01. Welcome to New Orleans
Savannah ran her thumb nail between her teeth, fighting the urge to bite it off. It’d been ten years since she’d kicked the nasty habit, but in the last two days she’d nearly gnawed off the tips of every one of her nails. With a sharp sigh Savannah threw her hands into her lap, clasping them together and forcing herself to stop. She’d never admit it, but Savannah was dreading the day and what was to come. It made her feel different, almost sick to her stomach, and not quite herself. She’d spent the night before laying out different clothes, hoping to find something that might impress the big city pack, but looking over everything she became even more aware of how different she was.
They weren’t the same. They’d never be. If the Cleary pack wasn’t so big that thought might have scared her, but she had to remind herself they they were five, only five werewolves, and her pack was forty. Numbers were about the only thing Savannah had on her side at the moment. They were the only thing she could cling to, reminding herself that they needed her — they needed her pack — that she had the upper hand. Savannah let out another sigh, a much more steady sigh, as if to set the thoughts into her mind permanently.
A tap on the door interrupted her mental pep talk, followed by the sound of her mother’s silvery voice, “Honey, they’re here. The Ramsey pack is here.” Savannah took a quick glimpse around her room, taking in what very well could be her last moment alone for a long while. “For the pack,” she muttered at a barely audible volume, before heading out the door of her little house on the bayou.
The attacks had devastated them; Emilie herself had barely gotten out of her home alive, but others weren't so lucky. For the past few weeks her and her pack had been grieving their loses; some of her best friends had been killed by those damn hunters, and while Emilie knew she should be thankful to whatever higher being there was, she couldn't help but be bitter, especially because of what she would soon face.
Their pack was nothing more than a sham now, she knew that, and while she accepted the fact that they needed to align, she couldn't help but wish it was someone else. Out of the five that survived, four of them were men, so why couldn't they have taken one for the team? Of course, Emilie wasn't raised to let men take care of her, but she did wish things were different, and she reckoned she probably always would.
As she and her pack - her family - walked through the bayou, she couldn't help but shiver and get the creeps. She was disgusted. There were bugs everywhere, her shoes were being filled with muddy water, and she wasn't sure whether or not that bite was infected. Being a wolf, one might think that Emilie and her pack were used to messiness, but they weren't. They were city wolves, and their lives were about to change. Hopefully for the better.
They entered the territory of the Cleary pack wearily, looking around and feeling anxious at all the members who were watching them. Emilie and her father, however, kept their heads held high. They refused to let it show how uncomfortable they were, or how out of place they seemed.
"So... this is our new home." Were the only words she could say they approached Travis Cleary.