They took the girl to the settlement's infirmary. She was admitted into a private room, becoming the only patient in the building save for a few coming and going for minor medicines. The place is rarely put to use, considering that werewolves require minimal care and humans are rarely permitted inside of the reservation.
Now she lies in a hospital bed of white, appearing more like a fallen angel than what she already had. She's clothed now at least, clad in an olive sweatshirt and black joggers which Delano had been sent to retrieve from the village's shopping center.
Isaac had dressed her himself: for whatever reason, his gut didn't trust anyone else to. Despite having carried her back to civilization whilst she was stark naked, he had managed to keep her covered from anyone else's eyes.
Besides allowing the doctor to hook up an IV and check her vitals, Isaac has been the only one to touch her. For the same instinctive reason that he's never left her bedside, he feels the need to keep it that way.
He sits there, in a wooden chair he'd pulled up, watching her resting face and listening to her peaceful breathing. Her complexion is still too pale for comfort, but hearing the doctor say that she bears no injuries brought Isaac a greater relief than imaginable.
Though she has no lethal issues, the question is still out as to what exactly her condition is. Extensive tests were ran on her, and although she's very obviously comatose, she isn't in a coma.
The not knowing is what's driving Isaac insane.
It's been three hours since he had found her, and in those three hours he's noticed himself acting out of character. Why does he care so much about what happens to this girl or her wellbeing? She isn't a member of the Lake Louise settlement, therefore he has no reason to care.
As the master of the reservation, he oversees everything that happens amongst his people. Nothing occurs in Lake Louise without Isaac knowing about it, and no harm comes to any werewolf without him delivering a punishment. His job is to protect and preserve his kind, so he does.
But this girl isn't a werewolf. She's a human—or so he assumes. She doesn't have a human's scent, exactly, but she surely doesn't have a werewolf's, either. In fact, she doesn't have a scent at all. All she smells like is the wild daffodils he'd found her lying in.
What the hell are you doing? Isaac wonders to himself as he watches over the seemingly sleeping girl. He doesn't like the change in his demeanor, but it's also too strong to fight.
Two quick warning knocks come from the door before it opens, revealing Mason on the other side. Isaac's head snaps up, his posture straightening at someone else's presence.
"I thought I'd find you here," Mason says, sauntering in, but keeping a healthy distance from the bed. His eyes flick between the unconscious girl and his worn looking friend.
"Why are you still here?" He asks. "Doc said there's nothing wrong with her. Why are you so worried?"
Isaac shrugs, mindlessly rising from his seat in order to stand by the bed, at the corner nearest to Mason.
He trusts him. They've been close friends for years now. So why is his body putting itself between him and the mysterious girl?
Mason seems to notice it as well, raising an eyebrow.
"You know that whole myth about soulmates is just that: a myth. Right?" Mason asks, studying Isaac with a concerned gaze.
"I'm aware," Isaac grumbles, a bit of a snap to his tone. "I never said anything about soulmates."
"So what are you doing?" Mason flicks his wrist at the bed behind his friend, gesturing to the two of them. "You've only just encountered her this morning and you're already acting attached. She's a human, I. Not a stray puppy." But of course, Mason hasn't been close enough to her to realize that she isn't a human at all.
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Amidst the DaffodilsWerewolf
His family is notorious, known around the world. Her identity is a mystery, her genetics undecided. He is the voice of an entire species. She cannot speak at all. He remembers every wrong that's been done against his kind--he pursues revenge. S...