Fur vs Skin | on hold

18.

↠C h a p t e r   E i g h t e e n↞
TO BECOME ONE

❝There's a reason I'm alone.❞

▼▼▼

"How'd I do?"

The day trended by slowly, the hours consisted of practicing my handy work on the task given to me by Dyani. A few forgotten attempts lied in the snow by my feet, showcasing how often I've failed to create something so simple, all while Arsen created his own tower of make-shift leaf bowls. A tinge of jealousy shoots through my veins as I contain myself from pouting like a child at his obvious skill set.

Dyani shifts her eyes away from the child before her, briefly releasing the child to return back to their own task as they scurry back to their seat.

She examines my work— the holes poked through the texture of the leaf too big and wide for anything to be held together. Her brows slim brows twitch before she spares me a reassuring smile.

"You'll get used to it soon enough," she tells me.

I only sigh in response, relaxing my shoulders as my hands fall into my lap. I also take the small moment to give rest to my fingers, placing the horribly constructed bowl to the side as I bring them to my lips, blowing on them to warm the blood that's frozen beneath.

My gaze darts around the area, soaking in the atmosphere that has in a way, comforted me; my eyes wander to the far side of the clearing where Marcus and Santha still stood near the elders, their faces hidden from my sight. Are they talking about me? To interrogate me about the nameless... vampire? my mind wonders, still stricken at the exact that such a thing exists. Yet, here I subject myself to a community of Lycans.

Movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention as a small dark-skinned, ginger-haired boy removes himself from his seat on the log, darting in our direction to stand before Grey. He outstretches his hand, presenting his lopsided bowl with pleading green eyes. I watch as Grey sets aside her own work, soundlessly taking the bowl from the boy and easily fixing what he couldn't: tightening a know that was causing the loose framework. The child watches her as well, learning silently with his eyes.

Not even a minute later, she hands him back his artwork, not fully fixing what he couldn't yet leaving enough to where he could try on his own. An uncharacteristic smile forms on her face, her features not their usual scowl as she runs her fingers through his hair before ushering him away. The action surprises me, my gaze gliding across her face.

Maybe she wasn't as bad as I thought.

As if feeling my eyes brushing her skin, she flicks her gaze to the side, catching mine in a stare. The smile disappears the second we make eye contact, the look of disgust shaping and forming her face. The grey of her eyes molt to silver, narrowing as her lip curls up into a snarl and I make the quick decision of glancing away.

I take it back.

Her eyes burn through the surface of my flesh, her unhidden dislike for me radiating through the air and slicing at my skin like tiny needles, pricking me. I clench my hands in my lap, unsure of her reason for such dislike for me when I haven't done anything to earn it.

The word 'half-breed' unknowingly rings through my ears.

Arsen rumbles beside me, seeming to have caught her stare as I catch a glimpse of him glaring at her with his own sense of emotion from my peripheral. A small tsk is followed by the sound of shuffling snow about as she rises to her feet. The wind within the area picks up, brushing her tresses over her shoulders, squaring them with a rise of her chest.