Chapter 01

A Chapter by Silent Wolf

Warning: To get Fallon's personality right, there are a couple curse words here. But I don't quite feel that it's enough to mark the book as "mature."

If nothing else, I will always remember those eyes. They were the color of amber, emotions frozen inside them like an ancient fossil. They glowed faintly; it seemed almost as if they were staring straight into my soul. I felt like an open book, and at the same time I felt like I could trust the wolf with my life... If it ever came to that. Maybe that was why I opened the cage to let it free. Or maybe it was because, on that night, something inside me I never knew about before just... clicked.

“Hey, pay attention. You’re holding a loaded weapon, Fallon. Act like it.” My father snapped right next to me, pulling me out of my mental fantasy.

I quickly repositioned the sniper rifle, my hands shaking, then shoot, just barely missing the dark red bulls-eye in the middle of the black target board. I heard my father heave a deep sigh, following by the crunching of gravel under his boots.

“I think it’s time we call it a day.” He said, disappointment dripping off his tongue like venom. His dark green eyes stared into my blue ones, daring me to challenge him -- something I wouldn’t even think of doing.

I hesitate, then nod, picking up the gun and following him back to the house. The entire way back, I was waiting for him to say something else, to ask me what was going through my mind -- the answer to which I’d lie about, of course -- but he was silent. His face remained expressionless, but his eyes were an ocean of emotion if you knew the man as long as I have -- seventeen years and counting.

We get inside and I head to the hallway closet, bending over and uncovering the small space in the wall where we keep our most important weapons, like the rifle. I carefully slide the gun into place, then push the boxes in front of it to cover the hole back up. After a moment, I stand up, grabbing my furry grey jacket and sliding it over my shoulders, quickly heading towards the back door.

“I’ll be back in a bit.” I called over my shoulder, receiving a simple grunt in response. Though, to be honest, that was really all I was expecting from my father.

I cast my gaze downwards, then dart out the back door and head for the forest lining our huge backyard, my breath coming out in little white puffs from the chill outside. My mother was the one who put her heart into this place. I could feel her presence in every little detail of the house -- from the paint on the walls, to the stone tiles outside that led to the fenced-in area mom used as a garden all those years ago.

I was born into a family that hunts for a living. I don’t mean shooting little baby deer, cut off their head and hang it up on the wall for fun or sell the body for “big” money. I mean a family that hunts wolves for a living. And, yes, we do it for fun. We’ve killed scores of wolves, eliminated entire packs, and earned real money for it. Wolves are considered a nuisance around here, and my family gets paid well to kill them off.

My mother used to be against the killing of animals, saying that they were harmless, even going as far as being a vegetarian. Then, according to my dad, she was mauled to death by her favorite wolf when I was just an infant. After that, everybody in the family started coming up to the woods to hunt down the wolves with my father.

It wasn’t until three years ago, when I turned fourteen, that my father finally decided that I should start hunting with him and the others. It didn’t take long for me to find my way around the gun, but the only problem is that I can’t find it in me to kill the creatures. Uncle Tommy says that it’s because I’ve got my mother’s spirit in me, though I doubt that’s anything close to the truth. I barely even know my mother.

As soon as I opened the cage, it didn’t growl or try to attack me. It just lifted it’s head off it’s paws slightly to look up at me. Slowly, the poor creature got to it’s feet, limping over to me painfully slowly. It gently licked my cheek with a rather rough tongue, then pulled back, staring into my eyes once more with it’s captivating gaze.

I wrap my arms tightly around myself to fend off the cold, fighting back my tears. I’ll never be the daughter Father wants -- a cold-hearted wolf-killer.

I could have sworn it seemed sad, as if leaving caused it more pain than staying here. If I could have, I would have held it in my arms and kept it forever as a pet, something to take care of besides myself. Before I could even consider the possibility of a companion, it turned and bolted through the open window in the basement. That was the last I ever saw of it, but those eyes were permanently burned into my memory.

I look over my shoulder, noting that all I could see were trees, but I’m not far enough away to feel completely safe. Just a little further...

When my father had found out that I set the wolf free... I had never seen him more furious in my life. He grounded me, told me to never leave my room except to come down for meals. And he enforced it for the entirety of my summer break, even going a little bit into my kindergarten school year. As if I didn’t have enough to deal with already...

After a few more minutes of running, I stop, looking around to make sure I was completely alone. I strain my hearing, listening for anything nearby, then slowly relax when all I hear is the river next to me. I slowly sit down next to one of the trees, leaning back against it and pulling my journal out of my coat pocket. I glance around once more, taking in the rainbow of leaves littering the dying grass and falling from the trees above me, then flip to the next clean page in my journal and start writing.

“8/15. Dear Diary. Yet another day of disappointment and failure. This time, though, I zoned out to an old memory from 13 years ago, right after mom died. I’ve been thinking about that wolf a lot over the month, but for what reason I don’t know. I keep trying to understand why dad was so mad about me letting it go -- I was only four -- but I can’t come up with anything except for the fact that it’s just who he i-”

I look up quickly when I heard a twig snap on the other side of the river, my gaze meeting a wolf with... Amber eyes and a dark coat. My heart skipped a beat, my body frozen in fear. I tried to remember what Father told me to do if I ever came in contact with a wolf, but everything I had ever learned just seemed to slip my mind. For a while, the wolf and I just stared at each other, neither one of us moving. It never got into a position to attack or pounce or anything, just stared at me. Then, suddenly, it turned and took off in the opposite direction.

I didn’t even hesitate, stuffing my journal and pen into my jacket pocket and taking off after the wolf. Thankfully, the river level was low, making it easier to run through it. Somehow, I found it easy to keep up with the wolf. It made a sharp turn that I wasn’t prepared for, and when I went back to go after it, the wolf was gone.

