Blind Instincts

Chapter Twenty-Five

~ • ~

       The sky beckons my eyes to its tender slash of colours, ones that I do not know the names of. I consider asking Morrison, who lies on his side next to me. It makes me believe that he has watched the sunset so many times, he isn't even interested anymore. Opposing him, I keep myself awake as long as my body allows, just to watch as everything melts into a heaping mess of warmth.

His exposed body doesn't bother me anymore, the countless hours we've spent just existing in each other's company rendering body shyness useless. I've come to enjoy the freedom of not being confined by fabrics and insecurities, allowing my moon gifted body to explore the earth as it should. Despite Morrison likely never feeling ashamed of his body's exposure, I thank him mentally for allowing me the passage to feel the same.

I take one last glace at the night sky, clawing it's way above me as it pinches the sun further and further down. It's now almost fully dark, and so I make the decision to sleep in my human body.

Goodbye, I say in my head to everything around me, although I know they won't be leaving, and neither will I.

I close my eyes and keep them closed, shifting to find a comfortable spot in the grass.

It's been a couple of days since Morrison and I last spoke, my preference lying in my wolfs body. It's safer that way, vulnerability lying in the human form.

~ • ~

Sounds of the forest breathe and croak and rustle around me, my eyelashes skimming the grass, leaving a soft tickle on my eyelids. The grass is now flattened beneath me and dew from its long green strands moisten my cheek. It sticks to my body as I peel upwards into a sitting position, listening for Morrison. I tap the ground heavily to hear for his position, but I still can't locate him. I contemplate on whether I should shift to be safe.

I push myself off the ground in a swift manner, planting my feet into the dirt. My feet are spread the length of my shoulders, my arms bent slightly in front of me. I hear nothing but the earth and yet my intuition strikes panic in the pit of my stomach. I force a slow breath out of my lungs, subsiding any decisions I might make out of fear. This is something Morrison taught me to do. Our first few days, it was difficult for me to not freak out. Sometimes it still is, though I'm now learning how to control how I react, no matter my emotion.

My body releases tension, nothing unearthly being heard or even smelt. I realize I am safe, despite the uneasy feeling still thick in my gut. As always, I keep alert, like Morrison taught me.

It's on our third week of travel we finally reach a pack. Morrison and I ran through plains, forests, and even crossed a few great lakes to get here. We didn't know where we were going or where we would end up, though it proved worthwhile as we arrived in the packs territory.

We knew to be very careful as we entered their territory, appearing as kind as possible, as to not be taken as a threat. Most alphas are accepting of visitors, though some are left with deep scars of the recent war, and will likely never trust another rogue.

We walking among others on the clay streets, our beaten and dirtied bodies bound to catch their attention. All I can hope is that the people of this pack are trusting, allowing us a short life in their pack, before I head off again.

The knowledge I've learned over the last three weeks is unimaginable. I would have never pictured myself ever having the freedom I do now.

"Hey!" I startle at the shout of a pack member, jumping slightly away from the sound.