No one expects their life to change at the drop of a hat, not really anyway. There's supposed to be a grace period, or that span of time leading up to it, or even that whole procrastination bit. Thinking about it, I guess we did sort of get a warning that things were about to take a turn, but we never could have guessed it would have been so drastic...or so painful.

Kierra

Tuesday, 10:32 am

"Faline! Are you done yet?"

I swear if I have to 'request' for my sister again, she's not going to like the consequences. I need to check my email to see if my publisher has gotten back to me yet. The man is impatient if I don't answer back in a 'timely fashion', and I'll never hear the end of it.

"Just a second, I'm almost done."

I do believe she said that about an hour ago.

From the hallway entrance, I go the few feet back to my room, perturbed that I've been put off yet again. I'm hoping there's also a message from Tristan. We don't hang out as much since we graduated high school several years ago, although we still chat often. He's only a year older than I, but there are times that he pops out with some decent aged wisdom.

Pacing to release some pent-up energy, I glance out the window as I pass it. It's closed, annoyingly, showing me my reflection in its wake. I'm five-foot-four, thick, and muscled. Meaning I love my food, but I don't let that stop me from 'hanging with the boys'.

Long wavy hair reaching my lower back sways behind me as I move, the colors changing depending on the light. One moment brown, the next red or copper. Even have some natural black streaked through it. Just call me calico.

Glasses perch on my nose over light green eyes, concentrating on my steps as I wait impatiently.

"Faline!"

"Yeah, yeah, almost done!"

***

Faline

11:12 am

"I gotta get going, she wants the computer, you know how demanding she gets."

"Don't go, she can wait a little longer, please."

"She's already waited two hours, Nicolaus."

"Then meet me tonight, after sunset, I have to see you."

"I can't, you know that. She would freak if I left."

"Then I'll come to you, I'll be quiet."

"I don't know... I'll have to think about it."

After logging off, I gather up all my stuff from the computer desk, putting all my notes into a binder. Sliding backward on the swivel chair, I call for my sister.

"Hey, Kie? You wanna come here for a minute?"

After waiting for a few minutes, my older sister finally comes in, looking down with a distracted look.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, what d'you want?"

"I'm done with the computer. What's wrong?" I look at her expectantly.

Kierra looks up at me, shrugs, then walks back through the hallway that she emerged from. I sit there for a few seconds wondering what in the world's going on. Following, I find her in her room writing.

Whenever she's upset, mad, or troubled she ends up writing or doing some artsy thing. I've known her to go on writing or painting for hours at a time, especially since we moved in together out here in the woods. It's not much, but it suits our needs, which is privacy and lots of outdoor space. Even have a full basement. We live on the outskirts of Loves Park, past the partially closed down mall into Machesney Park. Kinda works for her whole eccentric writer-artist look too.

Her friends Tristan and Ava don't live that far away either, which was a major perk for her. I don't know very many people, but enough to say that I do have friends, like Nicolaus for example. I'm not sure just where he lives, but he says he's close.

We've talked for about a month and a half now. He knows a lot of supernatural stuff, which I think is really cool. Vampires, Werewolves, the paranormal, magic, he indulges all my questions.

We've gotten really close for only talking online. Kierra says it's cool and to just be careful. She's really protective of me, her baby sister, and usually tells me what's going on, but right now, she's being real evasive.

"Hey you, what's on your mind?"

I ask, not really expecting an answer, but hoping for one. She's laying on her bed, head down, concentrating intently on her notebook. I glance from it to the stack of notebooks on a small table against the wall. Rough drafts and shorts she'd gotten published years before her current set.

She stops writing and looks up at me, her bright green gaze guarded as ever, eyes that hold many secrets that anyone can only begin to guess at. Some would say they're jaded, but I can argue the personality behind them. She pushes her glasses up in habit before answering.

"Faline, I'm..."

She starts but stops to sit up, adjusting her glasses once more, then tries again. Right when she begins to speak, Tigger jumps onto her lap. She loves that cat to death.

He would have stayed with our mom, but he'd mope around her house all sad like. Tigger is an orange and white short-haired tabby. He has stripes and spots, kinda nifty really. Stroking the animal, she looks down at him.

"I'll be going out tonight; Tristan wants to talk to me about something or another and I'm not sure just what time I'll be getting back. I won't be going far, but I don't want you going outside. I've had a weird feeling since he called and I can't shake it. Can you do that?"

Kie looks up at me as she says the last. I blink at her for a minute, stunned. She's never left without me, even when she has to run to her publisher, and she knows it will take longer than an hour, she drags me along. She freaks out when she can't find me.

She'd told me before that ever since she and Mom were able to get me back from my foster care guardianship, that she's afraid to lose me again. Not to mention what she went through when we were younger.

We were both put into foster care at a very young age due to child abuse from Mom's old boyfriend. Lots of drama and thirteen years later, we reunited. After many different foster homes for each of us, separation at a young age, and juvenile for her when she was fourteen or so, I can't remember exactly. Our childhood was kinda hell and details have gotten skewed over the years.

Sitting next to her on the bed, my hand goes to her shoulder.

"You know, I am able to be by myself for long periods of time. I can even take care of myself; you don't have to worry so much. I can stay here, all by my lonesome, without my big, bad sis looking over my shoulder. Go see what Tristan wants, and I'll be here when you get back."

She grins at me.

"Come on, I am twenty-one, I can take care of myself."

Kierra's laugh is sarcastic, but I didn't mind. When she's happy, life is so much simpler.

***

Kierra

7:58 pm

"Alright, I'm heading out. Don't spend the whole time on the computer, read a book or something."

