Bare feet stomped softly on the damp soil, footsteps light and careful to avoid puddles or patches that looked slippery. A line of ants marched across the Gaia forged pathway, the path, brown earth, leaf litter and small sticks and rocks of all shapes and sizes lingered on a natural carpet. A damp, sweet smell of nature and regrowth lingered in the air.
Pale arms flailed about occasionally, like the waving tube man out the front of used car dealerships. The awkward stones or sharp twigs cut into the soles of her feet. Never enough to draw blood, the soles of her feet were tough, yet the ache still resounded, twinging like a guitar string and reverberating up her legs and left it feeling like Fae Smith had accidentally stepped on a pile of lego. It was a humid day.
Her nose inhaled the scent of the forests in La Push. The teenager accounted the things she could sense around her. She could see trees, pine, cedar, oak, redwood and more. She could smell rain and earth, that unique wolf quality she had so eloquently dubbed the 'La Push smell', along with hints of salt water from the beach nearby. Her ears pricked at the distant sound of crashing waves. Of the bear going about it's day, the squirrels and raccoons gathering, the deer grazing.
There was a flapping in the trees. Her head shot up instantly, brown eyes locked on a bird, a sparrow, as it beat it wings swiftly from its perch on a branch. The bird looked back at her, confused. It titled its head, Fae mimicked it. It jumped, free falling for a few tenuous moments, although just as Fae had begun to fret, it extended its wings, feathers caught the draft, and then, with a few flutters, the bird disappeared above the canopy. Fae let out a chuckle.
That chuckle grew, louder slightly, more nonsensical in nature. What a silly creature, she thought as she wrung her hands. She laughed until her ears pricked and a smell overwhelmed her nose. It was like the Forks smell, sweeter though, strong and kind of like the overly strong perfumes worn by elderly women. The principal at her old school used to wear something that smelt like it.
Fae felt the strange sensation, not quite painful yet not exactly pleasant of her nails hardening and pushing forth from her cuticles. Long and sharp claws, brown eyes glanced at her hands. The back of them was smothered in black veins. The frightening sound of multiple birds shooting up into the air had her near jumping into the air and left her with a growing sense of anxiety. Danger was near.
The edges of her lips pulled down and she felt the frown begin to tremble, dark eyes, flecked with the marigold yellow and gold like the sun darted about the clearing. Fuck the impending headache, Fae reasoned, if she was in danger, it would be better to have a fighting chance of where it was coming from. She took a deep breath and blinked, the scents formed a visual trail. It was a pale pink, it led down the path and then veered right and out of her reach, although it was strong, whatever it was, it was close, likely hoping to ambush a hiker for lunch.
A growl broke from her throat. It didn't smell like a cougar or bear or wolf, yet still it seemed inherently predatory. What was it? How did she defend against it? The anxiety was prickling her insides like she had a cactus in her chest, needles stabbing into the flesh of her lungs.
She quickly spared a glance to her shoeless feet. As fast as she could run, she surely couldn't get by fast enough on the rocky terrain to bolt home. A full shift, perhaps? She was small, the smallest wolf in her family and in her old town, most certainly the quickest too. But what was it?
Pale hands shook, she had to throw it off. If she got far enough, mabye able to confuse it at least temporarily, she'd be able to escape. Dark eyes glanced at the way in front of her. It wasn't too rocky, like the path had been before, even if she pulled off the path and into the thicket of the woods, A whisper broke her lips. "Cerridwen, help me."
Then she was off. Fae ran as fast as she could, straight ahead for twenty metres, then leapt over a fallen tree. She landed on her feet and kept going, deep into the grove of trees, across a small ravine, a damp, yet empty creek bed. Rolling under a wall of logs too tall for her to jump, that would take too long to climb, splashing through the shallow part of a creek in an attempt to lose the scent.
It was chasing her, she could sense it. The thud of rapid footfalls, a repetitive, one-two, one-two, bipedal? A person? No, no normal human could run that fast. Was she being chased by a bigfoot? Her heart raced, pounding against her chest with such force Fae momentarily believed it shattered a rib. Then, suddenly, there it was, the La Push smell. Wolf and earth and fresh air. There were several trails, each individual, yet uniform in manner.
