Among The Wolves

Prime Minister

My feet hurt, my back hurt. I had blisters on my toes and blisters on my nose. The uncompassionate sun had been working steadily to kill me these last five days and I would say in just a few more days, it would win. If this kept up I would be vulture food, a maggot's meal and probably some ugly vulture's chewbone. Better that than the alternative I guess.

Every step I took made the ache in my chest grow. The further I dragged my body from Wos'Theon, the nastier I felt. I wished so badly to be able to find a place out of this blistering sun and get some sleep. Yet sleep was currently my worst nightmare. Every time I relaxed and closed my eyes, there came a longing for Obsidian.

I felt like a teenager with a hormonal crush on a boy. So, I aimed not to gratify my fleshly temptation and think about it.

As I looked into the dusty horizon. Wishing I would see the end of my choking, water-suffocating plight. My speculation had told me that I would run into that lone motel soon... two days ago. And nada. Absolutely nada.

Just long stretches of a weedy highway that was merciless to my sore feet. I would attempt to walk through the plains that laid to my left and right but the brittle Beach grasses and thistle plants poked me back onto the asphalt that had a never-ending mirage of water ahead.

One thing that was not a mirage and that I was grateful for was the trickling stream, of a drying river, that seemed to follow the road for the most part so water had not been scarce. But the cloudless sky, beating sun, and crunchy grass told me that there was a local drought.

I limped along and readjusted my shoulders. Trying to stretch out some knots in my back and appease the misery. It did nothing to help, of course, the ache in my soul. Before I had to work to feel it, now I had to work to NOT feel it. It was growing fast and invading my thoughts with blue eyes and thick black fur.

Although I was fully convinced that this side effect was due to the werewolf disease I felt nothing of impending shifts as of late. No buzz, no hum, no headache, aching joints nor reddening eyes. Just constant clammy skin and a chill in my bones. By now I would have thought that the arid weather would have chapped my skin and riddled my fingers with hangnails. Nope. I was as pale as a snowman and as damp as morning dew.

Still, I was convinced that the assaults of longing and yearning for a certain wolfblood was because of this matebond or whatever it was, and that was from the werewolf. I did not understand. Just because of biology, you succumbed to being partnered with some dude without even knowing his character?! Absolutely absurd. What if he was aggressive? What if he lacked responsibility? What if he hated children?

The thought of being forced paired with a man with these grotesque attributes threatened a panic attack. That's why I refused to give into the temptation of mind wondering about a certain so-so.

Sure, I had some background with Obsidian. He showed that he could be calm under pressure, and that he could be gentle. But I would still need at least ten more interviews with him before determining if he was compatible. The fact that this crushing made me want to swoon over him because of a one minute hug was beyond me. Then I remembered that wolves were dogs, they ran things by their instincts rather than intellect. Mentally, I was back on square one.

I looked up at the horizon again and thought my eyes were tricking me when I spotted a tall motel sign. The quick fluttering of my eyes told me that it was not a mirage. With new motivation I set a faster pace until I reached the old white plastered building. I was very relieved when the crunching of the gravel driveway meant I would get reprieve from the flat highway and so I made a beeline for the door hoping that it would be cooler on the other side. The bell above the door tinkled, but not as loudly as the door itself squeaked my arrival. I stepped into the old foyer of a seriously out-of-date motel. At my feet the carpet was tufted in places and in others I could see the cement underneath. The greeting counter ahead looked as if most of the press board had crumbled and fallen to the floor. The yellowing walls were smeared in places and cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air.