He was walking on the sidewalk next to the forest. His face was turned upward, soaking up the light from the cresent moon that struck it. Suddenly, he stopped. He cocked his head toward one side, looking like he was about to make a very difficult decision.
A wolf howled in the distance, full of pain.
He blinked. He knew that howl. Turning he ran into the forest, stopping when he was a couple hundred yards into the trees. He looked around him, making sure that no one was near. After checking, he quickly stripped, the moonlight being his only cover. He folded up his clothes and hid them inside an old hollow tree.
He stared off into the distance, focusing on something that wasn't there. His features became blurred, changing so fast that a human eye could only see certain things. Dark brown fur sprouted, a tail burst out of the base of his spine, and his ears grew in shape and slid up to the top of his head. Soon the transformation was complete.
An almost fully grown wolf stood there, a patch of moonlight still hitting his face.
He turned, heading toward that painful howl that he had heard earlier. He bent his head downward, sniffing for the scent. Aha! there is was. It smelled like lilacs. It repulsed him. But he had to follow it, he knew what it was, and what it was doing.
The scent lead him around the forest in a strange pattern. He passed by the same tree three times. One bush had the all too familiar smell of blood on it, although it was a different smell that he had inhaled off of his father and brother after a battle with the others.
Suddenly, the smell disappeared in a clearing. It just wasn't there. Surprised, he took a step back. There it was again. Experimenting, he walked forward, and it was gone. Suddenly he knew what had happened.
She had gone up.
It was a trap.
A net was dropped on him as soon as he started to run. The vines that it was made of wrapped themselves around his legs, to his paws, then down into the dirt. He couldn't move.
Someone jumped from the tree to his left. A girl landed softly, barely making a sound. She was dressed in a pair of jeans that clung to her hips and a black tank top, the stap of her bra showing. Her short, wavy black hair was tangled around her face. The dark green eyes were filled with rage and vengence.
Without looking at him, she turned and moved deeper into the forest. He tried to move again, but the vines just tightened. Now he wished that he called for help instead of going off on his own.
When she came back, she had an armful of dried fallen branches. Quickly she made a campfire, careful to keep it away from the trees that surrounded them. Soon, the fire was blazing, casting an orange glow to the entire clearing. This time she turned to look at him. She smiled, but it was full of anger.
"Y'know," she said carefully, licking her lips, "I really hate your kind." She took a step toward him, taking her time. "You can't even wait for a battle, before you go and murder someone you just believe to be on our side."
He started, surprised. That couldn't be true. His side didn't do stuff like that.
She continued, pretending to not notice his reaction to her words. "He was human, I'll tell you that. That thing that your kind kept scenting around him was me." Now she was right next to him. Suddenly she turned and kicked his side. He cried out as he felt something crack. "So before you go off to harm someone you don't even know, get your facts straight."
She kneeled down next to him, and gripped his jaw between her fingers, forcing him to look at her. "Now, I'm only going to ask you once. Change back."
He stayed silent, not moving or making a single movement.
Realizing that he wasnt going to do as she demanded, she hit him in the face. He could taste the copper of blood, but he wouldn't let her have the satisfaction of him bleeding.
"Change back!" she screamed at him, and the trees moved in answer to her rage. "Change back! He died as a human, and so will you!"
That's what this was about. Revenge. He grimanced at the thought that she wouldn't end his life as he was a wolf, but she could defiantly make him wish that he was dead. The look that he saw in her eyes answered that his assumptions were true. He staightened his back, he wasn't going to make this easy for her.
Her eyes flashed. "Fine, then." she walked back over to the fire and picked up something that was lying about a foot away from the flames. It was a pocket knife. she returned to his side and gripped his right ear, tugging it tight upward. "Let's see what you say when you only have one ear." Placing the knife at the base of his ear, she moved it so it almost cut skin.
"Cassandra, what are you doing?" another female voice interupted. He couldn't turn to see, but judging by the expression on Cassandra's face, this new girl was a good thing for him.
"This isn't any of your buisness," Cassandra growled, dropping the knife and standing up. She glared at the other girl.
"Uh-huh, and now I'm making it my buisness," the other girl stepped forward. He couldn't tell much about her features because she was wearing a light grey sweatshirt and loose sweatpants. The hood of the sweatshirt was pulled up so her hair was hidden. She glanced down at him, her bright green eyes trying to tell him something that he couldn't understand.
"Just go away!" Cassandra screamed. She pointed the knife at the other girl.
"Yeah, sure." Sarcasm dripped from every word. Then her voice turned cold. "No, I won't leave. Let him go."
"He isn't a part of this. I'm sorry about Jimmy but--"
"Do not say his name!" Cassandra growled as she lept forward and slapped the other girl. Hard. She fell to the ground right in front of him. Her cheek was a nasty shade of red. He could barely see her dig her fingers into the dirt. He finally understood what she was trying to tell him.
The vines loosened around him.
The other girl stood up and turned to face Cassandra. "He wouldn't have wanted this."
"I said not to mention him."
Shrugging, the other girl replied, "No, you actually said to not say his name. I can mention him."
Cassandra shrieked in rage. Suddenly,the other girl's fists clenched. Thirteen thick vines sprouted from the dirt and struck Cassandra full in the chest. As Cassandra flew backwards into a tree a couple of feet behind her, the other girl turned and tossed the net off of him. "Run!" she pointed toward the forest.
He didn't need to be told twice. Turning, he hurried off into the cover of the trees. As he moved in an awkward manner because of what he thought to he a broken rib from when Cassandra kicked him, he jumped when he heard her scream in that same rage that she had directed at him. "TRAITOR!"
Tristan Caine jerked awake, the scream from his dream still echoing in his sleep fogged mind. It took him a moment to realize that he was in his bed in his room. The blanket was tangled around him as the customary with nightmares.
He hadn't dreamed of that night five years ago in the past couple of months.
Slowly he sat up, his left hand lifting to pinch the bridge of his nose. He could still see it so clearly. Suddenly, he shook his head. The memories needed to go away, but no matter how hard he tried, they just kept coming back.
Trying to keep them off of his mind, he got out of bed, and started to make his way to the bathroom across the hallway. He let out a few choice curses when he stubbed his toe on the doorframe. The bathroom had that smell of mouthwash when he picked up a paper cup, filled it with water, and drank. Suddenly he crushed the now empty cup in his fist.
He saw her.
Not Cassandra, he could see her all too clearly. The other girl. The nameless one, the one that had saved his life. As he made his way back into his room, he began to let his thoughts on her wander as they usually did. Who was she? Obviously she was one of them, but why did she save him? And the last one always held a spark of hope, something that Tristan didn't want to have about any of them.
Would he ever meet her again?
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