our weird friendship anomaly (Wenclair)

Howl Not Howdy - 9

Wednesday sat calmly against the tree, just before the campfire in front of her.

It had been about two nights since they left the first town they encountered. It had just been trees, rivers, hills, fields of dying grass and flowers. Surprisingly no bear since she first met Enid.

Wednesday stared at the empty bowl in her lap, thinking about the emptiness she honestly would've felt traveling without... that annoying thing.

Pfft, emptiness? Why was she even thinking about that?!

Seriously, curse these damn teenager hormones.

The goth set the bowl aside and looked over at said-annoying thing.

Enid was all curled up on her sleeping bag, letting the heat of the fire embrace her rather than the sleeping bag itself.

She slept peacefully, shockingly no sores. Her face was so at peace and ease, to wake her up would make you feel terrible like after accidentally kicking a puppy.

Ugh.

Wednesday forced herself to look away.

Was she seriously STARING?

How did I let myself look for so long? Damn you, I should not hold any feelings inside of me. I should be empty like this bowl.

Wednesday pulled her knees up to her chest, sort of hugging them close. She now stared her dark eyes into the small crackling fire.

The wood was burning.

Of course it was burning.

But there was another type of burning.

Like something inside of her was burning.

And before she knew it, the fire had died out. She stared at the logs all black and crispy, reminding her of a snack she occasionally had back at home.

Home.

She shook her head and looked back over at the slumbering werewolf girl.

Enid lightly moved around, no longer curling, and visually shivered.

Wednesday was always cold, but she could tell it was too cold in this nature for the blonde. She's obviously not in her werewolf form.

Wednesday went with the safer option of lighting the fire again instead of... tucking Enid into the sleeping bag, because if she did she would dig a hole for herself and bury herself in it.

She struck the match and the small fire started again.

And now Enid stopped moving, resting peacefully once again.

Wednesday's eyes slowly panned upward and looked through the branches and leaves.

The stars were glittering, she could barely make out the moon but she saw it in its phase.

Escaping Nevermore and suddenly bumping into man's greatest beast.

But then it was a werewolf? On a non-full-moon night? Slaughtering a bear but not eating it. Then just laying on top of the Addams daughter herself. And revealed a chipper blonde with some sort-of amnesia.

Werewolf? Sinclair? No full moon?

No memory?

Somehow, Wednesday's eyes wandered back to watching the werewolf girl peacefully sleep. She found herself admitting, "You are... ever so interesting," her voice was barely a whisper that not even Enid's wolf senses would've picked up.