Creatures

SEVEN

After an exhausting amount of walking, Ryn was cold and wet. She was shivering, nearly tucked into Jasper's side for heat.

"You're cold because you're so thin. Get off of me." He muttered.

Ryn was so shocked by the mean comment that she didn't know what to say. "Sorry." She murmured, keeping her distance.

Finally, they arrived across a small house with white clapboards. Ivy crawled up the sides, undeterred by human effort. It was rare for pack members to live so far away, but it wasn't like she was going to ask him about it.

He picked up a key out of the ivy covering the small porch, unlocked the front door. He opened the door, waiting expectantly for her to come in.

The aura was strange. So stark, yet so messy. There was nothing of personal value, nothing indicating taste, and anything that was in the room either wasn't even upright or lying on the floor. Not that there was much at all to begin with.

She looked at him, concerned.

"If you don't like it go back to your house." He muttered gruffly.

Ryn walked further into the house, and she heard the door close and lock behind him. She stood idly in what seemed to be a living room, though there was no couches or anything to indicate such. There was just a mattress in the middle of the floor with sheets awry and a comforter kicked off to side.

"Just," he held up his hands anxiously, "just sit. And don't... touch anything."

Very calmly, she sat on the mattress, still shivering.

He paced back and forth, muttering to himself.

Gods, he was a madman.

"I'm not crazy." He told her abruptly. "I'm fucking cursed. By your kind." He spat.

She stared at him.

"What?" He demanded, stopping his pacing. "Go do whatever it is teenage girls do. Go text all your witchy friends that you've been kidnapped by a monster."

"I don't have any witch friends." She said softly. "My mother was the only one I knew."

He winced, like something had stung him. "Car accident. Left you scarred. Hospital. Five months." Jasper suddenly blurted out, then started rubbing his temples.

She blinked at him. "You're an oracle." Ryn murmured. Everything made sense now. The sparse, messy house, why he lived so far from everyone else. All that activity would give him visions constantly. He would only keep around tried and true items that wouldn't trigger his sight. From what she knew, the ability was debilitating. Migraines, night terrors, social isolation.

"I'm cursed." He muttered again, holding his head.

The poor man was in agony. He must've been constantly.

She stood slowly, as to not frighten him, and walked in front of him. "I can help you." She murmurs. "I promise. It was one of the first things I learned. My dad even lets me do it and he hates magic."

His bright blue eyes flickered open watched her cautiously. "I'll kill you, I don't care who you are."

She didn't quite know whether the threat was for her not to use magic on him or for her not to harm him with it.

"I couldn't hurt a fly," she assures him, "ask anyone. You saved my life, the least I can do is save you a headache. I have no coven ties, see?" She pulled up the sleeve on her left wrist and showed him.

Finally and with a grimace, he nodded.

She lifted her hands to his face, replacing the fingers on his temples with her own. Ryn focused her energy and transferred it to him. After a moment, his shoulders sank.