face and to my hair where they gripped as I paced.

I'd seen it coming, and no... I wasn't used to it.

The floor was scattered in scripture, fragments of pages stained in blood. At the center, that's where I stood. Trying to figure out the symbolism of the scene, trying to imagine what kind of point the ancestors were trying to make by only stepping in when the only threat they needed to worry about, was the threats they produced in prophecy. Threats disguised as guidance.

I didn't even move, finally realizing that I wasn't even looking for an escape this time. I was reacting, and I guess a psychiatrist would tell me that's a good thing... Or maybe a bad thing... I guess it was bad for my rage problems... But good because it meant I hadn't completely accepted what was happening to me. But... I also wasn't looking for an escape, and I guess that meant I finally accepted that there wasn't one. Not an immediate one anyway, that was if the witch could even do what she said she could do... I didn't know anymore. And frankly, trust was in short supply these days so I was inclined to believe her intentions weren't exactly honorable either.

Honor is just an excuse for the evil in the world to justify acting on their whims and desires.  My head looked in all directions. The voice wasn't coming from one particular location... It was coming from... Everywhere. Not everywhere. Inside. Those long... snake like, hissed S sounds were familiar. I rushed to the mirror, staring at a reflection of myself with blackened eyes. Like spilled ink on a piece of paper the black spread to cover every inch of each eye. My heart pounded, and I discovered a newfound fear. A fear of myself. Looking at my horrific reflection, hearing her laugh but seeing my mouth open and body shake with the movements of laughter. But I couldn't move... I could only watch.

Do you truly believe the she-wolf has betrayed you? My mouth moved again, but her voice, dual tones at once, that's what came out of me. Her question didn't even sink in until moments later, and the second it did I remembered that feeling when those five treacherous words came out of Luxx' mouth. The words that told me her desperate attempts to get me to believe in her loyalty weren't genuine or honest. She was a criminal, the kind that wanted to rob a bank, shoot a few people in the process, and after, still thought she wasn't deserving of prison time. The kind that when put on the stand, would let down her hair, cry a few tears, and explain that her betrayal of the law was forced upon her. She was the kind of criminal that would look in the eyes of the families that suffered at her hand, and explain that she had a reason for doing what she did, that it was for the greater good, while telling them their pain was invalid because she'd experienced worse.

Her betrayal had nothing to do with her being a lone. And had everything to do with her being a genuinely rotten, terrible, disgusting creature. What the Supremacy had done to me made the betrayal sting, but I couldn't blame her for that, she didn't know about everything they'd caused me, everything they'd cost me, how they'd tormented me. No, what made her betrayal so damned terrible, was the fact that she knew what they'd done to other wolves. The same wolves she claimed to want to protect. The same wolves she wanted the world to believe she loved wholly. The same wolves she allied against, all to save one. She didn't care about wolves. She cared about herself. She cared about her Spiritual Leader. That was it. And telling me didn't earn her anything. It wasn't brave. Brave would have involved her telling me the second she expressed her loyalty, the second she even hinted at it, it would have fucking validated that loyalty. Maybe she didn't plan to ever tell me, or maybe she was saving it, hoping it would buy her some good grace when she needed it the most.

Yes... Do you feel that Pack Master? Do you feel that rage? Do you feel how betrayal and rage feed off of one another? Do you see how they make you stronger? Do you feel how they make me stronger?" I'd been consumed by it, I hadn't even realized. When I looked at my reflection I remembered that I wasn't exactly alone... And as quickly as I'd been lost in that vortex of anger, I was sucked into another, a vortex of fear. I could feel everything fading. Senses growing weak, eyes going dark, but it went faster this time. Because I gave into it.

I just let it.

It was cold.

That was the first thing I noticed, and I clung to that feeling for as long as I could. Ignoring the chirping birds and sound of what to me seemed like rustling branches. But then other feelings took hold. Like the aches and pains in my bones, the kind I only got after waking up from a long bender. The feeling of icy cold water dripping onto my back. The numbness in my toes... The frozen feeling in my fingers. Scents came flooding in shortly after. The smell of snow, of wildlife, and of blood.

I'd been laying on my stomach, and my arm was twisted at my side, palm facing the sky. My other arm was bent up over my head, and fingers lazily shuffled over the top of my hair, which felt like each strand was covered in tiny ice crystals. My lips were so dry it was almost painful to pry my mouth open, and my eyes were no different. In fact, it was so bright I couldn't even open them, even as I groaned and grunted, pulling my arm up to push my upper body off of the ground, they stayed tightly shut.

