Dark skies and the smell of a brewing restorm greet Lym as she woke, her eyes fluttered and her back protested in discomfort as she rose to a sitting position. Unconsciously, her hand traveled to long forgotten scar on her face. Years of isolation, and no mirror, made her forget, no one had dared to meant it in her presence. She supposed that was one of the factors that intimidated many, besides the scowl that was seemingly always one her face.
It wasn't until she had fully woken up and her senses became alert that she noticed the low hum that laid beyond her. Confusion muddled around in her head, where was she? Climbing the her feet and stretching, glad to be back on her two feet, Lym stalked slowly through the forest that she had previously lain in.
Surprise quickly flew through her. The flash of bright colors that bounce off hot, metal vehicles speared her eyes, making her blink furiously. The odor of fuel and oil caused her to wrinkle her nose up in disgust, the hum was more prominent now that she was closer. Anger ignited through her like wildfire. How long was she out, how long had her wolf forced her to relive that memory?
"A week and a half." Her wolf piped up, oblivious to her fury.
Not only did she force her in a comatose state and had that memory on replay for nearly two weeks, but she brought her to New York. What the flying fuck had gotten into her wolf, it was preposterous!
Snarling in with malice, Lym pushed her wolf in to the deepest corners of her mind, not wanting to be around the animal any longer. Hatred burned deep within her and she doubted that it'd be going away anytime soon.
Shaking her head to rid herself of her inevitable anger, she started to sniff out her new area, the stench of humans was near by, campers. Knowing that her bare body would come to a shock to the mundanes, Lym just kept walking towards their little campsite. She could already smell the smoke and hear the crackle of the fire.
Laughter filled the air as two brunette females laugh at a redhead's corny joke, she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Watching the trio, she knew that there were more around here somewhere, their scents lingered in the air. She watched them for a bit longer, and finally, two males came out. Taking in their appearance she saw tall, strong builds and dark hair and eyes. Nothing special to a werewolf, nothing too exotic, merely a person who would catch a human eye.
Wearing a blank look on her grimy face, Lym strutted out, her head held high and shoulders squared, she was not ashamed for them to see her body, and after all she was used to it, being a werewolf and all. Gasps were drawn almost immediately, lingering gazes came from the males.
"Oh my gosh, are you alright?" Worry seeped from a high voice. The brunette with hazel eyes asked warily, willing tears to her eyes, Lym shook her head no.
"P-please help m-me, h-he..." She trailed off, making her shoulders shake to feign sobbing. Lym could hardly conceal her smirk, humans were always so damn ignorant.
"Of course, here take my blanket, you must be freezing!" She had to use all the training she had learned over the years to restrain herself from breaking that female's hand when it touched her shoulder. The only thing she allowed herself to do was flinch. She was loosing patience and she needed clothes, now.
Grabbing a hold of the girl's throat, she watched in amusement as the girl's eyes bugged out of her head slightly, her face wentt red from the lack of oxygen. Lym narrowed her eyes at the girl and loosened her grip a fraction of an inch, she had forgotten how easily humans were damaged.
"All I need is the name of where I am and a change of clothes, your companion means nothing to me." She spoke after a long silent moment that was filled with harsh breathing and fake nails clawing at her hand.
"Stokes State Forest!" A deep baritone voice belts out as a pair of clothes is thrown at her feet. Tossing the fragile human into a setup tent, she began to pull on her clothes. After getting a nice whiff of the girl, she immediately knew the girl got around, willingly. The stench of the girl's musky sex scent and multiple males' had her stomach rolling.
Not quite New York then. She thought to herself.
Glaring at the mundanes, she slipped back into the protection on the woodlands. The clothes were, thankfully, leaning towards the darker section of the color field. Dark blue jeans that were a bit too tight around her ass and thighs and a black tank top that stuck to her torso and chest like a second skin. It was very annoying to her, though the lack of shoes might prove a bit of difficulty.
Letting her feet carry her, she wandered around the forest, pondering over what to do next. The most reasonable thing to do was to steal a truck and head towards New York, go to the Big Apple, and find out what shit she could dig up on her mate. Whatever his name is, how hard could it be?
The sound of whizzing cars and smell of tires and motor oil became strong, when her feet hit pavement she knew she had hit a highway, one that was frequently used or it was near an interstate. Clenching her jaw, she silently prepared herself for the onslaught of mundanes that would be surrounding her.
It had been hours Lym had been holding out her thumb, trying to get a truck or car to stop. And finally after two and a half hours, a rusty old pickup truck slowed down and pulled up beside her. It was impossible to she through the grim caked windows, how the hell did this person drive the excuse of a car?
Lym was greeted with a dark, wrinkled face. speckled with freckles. The aroma of lavender and spices hit her nose. She narrowed her eyes slightly at the old man in front of her, he was a wolf. Just her damn luck.
"What chu waitin' on lassie?" A Scottish voice that she was well accustomed to was mixed with a southern drawl of the deep south. His light cocoa brown skin was contrasting deeply with that mess of white hair, his hair was more towards the fro side. Long fingers grasped the steering wheel, they were adorned with rings, all a different color of jewel. Diamond. Ruby. Emerald. Onyx. Sapphire. Each band was metal. Her brows furrow subtly at the enigma.
The creak of the old door opening was the only thing heard besides his low mumbles of nonsense.
"Ge' in lassie, tha other doo' dunna wor', 'fraid." She snorted and climbed in the truck, careful to not hit her head of the tattered ceiling of the old pickup. She almost laughed at the man, everything thing about him was old. It was nice for a change, he was kinda amusing, nothing told her to immediately kill the oldie.
