Kierra

My head is going to explode.

Legit, explode.

Everything hurts, inside and out. The light wheezing I'm doing is a little concerning, but it isn't a wet wheeze, which is good. Means no punctured lung.

I keep my eyes closed, as even they hurt. My ears and nose are good enough right now, they hurt too, but it's not like I can close them...technically.

Can hear birds chirping, faint sounds of trickling water, and wind playing through foliage. Smells are full of earth, fresh dirt, tree leaves...myself.

That might sound weird to you, but let's see what you smell when you have a face full of bushy tail. Not hearing or scenting anything that could be remotely dangerous, my eyes slowly open. I assure you, I'm groaning right now, nothing can be heard from me, but it's there.

This getting into trouble thing is way overrated. Think I'd like several weeks of quiet time in my home. Here's to hoping that comes true just as assuredly as my want for trouble did.

It's dark, but I'm also facing a dirt wall. I raise my head, wincing when it warns me it's still tempted to explode. My neck gives complaint as well. Hell, my whole body feels like I got hit by a truck.

Memory sparks. I did get hit, just not by a truck. Don't know make or model, just that it wasn't overly big. If it had been bigger, I'd probably be dead. My whole right side lets me know I went sliding over pavement for at least a few feet.

Really hope whoever was in the vehicle is okay, I hadn't stuck around to find out myself. My left side is throbbing from the impact, probably the side with broken ribs. Again. Laying my head gently back down on my forelegs, memory blanks start to fill in.

My body had felt like it was fighting itself. I couldn't deal, so I let my inner wolf take the reins for a while. My mind was still conscious within, just not the one driving. The combination of the reaction towards Vamp fluids, mind having a breakdown, and the building power within me did not mix well. I didn't even know about this 'power' until the wolf was let loose, then I could feel it, almost see it.

Not just the magic of the Werewolf itself, but something more, something deeper. One of the pieces of knowledge I was able to tap into was of an instant shift; the ability to shift into any of my forms instantly.

The drawback is the crash when I revert to human; if I shift multiple times but don't go human, it builds the length of time in which I will be knocked out. If I don't go human for the crash at some point, it will start affecting me in adverse ways. Knowledge of just what those ways are was not forthcoming.

After running from that house, the remembered scent of that cellar brought forth massive waves of fear from my wolf. Something unnatural happened there. Then a need to run, run from everything.

At some point I lost Asher, he was with me for a time, trying to direct me in my headlong rush into oblivion. At another point I came across a pack of wild mutts, the blood I was covered in made it so I couldn't run without them tracking me down.

I fought off five dogs, my size and thick fur protected me from much of their bites and claws. A couple of them were more enamored and wanted something else, which caused them to start fighting each other. In the confusion, I took off.

I'm not sure what body of water I found, could have even been a pool for all I know, but I had the sense to wash all the blood off. Wait, nope, wasn't a pool, since I had swum for a while. Think I crossed the river. Explains some of my funk.

After coming out of the water, I had run for miles, the thought of staying away from Asher paramount. Not sure why, aside from the herding he had tried to do. Using body, teeth, and claws when I became stubborn.

Which was probably most of the time knowing me. Poor wolf is gonna think me super high maintenance or something. I'm hoping the reason he had disappeared wasn't that I lost him as much as he went back to Bastion.

Thought of the boy had tried surfacing at one point but got pushed down from the wolf driving my body. Another several miles were gone before finding a spot to hide in, from what I recall seeing on the way here, I'm in a park.

With my head up, there's a clearance of half a foot above me, so I have to crawl out of here. Looking around my hole, it looks like a burrow, made bigger from some digging. The opening curves to the left, so the wind wasn't coming right in at me, keeping warmth in a small area. I stretch with a little difficulty and inch my way out. It's morning, still early. Before noon I think.

The mouth has a lot of brush around it, hiding it from view, yet still looks naturally made. The bite wound on my inner foreleg is closed, the same with the ones on my neck. With all the craziness of yesterday and throughout the night, they got the chance to drain properly and heal.

Really need to get myself checked for bugs though. From the underbrush, wild dogs, and river, there's no telling what's crawling on me. The very thought causes me to shake my body hard as I stand.

The pads of my feet hurt. Unlike popular belief and told stories, a Werewolf is not all-powerful when they become one. There is a major learning curve and time needed for a body to get used to the rigors and abuse a wolf form can put you through. Strength is always there, you just have to learn how to use it.

Like my feet, for example, it takes time for the pads to truly harden to deal with all the pavement I went over. Wooded and grassy areas are no problem, but hard, rough rock and stone, not so much. Railway tracks even less so with the sharp stones they seem to be surrounded with. Vaguely recall I had followed one for several blocks.

