Heartbeat // A Derek Hale Love Story (Teen Wolf)

The Barn

I'm back from camp, and I'm sorry this took so long, but thanks for waiting. Similarly, thank you for continuing to read! :D

Please vote and comment to let me know what you think!

- TAAF_

Song: R Shot Alive by Marco Beltrami & Buck Sanders

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"Dad!" I shouted, stumbling into the house, only a little blood still flowing fresh from my hands. Most of it had stopped.

I was fairly certain I'd left a trail of the crimson fluid on my sprint back.

"Yeah?" My father replied from the living room, I saw his head pivot.

"We-- we need to get Ophelia and Gingko into the b-barn." I wheezed, ready to collapse on the floor of my kitchen.

"What? What happened?"

"T-there's a bear out there." I gasped deeply, practically tripping over my own feet as I shakily picked up a cloth from the sink. "I climbed a tree to get away, it left after a while-- but that wasn't very far from here."

"The bear didn't do that to you--" Dad said warily, gesturing to the scratch-like marks on my hands.

"No, I tripped on the end of a barbed wire fence."

"Jeez--" Dad scoffed, taking hold of my wrist to examine my cuts.

As a surgeon, he definitely wasn't shy around wounds.

"I don't know why anyone would use barbed wire fencing out here."

"I don't either." I agreed, ignoring the sharp stinging in my palms. "Can you help me get the horses inside?"

"Yep." Dad said, turning away. "Rosie?!"

My fourteen-year-old sister came trotting out at our dad's call, her blonde hair up in a messy bun.

Rosie was already in her light blue pyjamas, shorts and a t-shirt, looking ready to go to bed.

"What's up?"

"Get your shoes on, we need to put Ophelia and Gingko in the barn."

"Why?"

"I ran into a bear on my run, don't want to take any chances." I explained, finally getting some of my wind back.

"Oh. How'd you--"

"Barbed wire." I huffed, deeming my hands okay enough to go get my horse. "I'm fine."

...

By the time the three of us got outside, the sun was down; the sky was stained with purple clouds.

I whistled to Ophelia, the dapple-grey horse grazing with Rosie's red horse Gingko, out in the lush field.

Ophelia was so placid, not a care in the world as she munched away next to Gingko, though she raised her head when I whistled two tones: one high, one low, the signal to come.

With that, her muscles under her smooth coat rippling, Ophelia picked up a languid canter across the grass, dew staining her legs. Ginkgo followed in suit, her hooves hitting the ground slower than Ophelia's had up to the fence.

As the younger horse, Ginkgo was more mischievous and less willing to follow instructions, much like her owner, Rosie.

On Ginkgo's reddish forehead, there was a white marking that looked a bit like a gingko leaf. At least, that's what Rosie said a couple years before when we got the horse.