The White Wolf (2020)

Chapter Twenty-One

SYDNEY

The lone house had a sweeping angled roof and the front wall was made entirely of windows which reflected the grey day and the evergreens surrounding the home. The sound of Logan's door closing and his jacketed figure darting through the rain to the door caught her attention from her own vehicle.

Jumping out of her Jeep she followed in his tracks. In the doorway Sydney was surprised to see in the brief dash from her car to the open door, the rain had saturated her jeans.

Plucking off her boots to keep from tracking mud in the home, Logan's voice emanated from somewhere in what Sydney was now going to dub the glasshouse. "I'll grab us some towels, in the meantime close up the front please."

The beauty of the architecture was enhanced by the furniture shades of grey, white and black. Stunning black and white photos that Sydney recognized as Ansel Adams' and Henri Cartier-Bresson prints decorated some of the interior walls. The only real dash of color was the fruits in a three tiered basket in the open kitchen.

"Here's a towel," the bundle of fluff flew at her right as she turned. Flailing she caught it and with a mumbled thanks started drying off what she could.

As she dried her damp blonde ponytail she nodded her head towards some artwork, "I like the photographs. Adams and Cartier-Bresson right?"

He nodded in affirmation.

"I plan on getting copies when I get my own place too."

A grin spread across his lips, but he remained quiet.

It was then she noted his completely dry form, "Did you change?"

Nope." He flashed her a wicked smile.

This provoked her eyebrow to raise in curiosity. "Are you going to share your secrets then all mighty Nature Vassal?"

Lightly chuckling, he waved her deeper into the house.

"I'm going to show you how to move water and air."

This highly piqued her interest, "I'm listening."

He took a seat on the floor of the living room and Sydney followed in suit. Soft rain pattered outside and Sydney heard the air kick on throughout the house to begin to warm it.

"Do you live here alone?" She inquired.

Logan nodded, "Just me, myself, and I."

She shivered at the lonely feeling of the giant monotone house, that while beautiful, seemed like a big place to get lost in one's thoughts and never return to society. She found it hard enough in the giant swath of a house she lived in, even with her siblings felt all too big and hollow.

A snap of Logan's fingers brought her eyes back from wandering, "Now pay attention. This is difficult and new stuff. I want you to close your eyes." He pointed to his temple. "Note you're breathing. The air sweeping through your nostrils, tumbling down your windpipe, and you're lungs expanding, stretching and conform to this invisible mass."

His voice was quiet and soft as he helped her focus and narrow down her thoughts. Her senses expanded with every narrated breath they took in unison. Logan described different parts of her body and it's actions each time, and she felt a calm almost out of body awareness sweep over her.

She could feel the blood twisting through her veins, the pulse it brought with it in the tips of her toes, the sound of air curling in her ears, the muscles in her chest moving to power her body with breath.

"Now, in order to manipulate, it helps being able to fully be attuned to your senses. Over time it'll get easier," he reassured her, "and you'll just be able to command what you want. Being in touch fully with your body allows you to be more aware of everything influenced around you though too. So, bring your attention to your skin. The dampness of the shirt clinging not just to your skin but the small hairs lining your body. The wet material of your jeans suctioned to your legs. In those materials thousands of droplets of water are band together. I want you to picture water rising off your clothes, off of you. Imagine it however you see it happening and it will happen."