Howling at the Moon - [A Werewolf Adventure]

Welcome to Dreadville, Population: 4 (Auron)

The fact that Jaxon had run into Darion's arms shocked me. I'm pretty sure it shocked all three of us and it must have hurt Tamara as well. But of all things, I don't think I was particularly surprised. Since Darion had displayed himself as someone confident and never afraid, so it seemed, Jaxon would most likely want to be comforted by him. At the current moment, Tamara was the complete opposite of that. I didn't blame her at all given our situation not too long ago.

My eyes met with Darion's and then both of our eyes shot over in Tamara's direction. Waiting, expecting. Instead, she simply squinted at us and suggested we head inside. She made her way toward the entrance of the Hideout and Darion had scooted Jaxon, urging him to follow his sister and he did, reluctantly pulling away. I wanted to talk to Darion and he knew that. We spoke low enough for neither of the two inside to hear.

"You know you have to let his sister be a sister, right?" I asked raising an eyebrow.

"I know, man. But it's not like I'm doing it on purpose. I mean I'm not calling him to me like a puppy or I bathed in deer blood or something." Darion leaned up against the smooth, hard wall and looked down. He ignored the body slouched at the bottom with his neck dangling at an uncomfortable position. Tamara's doing.

"I hope that's not the case," I laughed a little avoiding the awkwardness of the body. "She feels a bit hurt. I felt it when I looked her in her eyes. Just try to let Jax get a hold on who's blood and who's water."

"Right now, I think we're all blood in this, Auron,?" He shot a look over in the direction of the field.

"You know what I mean." My eyes narrowed.

"Look, I'll try. I can't help how he feels." His tone sounded off to me.

"Well, I won't have her hurt over something that can be helped." I stepped closer to him.

"Dude, relax okay? I'm sorry about everything." Darion patted my back and walked inside.

He hadn't just meant sorry for the Jax-Tam situation. He had meant my mom. I hadn't thought about her since we were being tailed by the other wolves. Once again, I wanted to completely vomit. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream out 'fuck' at the top of my lungs. I wanted to die. Bitterly, I followed behind Darion, staring at the ground.

I ducked under the entrance and immediately saw Tamara sitting by a wall, away from Jax. I sat next to her. I felt as if she needed reassurance. I think she needed to know that she wasn't alone.

A description of the Hideout? Every teenagers dream spot: A place away from parents with a ton of junk food and stuff to play with.

I don't know an exact way to describe the shape. Think of a room with non congruent sides with roughly cut tree bark as most, if not all of our furniture. Tamara's bookshelf at the farthest wall of the den? Tree bark. Darion's claw boards that he used way to often along with his respective "coffee" table? Tree bark. Jaxon's makeshift ball and bat, plane that never flew, and his small chair with leaves for cushion? Take a guess. There were hairline cracks in the ceiling that matched the okay gray walls. Then there were greater cracks in the ceiling which allowed light to flow in freely and when it rained we covered it with, well, tree bark and leaves. Other than the skylight, there was no source of light unless we made a fire. For that, we gather a bunch of dry twigs, leaves and if Jaxon is unhappy with his art on that particular day, a few papers he drew on. We dug a hole in the dirt floor in the most secluded part of the room and used those ingredients for our own small bonfire.

 It wasn't much but it was all we had. Literally. There were other things but they were too small and insignificant to mention. We did have a couch, though. It sucked something serious but it was that or the hard cold floor (we decided to keep all the modern material back up in the town. We wanted this to be our wolf den, if you would say).

Darion walked over to where Jaxon was playing to talk to him about what just happened while I sat with Tamara.

My shoulder touched her own a little, but that was okay. I felt, in a way, it was almost necessary.

"If you think about it, we're all like Jax." I said staring oddly at the stone wall.

She blew air between her lips. "Good, I like being an inconsiderable brat."

"No, Tam. I mean we're like him when it comes to Darion." I pushed the right button, got the right feedback but wrong way to display that feedback. It was to be expected, though.

"Is that right? I don't find myself running to him when-" and she stopped herself short after she had thought about what she was saying.

"Exactly. Darion has always been that giant shield in front of us. Ever since we were little he's been there for us. We may not do it physically or voluntarily, but we've always been running to him to safety and that's probably the way Jaxon sees him. Like a protector, and if I'm not mistaken I'm sure that protector isn't listed under family member. You're not being put at number two, Tamara."

I looked over at her. Her face spoke a tale of sorrow, fear, betrayal, confusion and hopelessness. I couldn't help but feel bad.

"I just want to feel like I have some place in his world and it seems as if Darion is stealing that away. But I know he's not because he's just doing his job." She wiped a small tear from her cheek and I brushed a small cluster of dirt from her hair. Even when she looked her worst, she looked her absolute best.

"It's not his job to protect us. He does it because he cares about us. He cares about you and so does Jaxon. He just needs to adjust to the new world he's been placed in for him to actually show he does love you as an older sister." I looked over my shoulder to see Darion shift from a position of him leaning up against the wall to having his hands on his knees, hovering over Jaxon who had his knees in his chest and arms around his shins, nodding to Darion's words.

When I turned around, I saw Tamara looking straight at me. Her smooth hazel eyes bore into my own eyes. She had scrapes and cuts along her right cheek and forehead. Minor injuries but she still looked scuffed up. But there she was, still glowing in the darkest time.

 "Thanks, Auron. I probably would have gone insane if you weren't here." She looked away for a quick second before returning her gaze at me and letting a small smile creep across her face.

I noticed she was staring at a certain spot on my face; nearly by my right temple. I peered over at Darion who's eyes grew wider. His mouth frowning ever so slightly and he shrugged. Don't shrug, you fool. Help me. The hell do I do? I was beginning to feel awkward.

"What? What's on my face?" I said starting to rose at my cheeks and I slowly started to perspire.

She giggled slightly and responded "It's only blood. You have some on your head. Right... here," and she wiped it off with her thumb.

I looked away as her thumb went across my forehead. "Uh, thanks," I said. Dear God, thank you. 

I glanced Darion's way to see him doubled over in quiet laughter. Don't laugh, you fool. The hell do I do? "I don't remember being hit on the front of my head. I only remember when my mom pushed me and I fell."

I hadn't realized what I said until I looked at Tamara's dim face. She lowered her head so the moonlight no longer shone on it.

'I don't..." Was all I remember saying before I began getting tunnel vision, the edges of my eyes growing dark. I felt nauseous as I fell back onto the rug. I saw Tamara hurry and scoot by my side and seconds later, Darion and Jaxon were kneeling next to me as well. I felt warmth seeping from inside of me on the side of my body. Blood? Piss? Is this real life lag when I die?

I passed out while the last few happy memories of my mother burned away from my mind by the flames that Lore had caused.

Lore...

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Picture of Jaxon, Tamara's younger brother, as a red wolf in the top corner.