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The passive and daunting forest has the appeal of a forgotten land, which has been lost in time. The isolated forest remained in a capsule, untouched by the destructive essence of man.
The dark shadows of the voluminous trees and puzzled bushes had become the structure of the forest. The trees stood proud and tall as protectors of the exigent grounds, as the impregnated bushes that had consumed the hard regions of the forest, concealed the land from beneath the vibrant portals of the open sky.
It was pitch dark. Her feet stepped cautiously as if they had a brain of themselves. The sound that got in the fathom were the crispy sound every step made and distance hooting sounds, overpowering all these was the slow pounding of her heart.
The sound of howling was also clearly heard in the ears, knowing it was coming from the other side of the treaty line. It came far from the reservation, Quileute Indian Reservation. The howls that she knew very well, were not ordinary wolf howls, but what else if not the howls of the shape shifter of Quileute pack.
'I wonder what the meaning behind the howling is.' Megan stopped her steps for a moment, it was not often that she had thoughts about them, who were considered eternal enemies by vampires.
She knew, she was just curious. She was curious how different these shape shifters were compared to the werewolves she had met before, the lycanthropes. Since she had never been in her life made eye contact with the shape shifters in Forks, let alone exchanged words.
In fact, she also did not include herself in the meeting related to the uneasy treaty between the Cullen clan and the local Native American shape shifter pack. Let's just assume that she was busy on the day of the meeting, even though she was actually not in the mood to answer the question if asked why she was different from the Cullens. If answered that means more problems for her if the truth is known to more people. Enough of what is now.
Megan resumed her halting steps, unconsciously towards the direction from where the source of the howling came from. After a few seconds she reached a cliff, which she had never set foot on. There was no glimpse of a shape shifter that she could see.
In front of her, a large river that became a boundary between where she was now and the cliff on the other side that revealed one side of the reservation. Thick trees up to her sight, wind blowing and the strong rush of water reaching her sensitive ears give tranquility to her soul.
Her composure was disturbed when she caught a movement near the cliff on the other side. There, a girl was seen coming out of the forest of the reservation. To her, the girl seemed to have her own charm, her charming exotic face showed the special characteristics of the native tribe. Megan wondered if the girl was one of the descendants of the Quileute pack.
But that is not the most thought of, but the sad face shown by the native girl. Although the girl looked tough, Megan could see that there was something certain that had made the girl look vulnerable. The girl was heartbroken, she was sure of that. By what? or perhaps by whom? Could it be her lover?
