Wolves of Song

Back to the Present

Slowly, almost gracefully my lips wrap around the end of a lit cigarette, pulling the thick smoke deep into my chest and quickly taking a small breath to chill the molten cancer in my body before releasing it. The thick cloud trickled from my mouth, clinging to my skin in the chilly morning. The sun was barely cresting in the east, spattering the sky with bright orange and dark rust, accented by smears of purple. It looked similar to my eyes at the time, my dark makeup smudged and smeared around my eyes and red pushed around on my lips. Last night marked another night on the calendar, another night where I couldn’t sleep and so decided to explore. Pushing a hand through my short and spiked, yet still thick, hair; I gazed out with blue eyes across the cityscape before me. Up on this rooftop, I felt as though I could see all of Atlanta. The city stretched out before me, the sounds rushing up to the sky full of white noise, beeping cars, clanking machines, it was all a familiar vibe. Above the tall buildings however, hung a disgusting veil of pollution, thick black smoky smog. That’s the one thing I hated about this city; it was full of pollution.  Taking another drag of my cigarette I reached down for my coffee, steaming and calorie free. I took a small drink, swishing it around in my mouth for a moment to wake up the numb taste buds before swallowing. My mornings were usually very boring and consisted of a run, a smoke, and usually little else. I mean, what else was there to do? Classes didn’t start until later in the day and it wasn’t as though I spoke to people other than those I occasionally got a little high with. Or I mean, the people I drink with, I suppose they count too. On the other hand, I usually wasn’t talking to them unless, like last night I couldn’t sleep and was very much so in need of some entertainment. I brought another long drag of smoke into my mouth, holding it there before gently letting it seep out of my bottom lip, letting it drift up the small dip of my cupid’s bow and into my nostrils. Then, taking a breath in, I let the smoke go into the air again. Boredom can make a girl very good at these kinds of things; the mundane things I mean, like the smoke tricks and the illusions. It was then that the sound of metal scraping on metal broke into my mind, the present tense rushing back in a fluid shot of adrenaline. My head whipped around, eyes ablaze with a moment of fear. Luckily, the fear didn’t last long as it was only my roommate and off again on again lover, Damien. I let out a sigh of relief, smiling at the tall man and his sleep mused dark hair that laid across his forehead and stuck out in all directions.

“Good morning sleepy head” I said, standing up and walking over to him, brushing the hair out of his eyes. He smiled back at me, his own mug of coffee in hand and shook his own favored brand of cigarettes in my direction.

“I actually came up to see if I could bum a smoke, I know you like to sit up here by yourself.” He admitted sheepishly, the deep roughness in his voice making my legs tremble for a moment. Damien was right though, usually I liked the rooftop to myself, it was more peaceful that way, but occasionally I would make the exception for him.

“Of course, I always have a smoke to spare” I giggled, meandering back to the ledge where I usually sat, readjusting the sweats I had thrown on further up on my waist. Carelessly, I pulled out another cigarette for myself and threw my pack up for him to catch before patting the space beside me. He sat and while he did I peeked behind him, glimpsing the large black tiger and wolf melding together in their wispy states. That was the main reason that I was so attracted to Damien, he was another soul like me. Given, he wasn’t exactly the same, it wasn’t like he was on this life mission to protect the human ignorance, but he could understand my wanderlust and was usually more than happy to accompany. His soul was large and black, about twice the size of my visible wolf aura and bore bright blue eyes like the two that sat in his own skull. Those eyes were magnetic I swear and drew my own gaze to them as he watched me, reading my face. I snapped back, raising my eyebrows and realizing I still hadn’t lit up.

“You alright?” he questioned, sticking his own cancer stick into his mouth and flicking on his lighter. His eyes bore a knowing gleam deep in them and they prodded at me, tickling my stomach into flight. While Damien may have been able to glimpse my different spirit, he didn’t know all of me and honestly didn’t understand more than that.