I managed to open one, bright white light overwhelmed my retina, then it dimmed and a blurry picture started to come into focus. A wheat field? I was in... A dead wheat field, sparse and covered in melting snow. I turned to my left, where a sharp line of forest lined the edge of the field, but to my right, it was nothing but pastures and fields as far as the eye could see. Rolling hills covered in fencing and farmland. Muted hues of browns and yellows, only contrasted by the patches of snow in between.

A shiver drew my attention, and my other eye tore open, looking down at my naked body which was covered in dirt, blood, and a few scattered dry leaves and twigs which stuck to my skin. This time when I looked around, I used both eyes, inspecting every inch in front of me for life before deeming it safe enough to stand. I pulled myself to my feet slowly, nearly losing balance a few times as I wiggled my toes to try and regain some feeling in them.

How did I get here? How long had I been here? Where even was ''here''?

I rubbed my face, smacked myself on the cheek to try to get rid of the tired feeling in my eyes, and slowly turned around. I was in no way prepared for what I was about to see. Animals... Parts of animals... mostly cattle. All of them lined up, their dead bodies and parts particularly placed in the patch of field behind me. I took a step back, my focus shifting further out as I realized just how big this fucked pet cemetery really was. Their mutilated bodies used as a twisted art sculpture, laid out into a Symbol of Lilith so large it could be seen from space.

I could feel panic rising in my chest, and I shook my head in disagreement, as if that would make it go away. My first instinct, even if it instigated that feeling of panic, was the right one. I needed to get out of here, and the only place that provided enough cover was the nearby wood. I wasn't even sure I was capable of running, but I had slipped in between the trees before I could even register the way my muscles ached in my legs.

The sunlight was less bright in here, and my eyesight was far more capable. The second I spotted a small house I hid behind a tree, looking for a vehicle, checking for lights, trying to hear voices. Anything at all to tell me it was empty. My stomach growled from hunger, and I looked down at it as if I could make it stop by sheer force of will. An alarmingly loud noise followed, and my head shot back up to it's normal position, eyes staring towards the direction the noise came from as I tried to hide myself behind the tree even more. Watching as quietly as I could as a man carried a cooler to the back of his truck, and a young girl climbed into the passenger seat. Did you shut off that heater? The mans voice called out. Yes, daddy. Everything's off. The young girl replied. It better be, Chelsea. Don't wanna come home to a burnt down house do we?, No, daddy. She laughed as she closed the passenger door, and her father hopped into the drivers side.

I rotated around the tree as the truck drove off, keeping myself completely hidden as it took off down a long dirt path. My arms crossed, shoulders raised up, and I bounced on my toes, trying to keep moving, trying to keep warm as I waited, making sure they weren't coming back... And when I felt it was safe, I rushed to the front door, looking for a way inside. I searched for hidden keys, lifted plants, ran my fingers over the frame, looked under the rug... Then moved to the windows, all of which were locked.

Except one.

The second I crawled through the window I landed on a bed with a pink comforter. Shelves covered in dolls surrounded me, and at the corner of the room, a heater... Which was on. I rolled off the bed and stood in front of it, rotating and rubbing my hands together, breathing into them to keep them warm as the heater warmed the rest. More and more feeling, a tingling feeling returned to my toes. My eyes scanned the room before I knelt down to shut off the heater, and went for the door. I turned the handle slowly, opening it just a sliver and pressed my ear against the crack.

My eyes closed, I exhaled, and time slowed.

Not a sound.

When I opened the door fully, I hesitated as I took a step out of the girls room. I looked down the left, then down the right of the hallway. A door was partially opened at the back of the house, and a messy brown blanket hung off the edge of the end of the bed. My feet stepped lightly down the hall, but quickly, and when I reached the door, I checked inside briefly before entering the room.

Immediately I began shuffling through drawers, finding a pair of sweats. I slipped them on quickly, struggling not to fall over as my foot got caught in the fabric. I didn't even get them pulled up properly before I closed the drawer and moved to the closet, shuffling around until I found a hoodie, which I quickly pulled over my head and grabbed a pair of boots from the closet before closing it too.

As my feet carried me swiftly towards the door I'd entered, I caught my reflection. Blood stains around my mouth, and splattered across my face. I had already known it was me that had created that... Symbol of corpses. But seeing my face covered in blood somehow confirmed something I already knew. I exhaled, passing the mirror and leaving it behind me as I moved towards the kitchen. I carried the boots in one hand, and grabbed a can of beans with the other before slipping out the back door, which was conveniently placed within the kitchen. Pausing only long enough to look at a portrait of the little girl and her father. I'm sorry. I whispered.