It made her pause, mind aching, foggy and hyped up on adrenaline. She noted there was a large ditch, sort of oval in shape with a steep bank, at least two metres below the ground she stood on. Then, suddenly, she was thrown forward. An awkward noise, half growl, half frightened scream tore itself from her throat, there was something on top of her. Fae's pale blue sweater became streaked with mud and leaf litter, the wool snagged slightly on the rough ground.
Her head spun. She blinked, brown eyes falling into focus once more. This time it was on her attacker. It was a woman. She was beautiful, inhumanly so. Her eyes were a brilliant, violent red and skin pale and spattered with freckles like stars, long lashes, bone structure like a supermodel and lips plush and the same scarlet as her eyes, though, long, milk coloured fangs protruded from her straight white teeth. The illusion of beauty was shattered. The woman was something dangerous, feral.
Cold hands latched on her forearms, grip tight and like stone. Fae writhed beneath the cold force. Pale strands of hair, white like snow, shook, long and loose, they tickled Fae's lips. Her voice was saccharine, distinctly southern and stilted, almost like she was from a different time, "You run awfully fast, girl, but I do quite like a chase. I'll enjoy my meal."
Fae twisted her wrists, they ached uncomfortably and she buried her claws in the arms of the woman. The skin didn't break. Solid like marble, as cold as ice, they cause her claws to ache, Fae pushed them in further, they began to scrape the stone, leaving a harsh indent and half-moon shaped marks.
The woman on top of her glanced at the nails buried in her flesh, her lips twitched, up and then down and she leaned forward. Legs straddled Fae's torso, tight enough to ensure she couldn't move. The woman leaned forward, her lips hovered barely above her pulse point. So close Fae should have been able to feel her breath, but she couldn't. Ice filled her veins and she began to tremble, tears filled her eyes and her lips scrunched downward, the muscles in her face taut.
Her lips trembled. She'd die. She'd die here, alone in the woods. She didn't even get to say goodbye to her parents, her friends. Slaughtered like a sacrificial lamb by a strange, cold, cannibalistic woman. There was no chance to fight, run or even scream for help. No one would hear. No one was coming... but she couldn't die here.
The wolfblood snarled, she couldn't win, Fae knew that, but she wouldn't die, she couldn't die to this, this monster, not without a fight. The curl of her lips revealed her own sharp fangs, not quite as long, nor as sharp. A low and venomous tone escaped from her throat. "Get off."
The woman pulled back, her lips twisted into a malicious smile, "No, I don't think I will." She shifted her hips. Tears escaped from the girl's eyes. The hands restraining her arms were thrown forward, pinning them above her head.
If it was another circumstance, Fae would respond differently. Try and flirt maybe, crack a joke or say something stupid, but all she could feel was cold fear, coursing through her veins like water down a river. The woman chuckled, shrugging off the claws from her wrists. They left behind indents in her skin, harsh gouges, yet no blood. "What are you anyway? Fangs and claws, but no vampire, you run fast too. You smell like the wretched mutts, but you're not one of them either. Still, I don't mind, I like trying exotic foods, having a bit of fun too."
Vampire? Was that what she was? The woman leaned forward once more, she hovered over the pulse point in Fae's neck. The sixteen year old felt the tears slip over the edges of her eyes, and a harsh sob escape her lips. "Stop. I'm scared, please."
The monster on top of her laughed. Fae cried harder. She opened her mouth and pulled back, ready to bite down and no doubt end Fae's life. The girl closed her eyes and tried to scratch at the hands holding her down once more.
There was a scuffle, the sound of paws hitting the ground. Was her mother and father there? No! No. They needed to go, they couldn't, they'd lose and then they'd all die. Her heart constricted in her chest, violent and tight and she tried with all her might to kick the woman off.
More tears slipped from her eyes. The salted water, so warm against the cold she felt all over, carved ravines into her face, they slid from her skin on to the already saturated ground. There was growls and barks and cat-like hisses. The hands tightened on her wrists, Fae was scared they'd break., and then slackened. It was a cacophony of sound and action that left her already panicked and confused mind unable to properly piece together a sequence of events. Then, suddenly, the weight on top of her was gone. The thudding around her head forced her body to curl up in a foetal position.
