A walk would be nice, she decided, not a run like this morning. Was it just this morning that she had been out? It had felt like a lifetime since then. She wouldn't shift, not tonight. It was too close to the full moon. She didn't want to tempt fate. Tugging on a thick green hoodie, jeans, and woolen socks, she felt better. Calmer. More in control. She braided her wet locks into two tight braids and pulled on a grey knit beanie. The nights were growing colder fast and the last thing she needed was to catch a cold when she had to work the next week straight. She sneaked down the stairs like a burglar on her stockinged feet. Peering around the corner, she saw her grandmother fast asleep, mouth agape, and snoring loudly. Her long hair was unbound and flowed around the back of the chair like kelp in the ocean, swaying slightly with every deep-throated rumble. Willow smiled, her heart squeezing and left through the front door, holding her boots in her hands. Even though she wasn't in
After a deep sleep, Willow felt better. Slightly. The image of the wolf head still disturbed her but her resolution to keep a large distance between her and the Brochade family had strengthened here. Here is something that she can control. She will avoid their neighborhood and anywhere else that they are known to frequent, which isn't much in this town. The sun had just risen as Willow unlocked the café's front door. She is soothed by the smell of roasted coffee beans and the quiet of an early morning. Despite being tired, she loves working the entire day. Nothing quite feels as accomplished as seeing the business through from start to finish. Locking the door behind her, she walks to her small office in the back and dumps her purse onto her desk. Even though it has only been about a day, she feels as if she hasn't been here in forever. She runs her hand lightly over the back of her leather office chair, the first thing that she had purchased for herself after opening this place.
Tourists swarmed the town. With only a few days until the festival, people were pouring in, wanting to make sure they got a room at the hotel in town instead of having to commute in. The festival lasted all week but on The Fest of the Forest, the real celebration began and lasted all day. It was quite a sensation. People traveled from states away to visit and see the spectacle. It made Willow tear up every year. Many people came to pay homage to The Women of the Moon. What they thought was a folk tale was really the telling of Willow's ancestors. It always warmed her heart to see the people dancing in the streets, bedecked in all sorts of luminaries. She had been so busy she hadn't even had time to think of Garin. Much. It had been a few days since he had stopped here. She hadn't seen him since but every so often she caught a whisp of his scent outside of her door. Being busy had also meant that she hadn't seen a lot of Lyall as well but now, here he came, holding the door open for
The rain began to come down harder now. Garin was huddled underneath a tree, the cold rain had seeped into his thin sneakers. He was shivering uncontrollably. He wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to stay warm. He had eaten most of the food in his pack. It was only meant to last three days max. He had only a handful of granola bars and jerky left to get him through, but he had no idea how to get home. He had wandered for two days; the trail being washed out from the storm that had ripped through the mountains. He didn't know what he was going to do. He sat watching the rain pelt down, rivulets of water running down his face and into the neck of his sodden jacket. Willow was irritated. Lyall had come by every day while she was at work until she finally told him that she needed space. He was too distracting. He took it the wrong way of course but at least he had left her alone. She hadn't seen Garin in a while and was crestfallen. His scent was washed away with the freak sto
His scent wavered at the river. Willow bent down, digging her hands into the mud, and lifted it to his face. Thankfully, he had decided to not cross. It would have surely killed him. These were glacial fed rivers, numbing the skin within seconds of contact. He went west. She rinsed her hand and quickly dried it on her pants, stuffing it back inside the gloves she had grabbed as she left her house. This was a furious storm. Thunder echoed miles away, crashing against the mountains that separated them from the next valley. The river was rising, swollen and angry. Torrents of rain continued falling down. She could barely make out his footprints along a drier patch of mud that was slightly sheltered by an overhang of shale. She paused her herself, breathing in his deep, woody scent. He had trailed his hand along here, keeping himself steady. Her heart thrummed. She would find him alive. He had to be. The next part of this trail was the worst, it hugged the side of the cliff with no r
A large gust of wind shook the tent, waking Garin. His head pounded but at least he wasn't freezing anymore. In fact, he was incredibly warm and suddenly aware of the soft body pressed against his. He opened his eyes, thinking that it had been a dream. Her red curls were tousled all over the place, draping over her shoulders and his arm, which was very much asleep underneath her head. He realized he had been holding his breath, afraid to wake her. Her breathing was slow and steady, she still slept. Without waking her, he pulled his arm from underneath her head and rubbed it vigorously, trying to get some feeling back into it. Glancing down at her sleeping face, he figured the pins and needles were worth it. He swept his hand across her face, brushing away a stray curl. Yellow eyes snapped open and stared at him. He drew his hand back quickly as if he had been stung. "Sorry," he murmured, embarrassed. Her face was also flushed as she struggled out of the sleeping bag. He found h
Dawn broke brightly over the tent. Willow squinted against the glare. She looked over and realized that she was pressed against Garin's back. They must have moved together sometime during the night as if attached by a magnetic force. Part of her didn't want to leave. There was something fragile and tenuous between them here. Their families didn't seem to matter. Who and what they were didn't matter? It was just them. The few minutes she had spent alone with him had been more electrifying than the many years she had spent with anyone else. The initial danger that she had felt when they first met was gone. Perhaps it would be the death of her, but she found she didn't care. Sitting beside him last night, almost kissing him, made her feel more alive than she ever had. Perhaps it was the forbidden nature of him that so drew her to him. She knew that nothing good could come from it but here she was, playing with fire. She peeked outside of the tent. It was light enough for them to get
"Willow are you alright?" her grandmother asked, noting her distracted stare. Willow turned her eyes on her. "Yeah, sorry. I was lost in my thoughts," she replied, shaking loose the thoughts from the other day. She hadn't seen Garin since they met his family in the woods. She was still shaken by the hate and venom in his father's eyes. She knew hunters were their enemy. She knew it in her bones, but she had foolishly thought that those days were past. The treaty had been enacted a hundred years ago; her grandmother had penned most of it. She had encountered other Red Hoods before, but they were more civil, just stopping by every few years to make sure the treaty hadn't been broken and to share news with her clan elders regarding other parts of the world. It was tenuous at best, but it worked, and they never stayed. Until the Brochades came. With a shiver she looked down at her plate and began gobbling up the eggs there, hoping to leave before Lyall wandered in as he had been doin