Beware Of The Dog

Chapter Four: Meeting

It was peaceful. Morbidly so. It was almost as if nothing had happened at all. Avon stared, almost mindlessly to the space in front of her. She could see the bodies, bloodied and brutalized in front of her. She bit her lip and sunk to her knees, holding her chest. This is where it all began. It was painful to remember - her heart pounding in her ears as leaves rustled in the wind.

If she left, no one would follow her. No one would even care. She could be torn to pieces in front of them and not a single one of her pack members would care. She was the one to cause them to lose two of the best pack leaders they had, and forced Peter into being an orphan. She lived with the pain and the guilt of that day for over ten years. She was tired, desperate for escape.

Her pain grew worse as her desire to escape grew even more, her joints beginning to ache unbearably. Her wolf howled mournfully, a deep ringing following along with it. The moment she heard her wolf howl, she knew something was wrong. She had never heard her wolf howl in her life. Avon's bones began to contort and pop uncontrollably as she cried out in pain, writhing on the floor and holding her body. Her claws felt like they were pulling out of her body, her jaw clenching from the pain. Grasping at the ground, hot tears poured from her eyes as she gasped for air. Formulating words was an impossible task. The pain was so blinding, her mind began to slip in and out of consciousness. Avon was horrified out of her mind, screaming for help into what seemed like nothing.

Between her screams she heard a muffled voice, footsteps bounding closer at an incredible speed. Warm hands held her tight as Avon convulsed and twitched under them. "H-Help me!" She croaked, gasping for air between words. It was the last thing she said before she felt her body change, then slipping into unconsciousness.

Her body felt warm and comfortable as the sun shone on herself. Avon felt as if she was melting into the soft mattress, with a warm, thick blanket... unlike the one in her room - wait - unlike her room? Avon snapped open her eyes, attempting to sit up to be weighed down by a muscular arm. She immediately kicked the unknown body away from her, the large figure falling to the floor with a thud. Looking around, it was obvious that the environment was unfamiliar. It was a homely, cabin-like room. Natural light poured through the window blinds as she sat in the middle of a large bed, covered in a colorful quilt. A groan was heard from the floor, as a disgruntled man sat up and scratched his unruly black hair. "What was that for?" He grumbled, looking up at Avon with dark eyes.

Avon tensed as he stood up, grabbing at the blanket defensively. She was too afraid to say anything, a disgusted expression apparent on her face as she looked down at the shirtless man. He scared her, as his body was riddled with countless scars from who-knows-what. Avon didn't care to find out.

The man stood up, dusting himself off as he looked down at Avon. He was incredibly tall, compared to Avon. He could easily stand more than a head taller than herself, who was only five feet tall. "Don't look at me like that." The man glared, stretching himself. "I saved your fuckin' life yesterday. Remember much?" Avon looked at him, confused for a moment, before memories of the night before flowed into her mind. What was that? Was that shifting?

Silence fell over the room, the man staring uncomfortably at her before sitting on the bed, to Avon's surprise. "Stop fuckin' lookin' at me with that airheaded eyes you got. You almost died last night. How could you shift without your parents or something? What the hell." His words were crass, but it didn't affect Avon. "I smelled blood when I was passing by and saw your tiny ass on the ground like some caterpillar or something. Took you back to my place 'cause you were all beat and bruised." The more that Avon stayed silent, the more agitated he got. "No 'thank you' or something? You got no manners?" He clicked his tongue and looked away, before flinching at the sound of her voice chiming through the air.

"Thank you."

He furrowed his brows, rubbing the back of his neck as he refused to make eye contact with Avon. "Uh." He cleared his throat, as if he was not expecting it (despite his scolding). "No problem." He ruffled his hair before looking back at Avon, regaining his composure. "Derrik." He blinked, scanning her up and down. "You smell like one of those pack bitches." Avon studied this man - Derrik - as he looked away once again. He seems to be a rogue wolf, a wolf without a pack. They are known to be capricious, incredibly violent and hostile. Yet, Derrik didn't seem to be threatening at all, despite his muscular body and his scarred skin.

"Avon." She said, lowering the blanket. Derrik stood once again, walking around his room senselessly. "Gross name." He muttered. Avon ignored him and continued to look around her surroundings. He seemed to be the only one out of place.

Her attention was pulled back to him as he slipped into a shirt, looking back at her with a threatening glare. "Don't you fucking move." Growling, he left the room. It didn't take long for him to come back with hastily made scrambled eggs and a cup of water. He shoved the plate in her lap, a cup of water with a fork in it in her hand. "Eat. You look like you've been fucking starved." His demanding tone was dripping with hostility, yet his actions negated that atmosphere. It was almost comedic, how Derrik's actions conflicted with his words.

Looking down at her plate, Avon stared at it almost confusingly. She had never had breakfast made for her, not since her parents died. Derrik grit his teeth upon seeing her move not a muscle, before sitting himself at the edge of the bed. "You're just gonna fuckin' stare at it like some idiot? The food is going to get cold, what the hell." An exasperated groan left his lips as Avon glanced back up at him, then to the cup with the fork in it. Taking the fork out, she picked up a piece of the egg and bit it gently. It was fluffy, and warm, and delicious. The warmth of eggs let a tear escape from her eyes, her face remaining stoic.

Derrik flew into a panic. "Wh-What?! Is the eggs too salty or something?" Confused hands hovered over Avon, not knowing what to do. She simply shook her head in reply, wiping her tears with her hand.

"Thank you."