I give my little sister the sternest look I can manage with other things on my mind. After telling her that I'd wanted the computer hours before, I had gone to my room, and shortly afterward got a phone call from Tristan. He sounded upset, depressed, saying that he needed to talk to me about something, but it wasn't something he wanted to talk about over the phone or amongst company.

He'd asked me to meet him tonight in the woods, in a clearing near my house. I know the place he'd been referring to, it's a small grassy area that I had found and told him about. I remember thinking it weird that he knew where to find it since he's not an outdoorsy person. He's a city boy through and through. He probably told one of his friends about it, found it, then got high there.

We couldn't meet during the day; both had other things to do that were more important. So we agreed to meet at eight-thirty tonight. After hanging up the phone, I tried thinking about what he'd got himself into this time, to where he needed my help. There wasn't anything I could think of that he couldn't do himself.

Unable to come up with anything, I began writing, talked to Faline, then bounced to a commission I had started a few days before. I scribbled till I had to run to my publisher. Also had some other running to do so I dragged my grumbling sibling along with me. When we got back home, I started writing in the book that I'd been working on for a few weeks now.

When my sister had come in, I'd explained to her what was going on. She understood, I think. Being twenty-one, she's really small for her age. Barely five feet tall and maybe weighing in at a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, she's a tiny thing. With thin hair going to just below her shoulder blades, a red and blond that looks like a sunrise when she doesn't have it up in a ponytail, and soft hazel eyes with their blue and green starbursts, always looking at me with a bit of annoyance when I have to go somewhere that she doesn't want to.

When eight o'clock comes around, I'm grabbing a windbreaker and heading out the door. It's a clear late autumn night, a big half-moon in the sky already. Bright enough that I can see where I'm going without tripping on anything, not to mention the trees are pretty much bare by this time, so everything's pretty visible.

I hear all sorts of nightlife, from hidden crickets to owls playing peek-a-boo in the naked trees. I love the night, the crisp clean air, the calm, the beauty it holds. Actually catching sight of the large owl taking flight, I smile.

Trudging on, I'm trying to step lightly so I'm not so loud. Fat chance of that since the ground is covered in crinkly leaves. Running my hands along a few tree trunks as I go by them, the very texture acts as a peaceful balm. Looking up when several bats can be heard doing aerial acrobatics in their chase for food, then walking around a few pine trees so the needles don't get caught in my hair...again.

I wonder again what Tristan could want, but still don't come up with anything when I reach the clearing. Some old fallen logs were put in a semi-circle around a dug in fire-pit. I don't see him yet, being relatively early, so I sit down on one of the taller logs, gazing around and making sure there's no hiding skunks or raccoons first, of course.

After a while of staring into the fire-less pit, I hear a twig snap off to my left, I look over expecting to see a human male, but instead see a really big canine. Oh, goody.

It's staring right at me from under a tree, eyes catching the moonlight and making them glow. I sit still, not wanting to scare it away, startle it, or make it angry. Talking softly to it is fine though.

Crooning in a low voice, I ask it to come closer. When it does step forward into the moonlight, more details of the animal are revealed. It, no, make that a he, looks to have jet black fur, but it could actually be a dark brown in true light.

A long muzzle full of sharp teeth and shocking blue-green eyes. His eyes are what really catch my attention; a deep blue with green intermingling to look like ocean waters. When he's a few feet from me, I realize it's not a dog I'm looking at, but a wolf.

It's not possible, a wolf this close to the city? I'm not that far from Rock Cut, the nature preserve. Maybe a coyote? No, his body is too husky, too muscled. Too tall as well; I stand over five-foot and he would be around my sternum.

It's likely he's only half-wolf, probably mixed with a German shepherd or a husky, judging by the eye color. While the result is pretty, it's still annoying that people are breeding wolves with common dogs.

While lost in thought, I don't realize that he's come closer, now only inches away from me. Very slowly I reach out my hand, fingers slightly curled into my palm so I don't chance losing them, all while still talking to him.

"Hey boy, where'd you come from? Haven't seen you around here before. You're really beautiful, but you already know that, huh?"

Not really caring that I probably sound extremely stupid for asking a canine questions that it can't possibly answer, but what the hell, I talk to Tigger all the time. He even meows back, and I can just imagine his responses half the time.

A cold nose nudges my hand, then gives a tentative lick. I slide my fingers from the tip of his snout to the top of his head, then down to his back. I can't believe how soft yet coarse his fur is.

The thick coat that would keep him warm no matter how cold it gets. Fingers sink into the pelt, the thickness paired with his body heat warming them. For the first time, I notice that he doesn't have a collar, but almost like a silver necklace that has what looks to be a moon pendant. Weird.

His tail wags slightly as he looks at me. We're eye to eye at this point, if he felt the need to kill me, he'd have the perfect chance right here and now. I look him in the eyes, knowing it dangerous, that it's considered a dominance thing with canines, but still feeling compelled to do so anyway.

Those canine orbs seem to see more than he lets on, eerie in their human intensity. Almost as if he was trying to say something with them alone.

"I'm sorry."

Startled, I look around, hearing the snapping of twigs as footsteps come closer to me. Turning my head to see Tristan coming, I start to ask why he's sorry when the wolf-dog mix sinks his teeth into my left shoulder, tongue following after to get at the blood, then takes off the opposite way Tristan came. I cry out more in surprise than in pain as my friend runs over.

My shoulder feels like it's on fire; hot pokers being shoved through my skin. Can feel the blood dripping down my back and chest. I grip my arm above my elbow, holding it close to my body and look up to see Tristan frantically asking me if I'm alright.

I answer -

"You're late."