MOONLIGHT MAKES HIM CRANKY (Preview Now On Goodnovel, and Webnovel)

Chapter 18: Into The Deep Woods

Chapter 18: Into The Deep Woods

The Deep Woods, Outskirts Of Timber Creek School Of Fine Arts, Wakefield, U.S.A...

       It seemed like all they had been doing since the moment class began was running amid long and looming trees and cold dirt that made the hairs on the back of Porter's neck stand on end. He had doubled over from the lack of air and took a few moments to catch his breath as his heart raced and sweat drenched his body causing his dark hair to stick to his face and forehead. He had not been so sure his instructor had known what he'd been doing forcing them all to head into the woods on a strange run with the bulk of the class getting lost due to disorientation and general unwillingness to keep running. As he fought to get clean air into his burning lungs, it had occurred to Porter, at least in part as to why this class in particular would be taking up most of the day according to the schedule.

Feeling the class was getting further and further away the longer he lingered, he opted to continue running after them blindly moving about in the woods for the first time in his life. His senses had been bombarded with various scents and markings that made him wrinkle his nose in disgust as he moved becoming more lost amid the trees and roots as he moved.

He had not been very adept at nature walks let alone walking in nature and as a result his less than nimble feet ended up tripping over a rather fat upturned root and Porter fell hands first onto the ground but not before twisting his right ankle. He hit the ground hard, finding himself covered in dirt and dead leaves amid broken twigs and bits of bark. He'd been alone here and terrified all things considered. One thing had been for certain, he had not been too fond of his new werewolf-oriented class nor the fact that he'd been one.

He had missed being behind a large wooden desk with the scent of dust and musty old pages from books for company. Not to mention the light and indoor plumbing that came with being indoors. Far away from the elements of nature which included bugs, the smell of stale piss from who knew what, and giant looming trees that seemed to have it in for him the moment he stepped into the woods.

Porter had been at his wit's end as the throbbing pain from his ankle continued to get the better of him. He didn't know what to do despite the instinct to howl, but his rational mind had not wanted him to alert anything that could possibly bring him harm in his weakened state. He tried several times to crawl his way through the roots and dirt but it was to no avail, the onset of white-hot pain shooting up from his twisted and bruised muscles clouded his mind and his body responded by tensing and becoming heavier.

Porter had been terrified that he wouldn't be able to make it out of the woods and back to where the other werewolves had been located they had gotten farther and farther away from him the longer he'd been out of commission. The fear and frustration must have been easy to pick up on because he began to hear rustling in the distance and instinct had him growl so as not to ensure whatever had been thought him to be easy prey.

For a moment, Porter had begun to regret his choice in coming to this place. He'd been so desperate to leave behind his old home and his old life that he'd taken the first opportunity that presented itself. He recalled feeling trapped and desperate before, more or less all of his young life if he'd been honest.

Living back home with Klinefelter Syndrome had not been ideal and his father only seemed to always make what he endured because of it all the worse. Porter had recalled a time when he'd been home sick from school and his mother and brothers were out. Clark had been drunk off his arse, as per usual on any given day since he'd been laid off at his factory job, he came stumbling into Porter's room, a twisted grimace on his face as he gripped his precious bottle, which had been half empty following his latest binge.

Porter had been tossing and turning when he heard the ranting and raving of the drunken Clark who seemed to grow all the more furious as he neared his bedroom. Before the boy knew it, his father had pulled him out of bed and slammed him into a nearby wall. The sudden onset of burning pain had been enough to make him crumple to the floor as he scrambled to look up into the blazing red hate-filled eyes of the man who had been his father.

Clark had taken it upon himself to pour the remainder of his bottle on Porter as if he'd been nothing more than a bug waiting to be squashed by his brutal heel. Porter never thought in a million years that his father would treat him as terribly as he had that day and it only got worse when Clark began pulling off Porter's clothes and stripping him down ignoring his illness. Porter's body was weak and he could hardly put up a fight in his condition as he felt his father's harsh glare on him and the cold air from having his formerly warm clothes discarded by force.

He felt the heat of shame and humiliation to no end fill his body as well as a rage he had not known he had in him. He shoved the old bastard as hard as he could causing him to stumble back and hit his head on a nearby dresser, then ran out of the room as fast as his legs could carry him and hid in a downstairs closet until his mother came home wondering why he'd been there.

Porter had begun to feel the same rage and humiliation from that day building as he found himself hearing his father's harsh words echoed in his mind amid the darkened forest. He had been helpless once more and in a good deal of pain as the scents of the woods bombarded his nose and overly stimulated his senses making it impossible to quell the panic in his wolf brain.

He'd been incapable of logic at this rate, a rather detrimental thing when one had been lost in the dark. Porter had been on the verge of giving up all hope of being rescued when he caught a familiar scent that seemed to ease a bit of his tension.

Conway.

His rather active and flaring nose had recognized the scent of his hulking roommate Conway Rollins.