1 | NEW MOON

VIII

Aiken Forbes' P.O.V.

                  I suddenly jolted awake, my body heaving as I attempted to get a grip onto my surroundings. As my eyes flew over the room and my mind was set at ease as I recognized where I was, I let out a long sigh, indicating my tiredness. Slowly, I shuffled to the edge of the bed and attempted to get up from the fluffy sheets.

A groan made its way out of my mouth, as I seemed to have forgotten the fact that I was previously injured. Realizing I was not wearing a shirt, I looked down towards my chest and torso. The upper half of my body was covered with white gauze, indicating that someone most probably had patched me up, and by now, I would be almost fully healed.

Slowly, but surely, I made my way towards the large mirror situated to the side of the room I was currently residing in for the rest of the trip at the Blood Moon pack.

I ignored the pain as it coursed through me with every step I took. When I reached my destination - the mirror - I pulled of the gauze to reveal three white and reddish slashes across my chest a torso. Whoever patched me seemed to do a good job since it started healing much faster and the stitches were almost near perfection.

The door to my temporary room flew open, and in came flying my sister, Alaera. I swear, that girl has no idea what the word privacy means.

Her cheerful expression dropped as her sapphire eyes fell onto the scars on my body. She gasped, a hand flying to cover her mouth as she stopped midway towards the general direction of the bed. Tears brimmed her eyelids, and her hands started to shake. And then came the fragile, scared voice that would always break me if it every made its way towards my ears.

"What happened to you?"

Selene Sinclair's P.O.V

                    Jogging through the steep forest that was inside the territory of my pack, I let my mind relax and wander, hoping the thoughts that seemed to mentaly tire me just magically disappear. I focused not on my bad luck and what has occurred these days, but on the beautifully haunting forest.

The leaves gleamed in the morning sunlight, droplits of water from yesterday's rain portraying the rays of the sunlight. The animals that inhabited the forest sang the tune of nature, chrips and neighs and squawks made for a song of sorts.

When the day is growing old and the hearth calls, the sun sinks down beneath the tops of the pines. The light streaks through the boughs in both brilliant and shadowy beams. In the summertime they were white gold, illuminating the greens into virescent riots; yet the gift of those warm days has passed for the season.

On these wintry days the fogs cast those same beams of light into sepia tones and the woodland becomes the most beautiful of photographs. The trunks of fallen trees bare icicles longer than my hand, no two of them the same - more enchanting than any work of man.

And never is the woodland silent, though it is quieter than any city street for sure. There are the birds above, calling, pecking for grubs. There is movement of mammals, mostly small, sometimes not. There is is the water that flows quietly until it meets the sharp rocky scree slopes and forms the waterfalls I love so much.

The peaceful environment ahead always been able to calm me down. My wolf clawed at me to give her release, and obeyed, taking off my clothes behind a tree and placing them there. I then shifted,which always reminds me of popping. Like how a kernel of Corn Pops immediately into popcorn, shifting is similar, from human to wolf form in milliseconds.