Wolfblood ━ TWILIGHT (being rewritten)

02

Bare feet stomped softly on the damp soil, footsteps light and careful to avoid puddles or patches that looked slippery. A line of ants marched across the Gaia forged pathway, the path, brown earth, leaf litter and small sticks and rocks of all shapes and sizes lingered on a natural carpet. A damp, sweet smell of nature and regrowth lingered in the air.

Pale arms flailed about occasionally, like the waving tube man out the front of used car dealerships. The awkward stones or sharp twigs cut into the soles of her feet. Never enough to draw blood, the soles of her feet were tough, yet the ache still resounded, twinging like a guitar string and reverberating up her legs and left it feeling like Fae Smith had accidentally stepped on a pile of lego. It was a humid day.

Her nose inhaled the scent of the forests in La Push. The teenager accounted the things she could sense around her. She could see trees, pine, cedar, oak, redwood and more. She could smell rain and earth, that unique wolf quality she had so eloquently dubbed the 'La Push smell', along with hints of salt water from the beach nearby. Her ears pricked at the distant sound of crashing waves. Of the bear going about it's day, the squirrels and raccoons gathering, the deer grazing.

There was a flapping in the trees. Her head shot up instantly, brown eyes locked on a bird, a sparrow, as it beat it wings swiftly from its perch on a branch. The bird looked back at her, confused. It titled its head, Fae mimicked it. It jumped, free falling for a few tenuous moments, although just as Fae had begun to fret, it extended its wings, feathers caught the draft, and then, with a few flutters, the bird disappeared above the canopy. Fae let out a chuckle.

That chuckle grew, louder slightly, more nonsensical in nature. What a silly creature, she thought as she wrung her hands. She laughed until her ears pricked and a smell overwhelmed her nose. It was like the Forks smell, sweeter though, strong and kind of like the overly strong perfumes worn by elderly women. The principal at her old school used to wear something that smelt like it.

Fae felt the strange sensation, not quite painful yet not exactly pleasant of her nails hardening and pushing forth from her cuticles. Long and sharp claws, brown eyes glanced at her hands. The back of them was smothered in black veins. The frightening sound of multiple birds shooting up into the air had her near jumping into the air and left her with a growing sense of anxiety. Danger was near.

The edges of her lips pulled down and she felt the frown begin to tremble, dark eyes, flecked with the marigold yellow and gold like the sun darted about the clearing. Fuck the impending headache, Fae reasoned, if she was in danger, it would be better to have a fighting chance of where it was coming from. She took a deep breath and blinked, the scents formed a visual trail. It was a pale pink, it led down the path and then veered right and out of her reach, although it was strong, whatever it was, it was close, likely hoping to ambush a hiker for lunch.

A growl broke from her throat. It didn't smell like a cougar or bear or wolf, yet still it seemed inherently predatory. What was it? How did she defend against it? The anxiety was prickling her insides like she had a cactus in her chest, needles stabbing into the flesh of her lungs.

She quickly spared a glance to her shoeless feet. As fast as she could run, she surely couldn't get by fast enough on the rocky terrain to bolt home. A full shift, perhaps? She was small, the smallest wolf in her family and in her old town, most certainly the quickest too. But what was it?

Pale hands shook, she had to throw it off. If she got far enough, mabye able to confuse it at least temporarily, she'd be able to escape. Dark eyes glanced at the way in front of her. It wasn't too rocky, like the path had been before, even if she pulled off the path and into the thicket of the woods, A whisper broke her lips. "Cerridwen, help me."