Gael has always been an outcast and a weirdo - but when he moves to the small town of Imperium, he finds himself in the middle of a supernatural community, he didn't know he needed, or existed. It only becomes more interesting when the local hot vam...
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He's running. Not without purpose. We're on the prowl. Not for rabbits, but for dryads. So far, we've run into three who all just stared at us, wearing scarfs. One even had a little hat on top of one of their biggest branches. They all shooed me away, telling me to leave them alone. I was welcomed in their forest, but I wasn't welcomed to stand and stare. No one likes to be stared at, after all. It was helping me and the wolf though to catch a proper scent of dryads.
They smelt of dirt. Of bark. Dead leaves. They walked around leaving that scent all over the forest, but it was hard to distinguish theirs to what the forest usually smelt of. It was like a combination of all three, rather than the three smells being individual smells.
None looked like the other. All three were emulating different sorts of trees. Birk, maple, ash. All native to the forest so nothing out of the ordinary. But the dryad I had seen at the campus, both the wolf and I didn't recognise that. Its bark was darker, the trunk thick, the branches thin and almost swirly. I had also noticed pink flowers on it. I wished I knew more about flowers. Or trees. Or plants in general.
This was going nowhere, and I needed to get back anyway. Dawn would soon be here, and the full moon would be over.
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"Did you find anything?" Creek asked.
"Nothing. Or well, I met three dryads, but they were all wearing Mags' knitting so they weren't the one we're looking for." I shrugged and took a sip from my coffee.
"Knitting?" Liza asked, arching her brows. She resembled her sibling in so many ways. They had the same high cheekbones. Creek was shorter, but they looked practically like twins if it hadn't been for Liza's long kinky hair and Creek's buzzcut with a fade up their neck.
"Mags knits scarves and hats for them. The dryads get cold apparently and come to her for keeping warm. So that's how we'll know if they're the good ones or the one bad one. It doesn't go to Mags'."
Liza frowned a little and then went back behind the counter as a customer entered the bakery.
"What's your plan now?" Creek asked, eyeing the customer. A handsome boy, our age. I had seen him around campus before.