And I left.

Before completely leaving the property, I reached for a newspaper that was sitting on the patio furniture out back. The scent of my bloodstained face overwhelming as I took the paper with me, north. I had no idea where I was, but I knew I needed to get away from this house... Away from what I'd done... And when I felt like I'd gone far enough, I sat on the nearest stump that wasn't covered in snow, held the newspaper with my teeth, and slipped on my boots. I only pulled the paper free from my teeth when the last boot was on, and the can of beans rolled off of my lap and onto the ground. Okanogan county? I ready aloud, dropping my hand to my lap, and the newspaper with it. I looked around, glaring, knowing that when I'd left Index I'd been heading towards central Washington, and my motel had to have been somewhere on that path... Now I was in northern central Washington? Had I traveled this distance on foot? Where was my truck? Where was Odin's journal?

A sinking feeling in my gut was the only thing that reminded me how hungry I was, and I set the paper beside me before reaching for the can of beans. My fangs emerged and I popped holes around the top of the can, using my claws to finally peel the entire top off once enough of it had been pierced. I didn't hesitate to dig in with my hands, scooping the beans into my mouth so quickly some of it was plopping to the ground between my feet. Closing my eyes, tilting my head back, like it was better than sex, then going back in for more. As far as I knew, the last I ate was the day before... But that wasn't right, and I knew it. I could cover a fuck load of ground in wolf form, and I knew that there was a chance that I had. But my body told me that I hadn't just been out for a night... My body told me it'd been days, the aches and pains themselves said it, it felt like I hadn't been in human form in quite a while too. And judging by the field of cattle corpses, it was obvious I wasn't killing them for food, I was just killing them to kill them.

My stomach instantly started to hurt, as if the thought itself was causing me to reject food like one would at the sight of a murder victim. I set the can down and placed my fist over my mouth, swallowing over and over again in an attempt to keep what I'd put in, from coming out. Both of my hands fell to my side, palms pressed against the surface of the stump, and fingers curled over as I leaned forward, spitting the flavor out of my mouth to the area between my boots. I needed water... My eyes focused straight ahead, where a puddle sat calmly, most likely sanitary enough for drink as it looked like it was created from the melted snow at the tree tops. I moved towards it, scooping water into my mouth, then over my face, wiping the blood from around my mouth and cheeks before scrubbing away what was left on my hands, and running my now cleaned hands through my hair.

In an instant I paused. Water dripped from my hands back into the puddle, and my head sat alert, staring out towards my left as I sniffed the air. The sound of a snapping twig locked my eyes on a specific tree. Someone was behind it. I could smell them... And they weren't human. I was in a staring competition with a tree, refusing to make anymore sound than I already had, until a paw came into a view... Then another... And a face. She was female, young... Very young. Just a pup, her front half a white fur that blended into a dark grey in the back. She took a step forward, and I used my legs to slowly stand, taking in another deep breath to discover something I hadn't expected... She wasn't pack.

Her next foot moved forward, though hesitantly, and when she did, so did I. I won't hurt you. I said to her, keeping my eyes on hers the entire time. I tested her, allowing myself to near her in slow movements. As I got closer, she stayed. There were moments when I could sense her desire to step back, but she didn't. She stayed, and I knelt down in front of her. Can you... I started, but a piercing feeling in my shoulder turned my blue eyes into a bright glowing white, and a fanged growl projected out of me in her direction. As I reached back, I gripped the end of an arrow, that was sticking right out of my shoulder; And turned to see the cause of my pain. A man... The man from the house. His face transformed, from anger to shock when his green eyes locked onto my glowing white. You're... He lowered his weapon, a crossbow of all fucking things. You're an alpha... He said in complete surprise. And you're a dick. I snapped back as I tore the arrow from my shoulder, and growled as I tossed it to the ground. You may be an alpha but you don't talk that way around my daughter. He stepped forward as what I now realized was his daughter, hid behind his legs.

My eyes dimmed as I looked at her, and when my gaze returned to him, my fangs retracted. Any reason you shot me with that bow? I asked, searching for an answer that I was fairly certain would come. I caught your scent. That all? I asked, but it sounded more like an accusation of deceit than a curious question. No... I saw the field. Came back, caught your scent in my home, and came lookin'. He paused, clearly threatened by me. You do that? Did I do what? I asked, wincing through the pain in my shoulder as I gripped it tight to try to stop the bleeding. The wheat field.

