Wolfblood ━ TWILIGHT (being rewritten)

01

The moon was a crescent, bathing the night in its near blinding white glimmer. The pale milky light caressed the trees and earth beneath it. It beamed in through the large glass window. The girl pulled her doona further across her shoulders, she closed her eyes slowly, savouring the warmth and the lunar light seeping into each of her cells. It was like the lunar deity was greeting her, welcoming her and her family to their new home.

The stars twinkled, she smiled. She hadn't wanted to go. To move so far from her home, her friends and family and ancestors, gone across a sea and a continent, she'd thought she'd feel so alone, cut from her heritage, yet as she stared up at the barely risen crescent moon and searched for anything familiar, she did not feel as isolated as she thought. She could feel Cerridwen was there, ever present. Inspiring and encouraging her with each breath, each sound, each step.

The smell of wet soil and fresh petrichor lingered in the earth, in the woods across the street from their house. It was savoury and familiar, exciting, although the teenager was eager to explore and learn each individual scent of the town, she couldn't help but dread the impending headache and nausea. The nightmare that was Seattle airport was bad enough, as was the drive to her house in La Push, Washington. They had to go through another little neighbouring town less than five minutes away from their house, likely no more than half an hours walk through the woods either, the teenager would guess.

Forks stunk, literally. It stunk of something sweet kind of like burnt sugar, sour oranges and soggy, overripe strawberries, it was strange and burnt her nose and evidently her parent's too, given the way they winced each time they inhaled and stared intently at the moving van in front of them, willing it to go faster. La Push was much better, although it did not hold a neutral smell either, it was much more agreeable, earthy and warm, pine needles and oak bark, salty like the nearby beach and something the teenage girl would describe only as wolf-y, although different than the typical wolf smell of her kind or a genuine wolf. It wasn't bad, just unusual. It made her anxious, whining like a scared pup when it grew stronger.

It was barely evening on a Friday in the middle of January. The slight chill of an early autumn slowly beginning to creep in. It wasn't likely to be too cold, even with the near constant drizzle of rain, thankfully, but the girl always tended to shiver regardless of the actual weather. Her breath fogged up on the glass as she continued to stare out at the nothingness beyond her.

Boxes of stuff littered the floor, some full, a few half-empty, and a pile of empty, deconstructed boxes forming a pile at the foot of her twin sized bed. The only real furniture in the space was her bed, nestled into the corner by large, outfacing window, the side table and her dresser, pressed by the door. It seemed entirely devoid of any real personality. So empty. It smelt vaguely of mothballs. The carpet was a pale cream. The only thing that really told of her room was her sheets. White and olive gingham, her quilt covered by a similar tone of green and splattered with orange and navy dinosaurs. The teenage girl was meant to be unpacking her stuff, and had managed some of it before getting distracted by the moon rise.

Her hand travelled to her face, rubbing at her nose, though she stopped as the heel of her hand nudged her teeth. There was a hard mass beneath it. She reached in and felt it, a canine, long and sharp, pointed out more than usual. She blinked and looked at the back of her palms, black veins and claws drawn. When did that happen? She wondered, taking a large deep breath. The pressure of her expanding lungs on her ribs was familiar and comforting. Her voice warbled as she began to hum a familiar tune, all the while thinking, calm. The girl was snapped from her reverie by a booming voice echoing through the house. "Fae!"