To Fight Back, To Change

Chapter 18 - Stubborn Ass

 OK so...not really ALL that edited. just point out any mistakes, i ws in a rush to get this. :)

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I wound up in a bar. Why? Hell if I know. It took me fair enough time to get to here.  Instead of been a complete idiot and walking all the way into town I had swung back to the house and grabbed ride. She was leaning against the house wall, her sleek jade, ever-so-slightly dented and beaten up body waiting ever so patiently for me.  Without thought, I swung on her, started and roared down the road.  I almost regretted taking my motorbike as the weather was bleaching and hot.

I sweated half my body weight under that cooking sun. Thank you Australia.  Instead of going into the immediate town I drove on the dusty roads until I reached two-towns over from the pack house. Fortunately once night came it soon cooled down to a reasonable level and I didn’t have to go so slow.   Honestly I liked driving too much to stop so soon but I was too deep in thought to really know where I was going.

From common knowledge, wolves don’t hurt easy. They’re fast, strong and almost impenetrable to environmental conditions. Through thick and thin, desert and storm, we’re still mutts. I snorted at my bright, professional sarcasm. Most wolves will shift, instantly and without hesitation, the wolf is a part of you. Kinda like a leech attached to your spirit, feeding off our different emotions.

Leeching of emotions that make our blood-boil and our skin twist or in some unfortunate cases, emotions that make our blood-boil in an entirely different way.  Wolves aren’t that beautiful. Or at least, to me they’re not. They’re brutal and angry, like a seething, throbbing pulse beneath our skin.  A bomb ticking away at your mind. Wolves are ready to lash out and snap up everything within sight. It takes a lot to control us and a lot for us to control ourselves.

This is exactly why rogues are so dangerous, they’re werewolves who can’t handle the wolfy part of them and it makes them volatile, dangerous and very sick. If a strong enough person arrives and that person has enough power to calm the rogue population, like my biological Father, the rogues with their desperate need for control will relent to that power.

Like a heroin addict, their addiction being sanity. Sarah’s incredibly surprised that I hadn;’t become a rogue, she still shakes her head at it. I guess I’m too stubborn for that. Or maybe the fact that I don’ t even really have a wolf anymore. Nothing to control except myself.

I had surveyed my surroundings again, my practiced eyes sculpting lives out of shadows, and cool wind had spun through the air. On the other, I had thought, im not doing all that good at it. So mostly I don’t feel that urge.  Unless I was in a confrontation or a fight that couldn’t afford me not shifting my inner-self stayed just that. Inner. Not like there is much inner self left.

My past had taken that away from me. Annnnddd with that thought I had plummeted into an even worse mood.  “Great” I  hadmuttered, eyeing the small whittling town. “Stand on the edge of the cliff, then kick yourself off why don’t you?”.

So my kicked-off-the-edge-of-a-cliff-self became attracted the pub - like a moth in the dark. I was like a moth. While most of the town was quiet in the night with families peacefully chowing down on food or watching the latest popular TV show, my sights were drawn to the loud, rowdy pub on the edge of the town. The place practically vibrated, almost like it was trying to jump up from its foundations.

Music pumped loud and beating – some band was bashing up a poor song -  but people seemed to like it, cheering and whooping from inside, or even hanging off the veranda. Honestly though, I had no idea why I was here. I didn’t drink alcohol. Sarah, been Sarah, blames it on my fear that if I do eventually drink, I won’t be able to stop.  Who knows, not gonna start now.  I stood dramatically on the sidewalk of the road, opposite of the pub, refusing to go in and not bothering enough to move away.