Burning Desire

Dakota

Seventy-two hours. Seventy-two hours, and everything would go back to the way it was. This was exactly what Dakota kept telling himself as he trekked farther and farther up into the mountains and away from the bustling city. The terrain was at least familiar, which made navigating damn near effortless despite his rather imparing circumstances.

Stopping for a moment and dropping his heavy backpack to the floor with a thud, the brunette leaned heavily against a tree and closed his weary eyes for a moment. His physical condition was not at its best; his limbs seemed heavy and useless in comparison to his usual agility, and his whole body felt as though it was slowly burning from the inside out. Dakota was all too aware of what these symptoms meant. It was his damn heat, a naturally occurring surge of hormones and instincts that caused his kind to suffer greatly whenever it took over.

It wasn't something that happened often - perhaps once or twice every year for your average werewolf - but the results were always the same; severe impairment, loss of control over ones mental and physical restraints, and a burning heat that devoured the body until the host either found a mate or endured the fever until it passed. The brunette always succumbed to the latter of those options, preferring to shoulder the hardship on his own and avoid making any mistakes he would no doubt regret after the heat had passed - hence why he was now way out in the middle of nowhere away from anything that could tempt him.

Attempting to calm his uneven breathing, the young man ran a hand through his messy hair and tilted his head back to rest it against the tree. He was nearly to the spot he always camped at in these situations, but his overheating body needed a small break before he continued any further.