"Thames." Was all she said. She wasn't about to this this stranger her name, hell, he was a Wolf, no way she'd tell him her name, he'd turn her in to the Council.
"Harold, nice to meet ya Miss Trycker." Her head snapped back so fast that Harold was worried she got whiplash. This little twat.
She snarled in response.
"Ye, I kno' a Trycker when I see one, ya looking just like ya da." Harold's pearly white's sparkled back at her. They locked eyes and his grin widened. "Aye, no just any Trycker, Olympe Trycker. Such a rarity. No' much natural born killers li' ya out there no more." He cranked up the car again and pulled onto the highway. "Sa don't worry ya lil ass, I dunna have any gain on turnin' ye in." Harold wheezed out a croaky laugh.
The radio was soon turned on, the soft, annoying melody of Blues music poured out of the old thing. Lym rolled down the window with the hand crank leaver, the need to see her surroundings was a constant.
"Where are we headed?" Lym's voice was husky from the lack of use, it made her sound older, wiser, friendly. But in all truth, she was a devil disguise, she was forged from fiery rage.
"Whe' eva this ole truck gonna take us." Her natural instincts told her they were headed north, as much as she adamant about going, deep in her heart she knew she needed to be around her mate.
Though she was almost too young to remember, she could see bits and pieces of her parents. The way they acted around each other, so deeply and truly in love. Her mother never really paid much attention to her, she knew that much, but her dad did everything with her. He was the one that show her affection, she was his little girl, his sole child. She knew that he wanted her mother to be more involved with her but her mother was more focused on her status as a Kappa, a Healer. The few memories she had of her mother was her always brushing her off for work or either taking her father away from when he would play with her in his wolf form.
Clearing her head of the thoughts, Lym tried to focus on the winding road, the trees that flashed past her, it was all one blur. It was a beginning for something new, a freedom that she was choosing. It was for once, her choice. Gael taking her, all those horrid missions he made her, getting thrown in Everest, running away from the mate who's name she didn't even know, it was all forced. A form of protection against the dead world that surrounded her or she was unwilling to it.
She never realized how much power was in one choice until now, she could define her whole life now. A weight she never knew was there had been lifted off her shoulders. A plan formed in her head, she knew what she had to do to be one with herself again. Lym was going to take it slow, watch her ass and be herself.
Olympe wasn't about to go seek out her mate, he was going to come find her. She'd survive the best way she could in New York. If he found her there once, he'd find her again, but she could only hope that she would freak out and run from him again.
With the lukewarm air blasting from the dusty truck and Blues music floating out in the air, the wind from the rolled down window tossing around her thick mess of plaits, Lym could finally relax. She unknowingly knew that the old wolf, Harold, beside her wouldn't turn her in.
In the back of her mind her wolf looked out at the man beside her and felt her body come alight with recognition, she had once grown up with him, her wolf's eyes met those of his wolf's in the mirror and they smiled back at each other through aged eyes and retreated back into their humans' bodies, content to of have found their long lost friend.
It was then, after her wolf's little reconnection with her childhood friend that she knew nothing of, Lym's eyes fluttered shut and feel into a fitful sleep.
Cold metal was strapped against her upper thigh, the gun constantly sent shivers up and down her body. Her small feet tread lightly on the forest floor. Her ears were tuned into every little detail, from the way nightingales sung softly to the way the dawdling creatures sniffed at the ground looking for grub to eat.
One sentence ran through her mind on repeat. Kill Anderson Orion. Her wolf guided her through the trial.
The lone wolf was a Wanderer at it's finest, he helped others if he was getting a gain, he never stayed in one place more than a few days at a time. Before she had left, Lym drank in the man's appearance, human and wolf.
Orion was a brute of a man, he brushed six feet seven inches and was three hundred pounds of pure muscle, his dark skin was covered in fierce white tattoos to stand out, the man was a force to be reckoned with, it was the only reason he had been caught yet. The man had every move planned out before he made them. His wolf was as light as snow, Orion was a walking contradiction.
Gael had sent her out on the mission to prove her loyalty, she knew damn well it was her chance to run like hell, but the was that nagging voice in the back of her head that told her she would get caught.
In the wilderness of Montana she was following his trail, he would always leave telltale signs on his migrations. He made the same round each year. His scent would linger in the air, an earthy scent much like hers, but much more manly, due to the fact that they were both living in the forest most of the time.
But the thing was, Orion's luck ran out, and killing him was a matter of proving loyalty and staying alive for Lym, she knew he wouldn't go down without a fight. It'd be idiotic for a thirteen year old to go at a century old Wolf without a gun, he may be ageless but a bullet to the head would bring him down just like any mere moral.
She watched him through the thick canopies, he was in his light wolf form. She drew her gun, as quiet as possible, and cocked it. Wincing at the slight click thankfully the soft songs of the birds tuned it out.
She lined up the sights perfectly on the .40 Caliber, the gun fired bullets that were strong enough to talk down a bear. Steadying herself against the tree, taking a deep breath, she fired.
The ringing in her ears seemed to stay for hours when in reality it was a few minutes. She looked down below her and saw Anderson Orion laying flat on his back, blood seeped out of his skill. The smell of burnt flesh was clear as day. Her enhanced sense of sight allowed her to see the slightly charred skin that was around the entry wound.
That was the first time Olympe cried in five years, knowing that there was no turning back now.