A faint taste of sweet blood in my mouth is hopefully from something wild and not domestic. I really don't want to be the cause of some kid losing their cat, or dog. After checking over my feet and making sure I don't have any open cuts on the pads, I take a better look around me.

This late in the year most places are pretty bare, but here there's a bunch of different types of pine. A dying willow's leaves brush the ground a distance away. Looks old, as do many of the trees here. The burrow I'd been curled up in is at the base of one of the thicker pines.

The needles suck when human, but are kind of worse when animal; they get caught in fur, especially if the sap is seeping from them. I have a few stubborn ones poking out here and there, but I don't worry about it. I'm not that vain, promise.

Pulling my way out from under the giant, wide tree, I start to recognize the layout. Not that I've been here, don't think I ever have anyway, but when you've already been to a few, all campgrounds have the same look to them. Don't get me wrong, each one has its own charm, but they all have that likeness to them, a smell, a feeling.

The question now is, which one am I in? The biggest one closest to my home is Rock Cut. There's a few others that are close, but their names elude me at the moment as I look around. The air smells crisp, but tinged with river and cooking fish. Gross.

On this one thing, both my wolf and I agree; cooking fish smells disgusting. I sneeze and shake my head, trying to get rid of the offending smell. Doesn't work though, so I turn and go the opposite way. There should be some kind of advertising board up somewhere, one covered in maps and camp activities that are available.

I watch carefully for anything around me, ears erect and alert. My nose is still full of rank fish, so it can't help me much. It's pretty quiet, so either it's a very large park, or they're having a slow season.

Attempting to circle around and catch my own trail, I actually do find it and follow it. Going in several wide circles before it leads away, my inner wolf is a cautious one it seems, too bad I'm really not all that much. A couple yards from my own scent, there's a large corkboard half-covered in Plexiglas, the other half full of papers.

The glass-covered part protects the map. Turns out I'm in 'Big Hill Park'. Doesn't sound even a little bit familiar. Only showing things within the park, it doesn't even give me an exit to head to. Glancing over the papers reveals a major clue.

Well shit. I'm not even in the right state.

Granted I'm not like, five states away or anything, but still. I should be in Northern Illinois, but instead, I'm in Southern Wisconsin. Far more north than I should be. No telling how many territories I went through.

Fuck.

Here's to hoping I don't have any trailing supernaturals.

I need to get going, and fast. I had to have followed the river here, so I make for it and go back from there...right? How could I have gotten this far without being caught? I mean, hell, if I can pick up my own scent, then someone else can too.

I'm not horrible when it comes to tracking, but I'm not all that great either. I'm still in training...and I've run from my trainer. Groaning sounds in my head, as well as a low whine from my throat.

If Asher doesn't ditch me soon I'll be majorly surprised. And Bastion...that poor kid. When I get back I have to teach him how to defend himself. I don't own a gun, I refuse to, but I'm very good with knives. Just have to brush up a bit on my skills since I haven't had the time to lately. Not just since this all happened, but with my last book having taken off so fast. I shake my head hard, need to focus on the here and now, or more trouble could happen.

Making it out of the park is easy, now for the tricky part. I stop and look over the area I need to go through. Swamp and prairie for a good couple miles at least.

When I think of swamp, I think of the Louisiana bayou. This isn't that, it's more a very tame bog or the like. Either way, my scent is coming from it, so I've already been through it once.

Only a few stumbles and a lot of curses later, I'm on relatively solid ground and going through the grassland. Rabbits and mice catch my attention, a few dozing deer and a very cranky woodchuck. I'd be grumpy too if some lout almost stepped on me and my home.

Never in my life have I had to run from such a small animal. Rodent teeth are very scary when coming at you like some kind of rabid hell rat. Teeth like that can snap a leg within moments. I had hamsters when I was younger and I remember how their chompers chisel when they bite down.

Only thing I had going for me during that whole woodchuck fiasco was I didn't make a peep. Tough as nails Werewolves don't 'eep' at creatures lesser than ourselves.

Right. Watch me prove that wrong someday to my utter shame.

Of course sometime later I start getting hungry, and woodchuck actually sounds really good. I laugh to myself, keeping up a steady pace onward. Buildings start becoming visible in the distance to my right side. The smell of food wafting from one is not helping. Won't see me begging for scraps from anyone, so I keep going.

My heart sinks at the sounds of heavy traffic ahead of me. I've gotten hit once already, really don't care for a repeat performance.