𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄, divinity is a wretched fate.
Dreary Forks is a cramped town beneath a near constant overcast sky, enshrouded in evergreen.
Like every small town, Forks is rife with gossip. Most children's grandparents grandparents had b...
CHAPTER ONE. ( i. if you go down in the woods today )
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TO YEARN FOR A PLACE has always been Zachary's primary form of longing. Some pine for another's attention, others frankly don't desire much at all. Zachary has always found that intense desire has bloomed in the contours of a location or perhaps in a deeper sense, belonging. The Reservation has somewhat provided, because Zachary hasn't ever quite felt out of place there though perhaps his Father's early ties to the Quileute Tribe has paid some contribution. Though, it isn't much of a topic of conversation. The scandalous affair between Andrew's Great-Great Grandfather and a Quileute woman that fled the Reservation to be with him. Zachary didn't much like the awkward discussion nonetheless, so he elects to place the blame onto an unrelated note that it must have something to do with a more recent affair, Joshua Uley's, and therefore that has simply sparked a memory of the last interesting scandal to happen on the Reservation.
Whenever he was younger, Andrew would murmur in his only child's ear to avoid those that Andrew didn't associate himself with; mostly out of respect for the past that the elders cling so tight to. He didn't understand then, and frankly, he still doesn't now, but Zachary can at least pinpoint every stare that finds the back of his head on the Reservation to belong to the beady eyes of somebody generations older than him. Zachary has never asked why they watch him. Instead, Zachary soaks in the land. It's undeniably beautiful. In a way that is unlike the rest of dreary Forks. Somehow, he feels the forest thickens but the paths are much wider, stomped by footfalls much bigger than his own feet and Zachary senses eyes amongst the trees, weaving through the towering evergreens that reach for the still gray skies overhead.
By the shoreline, the Quileute beach is unlike the others. It's still cold with frigid air, and it has the same cloudy waters but the froth that foams the sands and pebbles salts the air. This air is crisp, and Zachary's hair frizzes beneath it as he tastes it upon his tongue and he feels, perhaps dumbly, that everything is heightened. A lazy smile curves at the edge of his rosy lips, but Zachary's stupor is snatched from him with the splatter of wet sand spraying along his turned back as he gasps at the icy temperature, growing rigid in his jerk away. Seth's laughter is boyish, giggly and shrill with his squeals as he scrambles quickly back in paranoia that Zachary would seek revenge with a snap of his head to find the younger boy.
Before Zachary can retaliate, his grin deepens with a poke of dimples in his cheeks whilst Leah nears her little brother in a prowl behind his oblivious shoulder and then in a jolt of seamless motion, Leah pries back the collar of Seth's oversized tee and drops a handful of the same sapping sands down his unsuspecting back. A laugh tumbles boisterously from Zachary's tongue with the bulge of his eyes as Seth shrieks, thrashing against it as he tries to billow his shirt to release the chilled sand before he's whining, loudly, "Leah!" The sister smirks, and her hand rises for Zachary's own whenever he awards her with her desired high five with another snicker that betrays the apologetic attempt in Zachary's eye as he lifts his hand to stifle his laughter.