I sigh, exhilarated after the run, turning around to head back when I realized I had absolutely no idea where I was anymore. I’d never been on this side of the river...

I look up when I hear a chuckle and see a boy about my age leaning against a tree nearby. He had sort of short, dark brown hair all thrown to one side and probably held up with a bunch of gel. It took me a moment to notice that he was shirtless, then another moment before I realized his pants hung dangerously low, even with a belt on.

“Lost, kitten?” He asked, finally looking up at me and running a hand through his hair. His eyes were like the color of honey, gentle but commanding. I instantly disliked him.

“No, I know exactly where I am.” I said confidently, then started walking back in the direction I thought I came from.

“You know, you don’t have to be so stuck-up around me, kitten. I’m a person, just like you.” He said, chuckling again. “By the way, you’re going the wrong direction.”

“Well, mr smart-a*s, you just know everything, don’t you?” I snapped, turning around to head in the right direction. Father’s going to be pissed if I’m not home soon.

“Actually, I don’t. I just saw you running after some big fur-ball.” He said, easily keeping pace with me. “Never seen you over on this side of the river before.”

“Yeah, because I’d be stuck with you whenever I came over here.”

“Look, I’m not the bad guy here. I’m just trying to help you.”

“Oh, yeah, right. Help me get out of my pants.” I growled, pushing my blonde hair out of my face for the thousandth time today.

“I’m sorry, but did I say something wrong?”

I look over at him, calming down slightly. “No, you didn’t.”

He nodded. “Then may I ask what I did to put you in such a bad mood?”

I stop, noticing him stop at the same time I did. He’s got quick reflexes...

“Maybe we started off on the wrong foot. My name is Ethan. Ethan White.”

I notice him stick his hand out and just stare at it for a moment, not wanting to shake it. It hung there for a moment before he let it fall to his side defeatedly.

“So, what’s you’re name?” He asked, rubbing his hands on his pants.

I hesitate, then sigh. “Fallon Caraway.” I replied, fixing my hair again.

He smiled. “Progress!”

I rolled my eyes, turning to keep walking in the direction I was going, finally coming upon the river. Once I cross the river, I’ll be free from him and I’ll be safe -- I hope. I start to go into the water when he grabs my arm and pulls me back, effectively stopping me as I stumble and fall into his arms. I look up to see he was... Smirking?!?

“What the hell was that for?” I demand, pushing him away from me, but he kept a rather tight hold on my wrist, preventing us from separating too much.

He pointed down towards the water. I hesitated before looking, noticing a bunch of rather sharp-looking rocks laying the spot where I was just about to step.

“Could have cut up your foot pretty badly.” He said, raising an eyebrow.

“And what’s that matter to you?” I asked quietly, looking up at him suspiciously.

“Well, it means I would have to carry you the rest of the way home.”

“UGH!” I cried, pulling away from him angrily. “I’m not some fragile thing!”

“I already figured that much out, kitten.” He replied, his smile widening slightly.

“Ugh!” I repeated, turning and walking across the river, careful of other sharp rocks lacing the riverbed. Most of them were round and somewhat soft on my feet. I mentally groaned when I realized that he was following me across the river.

“Why are you following me?” I asked, sidestepping a sharp rock.

“Well, I just wanted to make sure you got home safely.” He said. “I grew up around here -- this forest has been my home my entire life, kitten.”

“Oh, so you’re some tree hugger who thinks it’s his job to protect every woman who comes walking your way? Well, newsflash! I don’t need your help!”

“The previous events say otherwise.” He chuckled.

I roll my eyes, finally getting across the river and into familiar territory.

“I know my way back from here. You can go now.” I warned, not looking at him.

I continued walking, looking back after a bit to see that he was gone. *Good.* I thought bitterly. I eventually make my way out of the forest just as the sun started to set, opening the back door and almost slamming it shut behind me, stopping when I noticed my father sitting in one of the reclining chairs in the living room, a loaded shotgun resting atop his lap. He instantly lifted it up when I walked through the door.

“Dad, it’s me.” I said, keeping one hand on the door handle just in case.

I watched as he slowly lowered the gun to rest against the wall next to the chair, getting to his feet and coming over to me.

“Where the hell have you been?” He asked quietly.

“I was in the woods.” I replied. “ I got lost...”

“You got lost in the woods?” He repeated skeptically.

“I went to an area I’ve never been before.” I said.

“Now why would you do that?”

“I saw a wolf, and-”

“You chased after a wolf, completely unarmed?”

I hesitated before nodding, afraid of what he would say next. Instead, he just shook his head, heading up the stairs.

“Food’s in the microwave. I’m going to bed.”

I watched him go, then sigh and go over to the microwave, grabbing the small paper plate of mac and cheese, heading up to my room with a fork. I stop when I notice his bedroom door slightly open for once and hear a name I haven’t heard in a while.

“I just don’t know what to do with her anymore, Janice! She doesn’t listen...”

Janice? That’s my mom’s name. Dad said to never speak her name around him. I peek inside and see a photo frame sitting on his lap with a picture of my mother in it.

“Fallon went out into the woods today. Unarmed. I can’t deal with her acting like this anymore! She’s seventeen, almost an adult, and she still acts like a child. She can’t sit for more than five minutes without zoning out. She had a loaded gun and wasn’t paying any attention to how it was facing today because she zoned out. I can’t do this.”

I look down, then walk quickly towards my room. I slowly go over and sit on my bed, having completely lost my appetite. So that’s how he sees me...

© 2015 Silent Wolf

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S.Diane.L.

Ooh, this was an interesting read. I'm really curious about the wolf, I have some idea, but I won't think too much on it -- I'll disappoint or spoil it for myself!

I hope you'll write more for this, you're very talented.