Her eyes remained clenched shut against the sounds. Screaming. It was loud, too loud. Why was there screaming? If it was her family there, defending her, their pup, she couldn't just leave them to die. Fae took a breath. It burned her lungs, she rolled over, hands covered her ears. She had to face it, face the woman, the monster.
Brown eyes widened, what stood before her was not two normal sized wolves, no, it was four wolves. The shock had caused her claws to recede into her skin, fangs pulling back into gums, back to normal, human-sized canines.
"Cerridwen be merciful.." The turn of phrase slipped softly from Fae's lips as soft as the breeze on her face. How could the wind be so gentle, despite what had happened? All the violence? Her right hand drifted from covering her ear, instead it cradled her mouth. What was even happening?
Four wolves, as large as horses, the largest was as black as midnight, clearly the leader, a wolf of what seemed like pure silver fur, another a grey-brown, with a darker patch of grey fur like a mast around his eyes, and finally another, grey with patches of black. They all smelt overwhelmingly of the 'La Push scent'.
They had to be supernatural too. The stench of Forks was no doubt the smell of the monsters, La Push was the territory of the wolves. Of course she had to move to a place with both. Her teeth found purchase in her lip, she shook and stared at the scene before her, silent and unmoving. The woman was fast, bolting about and attempting to attack, yet the wolves held their ground, they seemed to be on an even footing, snarling and lunging nearly as quickly. There was a terrible ripping sound, and then, her hand was thrown across the ditch.
Brown eyes fixated on the limb. There was no blood, it just sat there, limp and heavy like a rock, nails long and sharp, claws of their own. Fae could see the flesh inside of it, pink and dry. Bloodless. Like the plastic forms of muscle and bone structure in a doctor's office. It was a sight that would scar someone for life. She remained unmoved, gaping at the scene before her, brown eyes wide. The noise no longer hit her ears.
The woman scrambled, the wolves tried to block off her exit. She veered left, and then, Fae was locked in a chokehold. A hand gripped her arm, it wrapped around her torso and held her at an uncomfortable angle, on a harsh lean. No, no! It couldn't be happening again. Fae shrieked.
The handless arm squeezed her neck tighter, forcing her to rest her head back on the woman's shoulder. The woman's teeth were close to her neck once more, the wolves pulled to a pause, as though they were afraid any move from them might force the woman to kill her.
Fae looked desperately at each of them, horror filled her gaze, she'd throw glances to the woman. She seemed invigorated, though there was a shakiness to her movements that offered insight to her mental state. She was reckless, reckless and scared, Fae noted. She was scared and using her life as a bargaining chip.
The wolves let out low, threatening growls. Tears fell without a hint of restraint from Fae's eyes, a shaky sob and fast breaths pushed against the freezing vice below her ribs. The woman snarled back her own, "Now, now, pests. Don't want me to cut up our friend here, do we?"
The wolves looked amongst each other, the all black one threw his head, the others' obeyed. They stood still, not doing anything. They weren't happy, but they weren't attacking. For her, she realised. They were stuck in an impossible situation against the woman that held her hostage.
"Good doggies." The woman tutted. Fae glanced back at the wolves. Her eyes locked with the patched wolf. It had brown eyes, brown eyes warm and deep and angry and fearful. Human brown eyes. They met Fae's own and there was a moment where it was just them. Her breath was not stolen by the woman constricting her airway, but by a feeling she couldn't quite place.
The arm tightened around her throat, Fae cried, her vision was growing spotty, black and fading out in places. It made her feel nauseous. Was this what dying felt like? The wolf stepped forward, an inhuman snarl revealed a row of sharp teeth and an unequivocal anger. The pack looked amongst themselves and stepped forwards too, it was as if they knew what was happening. What was happening?
She screamed as she felt her hands shake, claws shoving past her nailbeds in a way they never had before. Fae stuck them into the belly of the woman holding her, they stuck deeper than they had before. Was this what true desperation for life was like? She wondered, her gums bled and the taste of iron dripped down the back of her tongue, pooling in her mouth until she was forced to swallow it.
