Wolf Girl (Book 1) REWRITING

Chapter 1: Carys

Carys' POV

Birthday cards, photos from first days at school, ticket stubs from trips to the zoo. I made this scrapbook with Mum years ago. She'd been saving things up for years to give them to me on my 13th birthday. Grandma did the same for Mum as a little girl, and they updated it every year until she died. It was before I was born. My scrapbook has only been updated three times and probably never will be again.

It's full of happy memories, but when I look at them all I can think of is Mum; how much I miss her, and how I'd give anything to bring her back. The last photo is the hardest to look at. Mum's arms are around me, I'm smiling at the candles on my birthday cake, fifteen of them. That girl doesn't know that her mother won't be here for her sixteenth birthday, or any other birthdays for that matter.

"Are you almost packed?" I hear Dad shouting from downstairs.

"Nearly," I reply and tuck the scrapbook safely away in a cardboard box. Time to pack up the last of my clothes, and then the room I grew up in will be bare.

Standing in front of my open wardrobe, for the first time I notice that there's a very particular colour scheme. Lots of neutral colours, mostly browns, but also bright pops of orange and a lot of green, my favourite. If I squint hard enough it's like looking out into a lush forest; pine trees standing uniformly across a vast expanse, a wood that goes on forever. I wish I could live somewhere like that.

Dad said I should try and downsize as much as possible, so I've got four boxes full of old clothes and toys, books I'll never read, to donate. But mostly I get rid of things Anwen gave to me. Dad said I should leave all of my bad memories here and she's definitely one of them now.

A photograph of Anwen and I that usually sits on top of my dresser is now buried at the bottom of my sock drawer, I hesitate for a moment, but then drop it into the trash. I shake it off, hastily throw what's left of my things into cardboard boxes, and grab my coat.

"Dad," I call out on my way down the stairs, "I'm going for a quick walk, just want to see it all one last time."

"No more than twenty minutes, I want to get there before it gets dark," he says.

I've always been drawn to nature, which isn't surprising given that I am descended from a species that used to thrive by living off the land. The local park isn't exactly ideal, but other than going up to the mountains, it's the closest I get to feeling like I belong.

I walk slowly, absorbing my surroundings one last time. The smell of the leaves and grass wafts through the air, entrancing my senses, and then the beeping of someone's phone reminds me I'm still in a city surrounded by humans. And I am just reminded of my mother again. Not that I could ever forget.

It's been six months, six full moons without her. We used to spend them up in the mountains, in a cave that my parents found when they first moved here. It's so remote it's never visited by humans, but it takes a good day's walk to get there. Since she died, Dad hasn't really been in the mood for long hikes, so we've been in the cellar for the last few full moons. He hasn't really been in the mood for anything lately. So when he suggested we go looking for his old pack, I knew we had to at least try if I wanted a shot at getting my dad back.

That's why we're leaving; moving to a tiny village at the other end of the country. Stoneybridge, in Northumbria. He says the pack used to spend the autumn months near there. He grew up in the wild with them, he says it's a Wolfblood's nature to roam, especially in times of strife. It can be healing. And because he's tame now, I'm hoping getting in touch with his inner wolf will help bring him out of his depression.

I think it will help me too. I've always wanted to live wild, and if his old pack takes us in, I'll get to learn what it truly means to be a Wolfblood, to embrace the side of me I have to keep hidden from the rest of the world.