Through The Forest

Chapter 1

VALERRA

I walk through the forest, alongside the stream in the Wolf Quadrant's outskirts, near the border of the Coyote Quadrant. My russet- orange sweater gleams in the frigid sun as I strut along the bubbling waters. I felt a little pull at myself, a tug at my soul, to go in the water.

My eyes falter, then I hear a splash. I feel my fingers raking the water, a giggle emerging from me. I struggle to pull myself out of the shift, back to my own body.
Father's going to be mad.

I blink my eyes open, and find myself squatting in the stream, splashing at minnows. The bottom of my leggings, my socks, and my shoes are soaked. I immediately jump out of the stream and try to shake the water off of my legs. I shivered slightly as I walked to my private clearing.

I stepped through the bushes, and sat on the log I dragged in front of the little pond. Taking off my shoes and socks to dry, I set those aside and roll up my leggings.

I look up at the sun as my senses swivel around for any wolf calls my family could've sent out. I sigh loudly, the sound carrying across the small clearing, and stare at the pond for a while, thinking.

I glanced at the bloodmark on my wrist. I was of the Lowe family, one of the highest-ranking wolves in the Quadrant since my dad was the general for the Wolf Quadrant's leader, the Alpha. My whole family had the trademark of a true wolf; their senses heightened at night, and their teeth and claws were long and sharp.

Unlike me.

After putting my shoes and socks back on, I found a small piece of bark beside the log, and began sharpening my unnaturally short claw-tipped fingers, as my dad would always instruct me to do.

Scrape.
Scrape.
Scrape.
Scrape.

A soft groan emerged from the trees. It sounded like someone was in pain.

I stopped and stood.

"Owwww..." a pained voice winced. It sounded male.

I followed my nose and pushed past the fern to discover a bloodied figure with white hair lying in the grass, a backpack beside him.

Through the clumped blood covering him, I could see a Leopard Quadrant bloodmark. How in the Mother did a leopard shifter get across The Heart?

Fuck. I crouched at his side and poked him lightly with a claw to check for movement. "Holy Mother." I said softly, fingers brushing against the fern. "Where are you bleeding from?"

"Everywhere," he grunted, rolling over onto his back, fingers skimming his torn shirt. I could see a neat, chiseled six-pack under the grey flannel.

I spotted feral clawmarks and teeth bites. Whatever happened to him, he barely made it out. Just by a damn hair.

"What did this to you?" I ask gently. He coughed up some blood, and I stiffened. "Okay, let's get you to the pond, alright? We'll wash off." I hoisted him from under his arms and onto his feet. I slid my arm around his upper back and slowly guided him through the brush.

I gently set him against one of the trees in the clearing, hearing him huff once then slump into a more comfortable position. I picked up his backpack, hid the scent of his blood with my own natural scent and cleaned it up, and returned to the clearing.

His eyes were half-lidded and his head was tipped back, exhaustion radiating from him. I pulled out a first-aid kit I kept in a small den nearby and popped it open. Bandages, shoots of healing trees, dried flowers and leaves, and pastes were all neatly organized in a pouch my mother had made me.