The soft pitter-patter of rain echoed through the woods, droplets of water painting the skin of the two figures in the centre. One sat on a tree stump, her raven hair shining in the moonlight, her eyes bright in disbelief as she stared into her uncle's equally blue eyes.
It had worked. They had survived, but at what cost?
Peter Hale held a hand out for his niece to grab ahold of, and she did, allowing him to pull her off the tree stump and onto her own two feet. The leather jacket gifted to her by her cousin was drenched inside and out, lacking its usual warmth and comfort. The elder Hale pulled his niece into his side, keeping an arm around her shaking shoulders to help keep her upright on her feet. Her body felt like bricks and her eyelids felt like the rain, dropping all the same.
Her pale hands trembled as fear and adrenaline raced through her veins like wildfire, and goosebumps rose to the surface of her skin as the breeze blew harshly. The weather was chaos, as were the events occurring late in the night.
Trees swayed side to side and could easily be mistaken for seesaws from the kiddy parks around the not-so-quaint little town of Beacon Hills. The wind nipped at the bare skin of the pair's hands and faces mercilessly.
Peter sighed heavily as they began to walk through the forest, dodging fallen branches and trees. He carried the majority of his niece's weight as she stumbled on her feet, the numbness in her legs and body creating a wave of fatigue that washed over her like the high tide at the beach.
"I'm sorry," Amity whispered, barely being picked up by Peter's supernaturally enhanced hearing, "I shouldn't have dragged you into this mess. I should've just told everyone, and maybe it wouldn't have ended this way," she rambled, tripping over a root mounted in the ground.
The Hale man caught her swiftly, shaking his head, "You did what you had to do," he replied confidently, "They'll understand. They'll always understand. I'm just surprised you trusted me, of all people, to help you, though."
Amity lifted her hand and pushed a branch out of eye-line, letting it flick back into place as she walked past and let her hand drop back to her side, "I don't hate you, you know. In fact, I trust you with my life," she told him, her voice a little stronger now, causing Peter to look at her in confusion, "You saved my life in that fire. I'll always trust you," she muttered.