Yeah...

He knelt down, wrapping his arm around his pup and stroking her fur, but his eyes stayed securely locked on my own. This was a long pause, like I was the main attraction, and they were just here to watch me bleed out. The parallels of that idea compared to my day to day life were unfathomably loud and clear.

When he stood again, he draped the strap of his crossbow over his shoulder and shoved his hands into the pockets of his flannel jacket. You want something more substantial to eat? He asked, nodding at the can of beans sitting on the nearby stump. You trust me? I asked, but again, it didn't sound at all like a question... More like a wave of surprise. Nope. But as far as I can tell, you eat cow, not wolf. He turned, no pause at all this time, and him and his daughter started heading back in the direction of their home.

I, however, took a deep breath, and pulled my hand away to see just how covered in blood it truly was. My eyes darted between the can of beans and the man and his daughter as they grew smaller in the distance. And I took my time weighing the pros and cons of trying to explain the disaster of mutilated animal parts in the field in exchange for a good meal. I leaned up against the tree behind me, the same tree his pup had been hiding behind. I caught a whiff of what I thought was her lingering scent until I looked down and saw her tugging at the bottom of my sweats with her teeth, her father now stopped in the distance, staring in our direction. Okay... I sighed, finally giving into her pull, and started following the man to his home, as his kid ran circles around my feet.

---

When I stepped inside, it was different. I actually caught their scent this time, and it was on everything. There was a small lingering scent of an unfamiliar, but it was fading, and probably had been fading for some time now. Without the blood splatter on my face, I was catching all kinds of scents, actually. Including the scent of meat as he pulled some ground beef from his refrigerator.

His daughter rushed past me, and I watched her scurry off down the hall for a moment, then let my eyes fall back on the same picture I'd stared at before I left his home last. So... He started talking, turning on the frying pan and leaning up against the counter with crossed arms at the same time. His eyes returned to mine, and I stared right back. So? You're an alpha. We've established that. I replied as I tore my eyes way to pull the picture off the wall so I could examine it closer. Before I could move he tore it from my hands and hung it back up, returning to his previous position after. And that doesn't mean anything to you? Trust me, it means plenty. I said, wincing again at the pain in my shoulder. Without a word he moved to his refrigerator, and pulled a first aid kit off the top, then set it on the nearby dining room table. Sit. And I did, hesitantly. It didn't matter that he was wolf, I never felt inclined to obey when anyone said ''sit''.

You've ruined my sweater. He said casually, and pulled the fabric down to look at the hole in my shoulder. Gotcha good, din't I? There was a faint moment of laughter, and instead of returning that with a growl, I exhaled loudly through my nose and pulled the sweater off. Whoa boy, I don't swing that way. This time the laughter was more prominent, but it was completely one sided. Hilarious. I said sarcastically, wincing as I felt my wound being doused in cool water. What's the matter with you anyway? Lose your sense of humor when you decided to become a burglar, or when you started performing animal sacrifices in winter? I flashed a smile, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Both. He started laughing, and kind of did too, if you could count it as laughter... I was trying to hold it back. I guess it's not completely gone.

There was a moment of silence, and I guess I was lost in my own head. Still trying to put the pieces of a broken puzzle together. It's not that bad. No stitches needed. I'm just gonna patch it up so I can get back to supper. I nodded. How'd you get these scars? You talk a lot, guy. Frank, actually. But I do have a buddy named guy. Ha, come to think of it, I also have a friend named Buddy. I did manage to laugh this time, and he did too. Where's you're daughter? I asked, not because I was curious, but rather... I didn't feel comfortable sharing too much information in front of the young. She's not my daughter. His tone changed, and he snapped the first aid kit closed, turning back around shortly after to put it back on the fridge, then got back to preparing his meal. I distinctly remembered her calling him Daddy, and I also distinctly remembered that The Supremacy had been... And most likely still was on a killing spree. It was easy enough to the put the pieces together this time. The puzzle was broken here too, but the picture those pieces made was clear as day. Onyx... Pardon? I got up from my chair and slipped the sweater back on as I turned to face his direction. My name. It's Onyx. Port. I took a step forward, extending my hand. He stared at it for a moment, and it nearly got awkward until he finally took it. Nice to meet you Port. Nice to meet you too, Onyx. He shook, released his grip, and went right back to throwing patties onto the pan.

