Fatal ➵ Peter Hale [COMPLETED]

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sixteen

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The moon glimmered like a beacon of pale light through the crowded darkness, clouds seeping in front of its encouraging light almost as if it were attempting to hide it, perhaps even shield it from the eyes of all those that rested below. Dea let a small smile grace her lips, the smile not quite reaching her tired eyes.

Dea simply stood there, her eyes briefly closing and letting her senses take over as she awaited the arrival of her new ally and used-to-be father figure. She could hear the light rustle of the wind that danced with the arms of the trees, embracing the wood around it as it carried the soft aroma of earth with it. The trees swayed slightly under its light force, a few of it's branches reaching out as the few deadened leaves that had clung to the tree, fell to meet the soft, luscious grass once more in a final goodbye.

She could hear the grasshoppers calling out to each other in its own method of calling as wild rabbits hopped or chased each other from one place to another. The birds swiftly flew and swerved its way through the branches of the trees, gracefully in sync with one another as it chirped its melodic song for all the creatures of the night to hear, before disappearing into the deep shadows of the forest, taking its melodic song with it.

The smell of freshly bloomed daises and dandelions seeped through the woods, adding to the smell of the earth as it basked in the shimmering light of the moon, awaiting to be picked to be made in flower crowns and chains from giggling children. The scene had caused Dea to think of herself as a child, before and after the slaughter of her family; it wasn't long before she became nostalgic for the days in which a slither of innocence rested in her soul, and an understanding for the immoral and the moral, the right and the wrong.

Though, it seemed that in a town like Beacon Hills, those clear, defining lines were always blurred, or washed away to nothing. It was peaceful, but Dea knew that nothing peaceful lasted for chaos always seemed to strive forward with a mighty fist up high and an army of shadows and darkness behind it, calling out to all that were vulnerable and susceptible to its tantalizing howl of false promises, granted wishes and desires.

And as that last thought entered her mind, it was as if fate had decided to prove her right as a familiar voice and form emerged from the forest, "I wonder, what has you so lost in thought Dea." His deep voice rumbled as Deucalion stepped into the light of the moon, walking to stand beside Dea who had yet to turn to face him. But no, she simply stood there, unmoving from her position with her eyes closed and head titled upwards.

       Her small smile widened just a little, before looking at a particular spot deep in the woods with half lidded eyes, almost hearing her childish giggles as if her younger self was standing right in front her, acting the memory of Deucalion playing with her in a fatherly manner and chasing her through the woods.

       The times where even though she was supposed to be a damaged teenager, Deucalion made her feel like part of a family again. Until, Deucalion became just as damaged as her, and that would probably be the only thing that Dea would admit to them having in common with each other. "Believe it or not, I was thinking about the times we'd come to these very woods. You'd bring me here after I felt upset or after a rough day of training and you made me feel like a normal teenager again, joking with her father." Dea reminisced softly, a foreign tone of voice on her tongue.

       "You even used these woods to help me be more in tune with my senses; to feel and attack coming before needing to see or hear it." Dea added, her eyes remaining unmoving from that single spot in the woods as Deucalion's eyes burned into her. And for the first time in a long time, a small genuine smile creeped up onto his lips as he too remembered the fond memories he had here with Dea. She sighed, sad and longingly, "Why are you doing this, Duke?"