"She stinks of wolf too. A mate, I presume?" The creature laughed maniacally, "Oh, how tragic! This makes it all the sweeter. I'll kill her, suck her dry and kill you too."
Everything seemed foggy as Fae lurched forward. The arm around her neck loosened slightly, the woman moved it to push her back, higher, closer to her face. Fae's grin was a sick one as her elongated and sharp canines buried themselves in the flesh. They dug into the stone like a hot knife in butter.
The woman screamed and it was like music, her grip slackened and she threw her handless arm about, as if to shake the girl off of it. Fae released and bolted. The wolves set into the monstrous woman almost instantaneously. The creature would die, Fae was sure of it. She was up the harsh embankment and several metres away in the span of seconds, she lingered by the ditch until the woman's screaming subsided.
She saw limbs flung about, torn apart. Her hands, backed with dark veins and shaking, claws bit into the flesh of her palms. They were shaking, much more than they had both times before. She felt her eyes twitching, the marigold yellow overwhelming the brown. No! Calm down, calm down! She screamed to herself. She turned and began to run. Her legs were cold and covered in dirt. There was certainly a leech glued to her back. She had to get home. If there were more of that monster, or if the wolves saw her. Another non-human, they might slaughter her like they did to that monster, Fae did not know how they would react, nor did she want to.
She ran, following the way she came, the scent trails were markers of horror, yet she still followed them, even as her bones began to crack and pop and twist. It made the run very painful. Each step had her biting back a scream. Transformations, especially gradual ones, or in situations such as mid run were never fun. The shift was better suited for jumps, or still bodies. You weren't prolonging it that way, or forcing shifted bones and muscle to move in ways they weren't meant to.
Fae stumbled forward, then paws met earth and she was off. A dark reddish-brown wolf with a white underbelly, small and fast. She ran faster than she had from the monster. She needed to make it home, make it back to her pack, her home, where it was safe. Where she could lock all the doors and windows, shut the curtains and curl up on the couch, dressed in her mother's pyjamas and hide under the blanket that had once belonged to her nan and smelt of her dad, rest her head on the couch.
Fae hastily darted across the deserted road and into the front yard, the car was in the driveway. She felt like crying tears of relief. She barked and scratched at the doorway. Sean answered it quickly and Fae near pounced on her father, he let her in and called out for her mother. He locked the door behind her.
Marie padded into the room, Fae blinked and tried her best to envision her own face, the vague form of a human body. She didn't open her eyes until she felt each bone pop into place. She surely looked a fright. Covered in mud, hair tangled and knotty, leaves twisted into the strands of dark brown, her baby blue sweater was likely fucked up beyond repair, discoloured and wool messed up. The only thing she was fairly certain could be salvaged were her shorts.
Her parent's faces contorted as they cooed at her, "Are you alright pet?"
"Did something happen?"
"What happened?"
"Fal, come here. Marie get her a cup of tea." He turned to her, Fae curled herself into his embrace, it was warm and gentle, so unlike the beast of death that had strangled her in a cold touch. Brown eyes gazed into her own for a half second, concerned and searching, "Tea alright, pup?"
She nodded, and rested her head against his mop of tight curls. He sat down on the lounge and hugged her tightly. Fae cried once more, the tears slipped from her eyes, red rimmed and puffy with such ease. With all she had cried, she'd thought she would have run out of tears.
Marie came back. She sat the mug of tea on the table. It was earl grey, her favourite... in her favourite mug too. It was a pale violet ceramic, from Target with flowers carved onto it. Marie sat down beside the girl, she stroked the tangles of hair and worked the leaves out. Fae sat, she still cried, yet the scent of both of them near her worked to ease her anxieties, if only slightly. Marie leant onto her side, a warm and comforting weight.
There was near ten minutes of silence, the mug of tea had stopped steaming, yet the air around it was still warm. Fae took a shuddering breath and twisted. Her sides ached, they'd probably bruise. Marie looked at her, gently taking Fae's pale hand. "Drink your tea, we don't have to talk about it. Not tonight."
so a bit of trauma today - i think this was one of my most poorly handled chapters in the og, like i didnt expand nor did i utilize it to its full potential, so now we're at like 3.5k words instead of 700