So... I don't gotta spare room.. He started speaking as I roamed the adjacent room, the living room. Taking in the place. It was dirty. It was run down. Repairs needed to be made... There was a bucket on the floor to collect rain water, and judging by the rings around it, it'd been there for a while. The blankets tossed over the couch had holes. The floorboards creaked and bent as I stepped. The filling from the cushions on the couch was protruding from the seams. And the more I looked, the more bleak it became. Nothing about his living situation, nothing about his foster kids living situation was okay. And I had a growing feeling in my gut that they'd been living here for a while, and that they weren't living here by choice. ...But I do have a couch. It's more comfortable than it looks. His final words became louder as he stepped into the living room and caught me gawking at his poor living situation. "I'll feed ya'... I'll clothe ya'... I'll provide shelter, it might not be the best, but I can guarantee it's warmer in here than it is out there. I won't ask questions that you don't wanna answer. But that little girl in there is my responsibility... He pointed towards her room, and my head finally rose, eyes meeting his own. If you're gonna be here, if you need a place to hide, I... I can help. But you won't lay a hand on that kid. You will treat her with as much respect as you'd treat your own sister. Got it? Do we have a deal? He wasn't telling me everything, I knew he wasn't. But I nodded, knowing that whatever he was hiding, I needed to know what it was.

Deal.

My senses where abnormally sensitive since what I believed, the three days I spent in wolf form. And for some reason, today they were at their worst. The smallest odors made my eyes water, the lightest of noises came with a skull pounding echo, and the dimmest lights seemed to sear straight through my closed eyelids. And I was exhausted. I had to wonder if the wolf even allowed me to sleep during those three days. Judging by my hunger, I wasn't sure he let me do anything but kill.

But it was my senses that woke me. The creaking of a door, followed by the sounds of the trees and birds within them, and the howling of the wind. It was as if someone had turned the volume rocker to one-hundred as the door opened, and slowly turned it back down to zero as it's hinges swung it closed. And then... A loud bang as it latched shut. My eyes shot open with the sound, as if the movements of my eyes muscles were in sync with the shutting of the door.

It was still dark, but I squinted anyway, until everything started coming into focus and my face slowly relaxed. The young girl I'd come to know as Chelsea, or by her wolf name, Pixi, sat on the coffee table in front of me. From what I could gather she was about five years old. As sharp as a box of knives too. I'd never met a kid that sounded more adult than I did most of the time. And I guess it made sense... She had to grow up real quick to deal with whatever horrors I assumed her and Port had to face before moving here. Even now, staring at her hugging a ragged old doll in her arms. her tiny features staring right back at me, big brown eyes, and dirty fingernails, she had this demeanor about her... An old soul.

My eyes didn't move from hers, and the rest of my body stayed just as still. And when she did open her mouth, the words came out in a single lazy tone, You were sayin' stuff in your sleep. The only sound that followed was the sound of her forcing the air out of her lungs by hugging her doll tighter. I still hadn't moved, even when I opened my mouth to reply, I stayed perfectly still, laying on my side, my eyes looking up at her curiously. What was I saying? The grip on her doll loosened a bit, and she exhaled as she rotated it in her arms like she was holding a baby. She brushed it's hair out of it's face, her head turned to the side as she looked down at it like a loving mother would a child. And when she spoke, she spoke clearly towards her doll, with an accent I didn't even know she could produce, and one I sure as fuck didn't recognize. Nāṉuyarum.

There was silence, and a confused glare above my eyes as my gaze broke away and stared off into nothing. I didn't know what it meant... But damn did it feel familiar. When I finally let my eyes land back on her, I watched as she rotated her dolls limbs, spreading it's arms out so it could hug her back as she pulled it against her for the second time. Are you gonna stay with us? She asked, eyes still looking down at the dirty doll in her arms. Do you want me to? I guess that'd be okay. She replied, sighing afterwards like an adult would when they're tired. Her big brown eyes looked at me one last time before she shot up with more energy than I'd been able to muster in the last three days, and scurried off out the back door. The sound of it slamming shut triggered my hand to tear the pillow out from under my head and shove it over my exposed ear.

