𝐂𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐄'𝐒 return to La Push, Washington was meant to be spent in tranquility. A space outside of white rooms and beeping machines. A space where she can dive into the reminiscence of her care free childhood. However, her life fl...
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𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃𝐋𝐘 watches the lone wolf at the edge of the forest. Her view from the window allows her to see the droopiness of the gray wolf, its tail lays silently, with no wiggle of any sort of joy. Next to her, Sam sighs, draping an arm across his fiance's shoulders. "How long has he been out there?" Sam asks and Emily shakes her head, "I don't know. When I went to sleep he was there. When I woke up, he was still there." Sam sighs, "has he eaten? Has he moved at all?"
"I left some food out for him and he moved around a bit to use the bathroom. He's still limping," she looks over at Sam, "I thought he would be fully healed right now," Emily pities the gray wolf. "The elders said it could be his mental health waning him down. When we went on patrol earlier we could hear him the entire time. He feels guilty, feels like he didn't do enough for either Quil or Cecelia," Sam explains, still keeping an eye on the wolf. "You should talk to him," Emily says, not looking away at the wolf as well. Sam frowns, "he'll come to, he refuses to talk to anyone but Quil right now."
Outside at the edge of the forest, the wolf waits. Sometimes the wolf would give a low howl, willing for a response to come. Embry hasn't done much but wait. There's a dull ache in his chest of guilt, within days he failed two of his best friends. That night, after shifting back into human form too much in pain to keep up with Quil, the others aside from the Clearwater siblings carried Embry back to Emily's house. It was hard to address his wounds, he continuously refused and tried to resist their help, yelping that he deserved it.
"LET ME GO," He begged. Pulling away from his pack mates. "Embry! Embry stop! You're making it worse!" Paul shoved him down, but Embry continued to shake. "QUIL! QUIL!" He screamed. Whether it be a mix of the pain and the guilt, Embry began to go hysterical. "Please, please, please," he wept, and the boys mistook it for the physical pain he felt. "We're trying our best, but you're not making it any better. Just calm down alright," Jared struggled at the boy's strength. The adrenaline must be keeping his stamina up. "No," Embry's voice croaked, "I need to talk to Quil. I need to talk to Cecelia," he continued to beg them to let him go.
He deserved every fracture and every scratch. A sense of guilt wallowed in the other boys' chests as they realize why Embry was being so odd, so close to Cecelia. They pleaded with him and tried to bargain with him. After a while, the pain was too much, his fidgeting wouldn't allow them to heal properly and Embry had passed out. They took his state to their advantage and began to address his wounds, setting them in the proper place for the wolf genes to heal them.
It's been a few days since then, and when Embry came to he remained in wolf form. His coat was matted, tail drooped. He didn't feel like interacting or socializing with the other boys. Everything weighed on him. There wasn't much time to be vulnerable before when he first found out about Cecelia. He kept a front, denied the stinging in the corner of his eyes or the tightness he felt in his chest every time she looked at him. He chose to stay strong. Cecelia didn't need him to break down and he had no one he fully trusted to talk to about it, not without him feeling guilty about hiding it from Quil. Every time Cecelia smiled at him, Embry feared it would be the last.
