Days of Remembrance 4

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Lappland casually leaned against a street pole, hoping she didn't look too inconspicuous with the popped up collar of her coat and the hoodie covering her head. While she had been accepted into the Texas Pack —thanks to Gran— it was still weird showing her face so blatantly around the other Texas wolves. Many of those whispers had slipped past her ears, about how she shouldn't be here. They aren't exactly wrong.

Because Lappland wouldn't be anywhere if not for Texas.

Texas, who had saved her.

And speaking of the dark wolf, she was inside this little building in front of her, doing what would hopefully be the first step in forming their small 'pack'. The wind whistled with the chimes of summertime. The heat was strange after the bitter cold of winter, turning the whole pack territory into a heat box as glass absorbed the light and baked the citizens dwelling in the spaces between. Lappland scuffed her boot on the ground, humming to herself as she waited, and waited, and waited.

How much longer is this going to take?

Maybe she was just being impatient, but as the seconds dragged on Lappland became increasingly bored. Her thoughts drifted off to a realm of possibility till her chittering sound drew her attention to a tree. Across the street, a squirrel chattered amongst the healthy branches of a willow tree. The Hunter in her made her stomach rumble. How long had it been since she caught her own prey? Her parents had been alive then, surely. Lappland felt the brief twinge in her heart at the thought of them, determining the squirrel to be to blame. And as she stalked down the uneven stone steps and across the street she felt those beady black eyes on her.

They seemed to be challenging her to approach; they dared her to come get it.

Because she never backed down from a challenge, least of all from a squirrel.

Lappland growled, a low, dangerous thing that would sound far more dangerous with age.

"You there, you shouldn't challenge me. I am Lappland, the most dangerous wolf ever. And I have seen things you could only dream of." She pointed one raging finger up at it. The little creature had the nerve to remain on its spot in the low branch, thinking it was so high and mighty. Clearly the prey in the city doesn't know fear. I ought to teach it. One hand subconsciously drifted to her sword, only to retract when that light gray tail waved at her.

It's mocking me! How dare it! Her growl deepened. "If you're going to keep mocking me then I have no choice." She uttered.

Thunk.

The nut, the stupid little nut this idiotic squirrel was carrying, fell from its paws. It hit her right in the center of her forehead. "Ugh." She sputtered.

"Squeak, squeak, squeak."

The little cretin was laughing at her. It had the nerve to do such a dumb thing.

"That's it!"

Not using her swords —because why use them when you had the natural hunting instincts of a wolf— Lappland leapt into the tree, teeth bared in a snarl.

"Ahhhhhh!"

"Lappland? What are you doing?"

The sudden voice had her head crashing into the tree branch on accident. With a cry of pain she slipped and crashed back onto the earthy ground, the devious little squirrel disappearing from view. The world spun for a few moments, blues and greens and browns mixing as footsteps approached and made the ground vibrate. The figure standing over her was familiar, yet strange to see all the same.

"Ontario?" She groaned. "What are you doing here?"

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the leaves, making her eyes blink to press out the invasion of light. In the middle of those blinding spots a hand reached out to her. A vein crawled up to a tanned wrist. Blue poked out from skin, a reminder that no matter how wolves differed they all bled the same. The ignoring of her question might have bothered her had her head not hurt, and had this not been one of Texas's uncles.

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