I slowly pulled the pillow away from my head and tossed it over the coffee table and onto an empty chair. I watched as flurries of dust swirled around in a beam of sunlight that licked the arm of the chair, finally rotating myself into a seated position as I continued to watch, arms relaxed at my sides, palms face down on the cushion, and my body slouched lazily in the center of the couch. I rubbed my eyes, unable to get the sound of her little voice saying that word so clearly as if it was her second language out of my head. Nāṉuyarum. My hand plopped back down, this time landing in my lap, and I allowed my mind to move on; Thinking over the list of things I had planned to do today.

I had written a letter to my pack and signed it on the bottom. It barely said anything at all, and the Alpha in me knew I needed to say more... But the human me knew I couldn't. It's contents were simple... And stated quite clearly that I would be coming back, and that I was safe. Which was more or less all it said. It didn't say where I was, or when I'd be back. Something just told me I needed to be here right now. That these people needed me more right now and fuck... I'd fucked up so much as an Alpha it was time I did something right for a change.

The plan, however, was simple. I needed to head to the nearest town, use my handy dandy little compulsion trick to get my hands on someones phone, find the location of that motel I'd stopped at... And then compel someone to take my letter straight there, put it on the dash of my truck, then return to their lives. It sounded far more fucking tedious than I assumed it would be. It was actually simple, and the only way I could be certain I wouldn't be tracked.

The door swung open again, and this time my head turned towards the direction of the sound. I watched Pixi rush through the kitchen, and back to her room, pulling her doll along with her by it's hand. The movement pulled me to my feet, and I reached for the plaid flannel jacket Port had loaned me, zipped it up, pulled the black beanie he'd given me over my head, and moved to the back door. I glanced at the picture of Port and Pixi again, and nudged it with my finger to straighten it out on the wall before pulling the door closed behind me.

My head shrunk down into my shoulders as the breeze rushed past the exposed skin on my neck, and my feet carried me around to the back of the house where Port was digging a hole. Lookin' for buried treasure? I asked as I neared him. Ayyyye, you're up? He spoke through a grunt as he dug the shovel into the earth, and my eyes traveled to another hole directly beside the new one. I took a step back as he piled his shovel full of dirt in front of my boots. That depends on your definition of treasure. He said as he jammed the end of the shovel into the soil and rested his arm at the top of the handle. If I'm honest, I'm not sure our generator's gonna hold up much longer. Need a place to store our meat. It stays cold 'nuff 'round these parts to build an outdoor freezer. Won't keep the meat as fresh as the refrigerator, but we make do with what we got. His voice was tired, out of breath, and I reached for the handle, May I? He threw his hands up, took a step back, then began pulling the mismatched gloves from his hands. Have at it. He smiled as he passed the gloves to me.

I hopped into the hole and started digging. So, why two? Separating new meat from old meat. You could say that. He smiled again, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning his shoulder up against a tree. So... I gotta question for ya'. I looked up at him as I dug the shovel in again Oh yeah? My eyes returned to the end of the shovel, and I paused, propping my arm on the end of the handle just as he had. You sleep walk? I laughed, and stopped when I realized the question was a serious one. It was written all over his face. The same confused glare I'd given Pixi returned to my face, this time directed at Port. No. I answered seriously, shaking my head like I'd never heard that question before. Which was true, I hadn't. Why ya' ask?

Ya' did last night. He replied bluntly, crossing his arms as if it was an accusation not a fact. Did I? I asked, this time my voice didn't match up with the question. I was actually surprised, and it transferred into my tone. Yep. Ya' did. 'Woke up a couple hours before dawn, door wide open, and you twitchin' 'round in the front yard like ya' got a demon in ya'. You got some demons' ya' fightin'? I paused, looking down at the end of the shovel before I pulled it free and dug it back into the earth. You have no idea. I mumbled.

He switched the weight from one foot to another as he watched me dig. It was weird, actually. Looked to me like you wanted to leave but somethin' wouldn't let ya'. I dumped my next shovel of dirt in front of his boots just as he had me. Speaking of leavin'... I changed the subject, I had an in and I was takin' it. Oh yeah? No, not permanently, but I do need to head down to Omak today for a couple hours. The look on his face was a combination of... Disappointment and confusion. I am coming back. I nodded, turning my upper body to the side to catch his eyes which were spaced off on the ground below him. There are just things... There's just something I need to take care of. He nodded, his expression now filled with understanding. The couch'll be made up for ya' when you get back. He followed with a single nod, and stepped forward, reaching for the handle. Now git' on with it. Pixi's got a sixth sense 'bout things like this. She'll throw a conniption fit if she finds out ya' didn't get back in time. Back in time for what? He grinned from ear to ear.

Story night.