Queen of Wolves (ON HOLD)

V

v

Kenna is silent as we run, and so am I. Our hands have parted, no longer feeling eachother's warm touch. Instead, the calming and loving feeling is replaced with a cold, dark mood. She hasn't spoken, though I can see that she yearns to. We've stopped running twice, only for a few minutes, just to catch our breath. It's only been an hour or so; I can tell by watching the sun, high above the trees. We have only a few more hours of daylight left, and I hope that wherever we are going going, we get there soon. Come to think of it, I don't even know where there is. I stop, Kenna passing in front of me and stopping as well after realising that I am no longer following behind her. She turns around, looking at me with empty eyes. She's tired and distraught. I hate seeing her like this.

"Where are we even going?" I ask her, rubbing my temple as I look around us. "We can't just keep running."

"Away from the psycho Alpha, where else?"
she snaps back harshly. I shrink back at her sudden display of rage. She pauses for a moment, a flicker of regret and concern comes across her face, but disappears just as fast as it came. She opens her mouth the add something, but closes it again. She chooses her words.

"My group, they are about two hours west of that Pack. We will be safe there." I stare at her.

"A... a rogue camp?" I ask her, wondering what I expected. It's not as if there was any way that Kenna had belonged to a Pack. I could tell from both her scent and how she presents herself; ready to defend. I suppose it's a necessity in her life.

"Yes," she growls, "A rogue camp. We're halfway there."

"I'm sorry, I just... I've never," I shake my head, rearranging my thoughts. "I'm new to this whole rogue deal. We need to talk."

"About what?"

"About you." She scoffs, looking at me.

"No."

"Yes."

"No," she tells me, this time with more emphasis. I roll my eyes at her stubbornness. Whatever happened to her after she was dragged out if the prison, it's eating her up. I can see it in her eyes, and her language. She's tired, tired of it and tired of everything. "Another hour or so and we'll be there."

"Fine."

The sun has begun to set, a painting of reds, oranges and yellows cascading across the sky, between the trees.

"We're here," Kenna tells me without even faintly looking in my direction. She stumbles over to a large tree, a willow. She runs her hand through it's drooping branches. She sighs in relief, jumping into a sprint. I don't question, nor do I lag behind, as I follow her through the trees. We seem to be nearing the edge of the forest, as the amount of trees and brush around us begins to thin.

Kenna slows, kneeling down to touch a large rock on the grass. It is smooth and round, perfect and unnatural in this setting of dirt and mess. She laughs to herself and stands again, turning to me with a smile across her face. "Come on," she tells me, motioning with her hand for me to follow. Within a minute or two, the smell of wood burning, fire, enters my nostrils. Warmth, home, safety.

She runs again, and I follow, sure of her way now. I see a light just in front of us and don't hesitate to join her. I can't even feel my legs anymore, which, just moments ago, were aching, sore, and in pain, as I run. We sprint until we reach a fence, almost my height and crafted from large branches, leaves, twigs. Despite the materials used, it seems sturdy. Kenna walks up to it, slowly, cautiously, and wraps her hands around the columns of old wood.

"I'm home," she mumbles, smiling. She pauses, sighing in relief. "This way." We walk quicjly, making our way around the perimeter of the fence. A gate appears, attached to the fence. Kenna pushes it open easily. No lock? Not as secure as I'd imagined.

She walks in, and I see an orange light; fire. Many people gather around it, and they turn to us as we approach. I hear a gasp, then a dish clattering. A woman, perhaps in her late forties, stands up from her place beside the fire.

"Kenna," she mumbles my companion's name. Kenna freezes, then runs. She jumps into the woman's arms, spinning around. The woman speaks to her in a foreign language that I'm not sure of. I stand awkwardly to the side as the woman peppers her face with kisses. She pulls away from the hug, eyeing her daughters clothes.

"Your clothes-" she mumbles, but is cut off by her daughter.

"Nothing, I tripped and fell." Kenna looks at me with a shy look and her mother finally notices my presence. She turns to me, looking at me strangely.

"This is Agara. She helped me," Kenya answers unasked questions and turns back to the woman, holding her hands. "Mama," she starts, "where are my brothers?" Her mother spins around, calling into the distance. She speaks the unknown tongue once again, though I pick up the names. She calls out the names Ezekiel and Mekhi. Religious, biblical names. I rub my hands over my arms, goosbumps forming from the frigid wind. One man appears from behind a tent, stopping when he sees Kenya. He looks at least a couple years older than her. Another boy pops his head around the corner, much younger than both the first one and Kenya. He must be her younger brother. They both jump into a sprint hugging her tightly. They stay like that for a moment, and everyone is silent. The only noise to be heard is the crackling of the fire.

"Kenna, we were so worried!" says the older one. "We went to look for you, but then Papa-" He stops, letting go of Kenna. She looks him in the eyes.

"What's happened to Papa, is he alright?" Her voice reeks concern, though her older brother calms her.

"Papa is fine, who is this?" He distracts Kenna, throwing the spotlight back onto me as I stand idly to the side.

"This is Agara. Agara, these are my brothers," she points to the oldest, "Mekhi," and to the youngest, "and Ezekiel. She helped me escape."

"Escape?" questions the younger one, Ezekiel. He must be in his early teens. "You were... captured?"

"I- no, we," she looks to me for support.

"We simply got into some trouble, and we met. Luck or fate, maybe just a coincidence. But here we are." Kenna mouths the words 'thank you' to me and I give her a curt nod.

"Agara, welcome. We owe you an impossible debt. You saved my daughter." She hobbles over to me and takes me by the hand. She brings my hand to her lips and gently kisses it. "Many blessings, my child."

"I am going to show her around, and then we will get cleaned up. Then, I'd like to see Papa. I don't appreciate being lied to." She takes my hand and leads me away from the crowd of a dozen people.

We walk slowly. The compound is much bigger when inside than when looking from outside. Kenna shows me the infirmary, several tents that are for sleeping and resting, training grounds, and even a small school. There is of course a small area to eat and prepare food, around the canpfire when we furst entered.

"So, when are we going to talk? If you won't tell your own family about it, at least tell me," I plea, hoping that she changes her mind on the matter. I'm disappointed by her response.

"No."

Thanks for reading this chapter!

a/n: I changed Kenya's name to Kenna. Kenya didn't really match her roots, so I changed it just a little.