Blood Moon

Wolves

Despair helps no one.
I will use my hands,
I will do something.
I will do what is right,
If only to repair what has been broken.

***

Edward bends over to look at the young girl, turning her over onto her back. Her pale copper skin looks waxy, and cold, and mouth hangs open, just slightly. A thin trail of deep red blood drips from the corner of her mouth. I wrinkle my nose from the smell. Edward adjusts her head, and pushes the hair back from her neck, where there is a small mark surrounded by bruises. The flesh is punctured, the perfect outline of two fangs which dug into her skin the only tell for what happened to her.

"She's been bitten." Edward swallows, hard.

"How? Nobody in our family would do that!"

"It wasn't one of us," he seethes. "Someone else has been here, and killed her."

I take a step back, tears welling up in my eyes.

"Carlisle needs to see this," Edward mutters.

Suddenly, we hear a rustle in the brush behind us, and Alice and Carlisle appear behind us.

"Edward," Alice gasps.

"What happened," Carlisle asks, his voice quavering.

Edward doesn't answer, he just brushes the hair away from the wound again, and Carlisle gasps.

"And she's a wolf," I say, showing him the tattoo.

"Who," Carlisle starts.

"We don't know," Edward replies, "but it's not one of us."

Carlisle doesn't reply, he just shakes his head, and hoists the body up in his arms. Alice follows, tears brimming in her eyes.

"Come on," Edward sighs. "We'll have to warn the others."

***

Rosalie looks down at the young werewolf in disgust. She winces while Carlisle explains that she had been bitten, and that none of us could have done it.

"So, who is she," Emmet asks, looking over at Jacob.

Jacob stands in the corner of the room, silent, and cold. His arms are folded across his chest, and his jaw is flexed, a small vein visible against his neck. "I don't know. Sam doesn't know, either," he answers, his voice gruff and low.

Renesmée reaches out for his hand, but he swats it away, his anger nearly boiling over. Edward shoots him an angry glance, reminding him to keep his temper in check, especially around Renesmée.

"She's not a Quileutae werewolf," Alice suddenly says. "I thought she was, but look!" She snatches Jacob's arm and drags him over to the girl, comparing tattoos. His tattoo had a Native American depiction of two wolves, mirrored. Hers was a literal drawing of a wolf, howling at the moon, with traditional geometric designs where the night sky would be.

"The designs are similar, but not the same," Alice explains. "She's from another tribe."

"Why would there be werewolves up here," Jacob snaps.