a butterfly in reverse

Grace. 18. A summer girl faded by cold, dreaming of visiting every ocean and drinking from a red coffeepot. In love with the boy with the golden heart to match his eyes.

[eliminated]

[recaption]

[lovelysummerwolf]

Let’s go home.

[g-a-y-af]

wish i was a little easier to love

[lovelysummerwolf]

Halfway Happy Hello (Grace and Victor)

[baranova-victor]

lovelysummerwolf

We are here. But i am not.

In my defense, I’m closer than I usually am. I am not away, in one thousand other hours, trapped in my own head. I’m right here. But Grace is not. Grace is back just a few paces, electing to disassociate, and to stay floating somewhere between the ghost of peppermint in her nostrils and the phantom of warmth on her face, radiating from her nose on out as she enters the Crooked Shelf, treats in tow. We are here. But Victor is not. In Victor’s defense, it’s f**king freezing outside, and Grace’s coat isn’t quite as warm as it looks. In fact, it makes Victor wonder how Grace keeps from shifting too. Some cynical part of Victor injects his brain with the thought of “well, you won’t have to wonder for long.” as the shift throws him to his knees and wrenches his spine into an arc. He looks to Grace, in panic and in pain. This process has never once been easy for Victor. Just like Sam, Victor feels every bone grind, every organ twist, and every hair pierce his skin as his humanity is ripped from his aching grasp. Grace, on the other hand…well Grace was just gone. With nothing more than a soft huff into the frigid air, Grace, or rather, i, let my humanity slip through my fingers like a fine silk. This impossible form of mine embraces me and i willingly run to it’s escape, and allow my body to be stolen by the wolf. By the next blink of my own eyes, I’m on all fours, hackles raised, snarl rumbling, ready to defend my beloved brother, fighting his losing battle with himself on the ground. By the next blink, i smell him before i see him, the familiar, intoxicating aroma of pine and moss, of wet earth and of warmth enveloping me, clogging my other senses. My snarl is cut off sharply into a whimper, almost a yelp, as though the air has bitten me. I feel the pack surrounding us and i know in me somewhere there’s a good chance they won’t know us anymore. I back up towards Victor, on guard, but hope shining in my eyes. There’s an eternity of silence between us and the snowfall. Then, like the shadow he’s always been to me, he steps from the woods and looks me in the eyes, a lifetime, Our lifetime, written across his face.

Sam.

herwinterwolf

Grace’s stance loosens as I nuzzle my head into hers. My eyes are closed, savoring the moment. It feels as if at any time the moment could break, like glass. The wind swirls quietly and softly around us, and I am acutely aware that we are still not alone. Not only does Victor stand not five feet away, but the pack surrounds us, having followed me.

It may look like a sappy reunion to them, but to me it’s everything.

Its been months - no - years since I’ve been able to nuzzle Grace like this. Since I’ve been able to give her my comfort and warmth. She is always so strong, and I admire her for it, but I know there’s a weak spot in both of us.

The day I disappeared was the day a piece of my heart shattered. The piece is a large one- the love I hold for Grace. I did not want to leave her for such a long time, but at the time it was necessary. I had heard the other members that stayed behind in Mercy Falls calling my name, endlessly searching for me. But I could not have returned without my summer girl.

It was almost spring, just barely cold enough to keep us wolves for very much longer, and my excitement couldn’t be contained. I longed to hold Grace again, to kiss her forehead, to stay up and laugh and listen to her read to me the stories she loved so much. Those are my favorite times.

I open my eyes after such a long moment that I’m not sure how much time has passed, and I see Victor still standing quietly behind us, watching. The only sounds are the faint wind and the slow beating of Grace’s heart in my ears.

I smile through my golden eyes at Victor, and I swear he smiles back. Although we’ve had some rough patches, Victor is always there for me. And I appreciate him for always being there for Grace in my absence.

As I release myself from the sweet smell of Grace, the pack emerges from the woods, and I feel Grace’s body stiffen once more.

I can’t let them hurt anyone. I can’t let this be the never ending feud.

I position myself between Grace and Victor and the pack, and I put up a stance.

No one is fighting here tonight.

baranova-victor

The air is thick with an unspoken tension in the woods that are not just woods, filled with wolves who aren’t only wolves. Grace’s body stands in front of me, a tall and proud statue shielding me from the wolf in front of us as I join her in species. Body aching as it adjusts to its new form, I peer around Grace and the wolf’s eyes lock with my own – searing golden eyes piercing into my own with so much intention and familiarity and emotion.

Sam. Sam. Sam. He’s really here. Sam.

His muzzle rests against Grace in a way that speaks all the words that could have never been said aloud. I love you, welcome home.

I sense them before I see them – footsteps present in the undergrowth of the trees, surrounding us from all angles. I should’ve been expecting it. Wherever Sam goes, the pack can’t be far behind. They have always been his silent protectors, his body guards. Even if they are merely in the background.

Serious, deep eyes meet my own through the density of the leaves. Beck. He emerges from the brush, head held high in confident leadership. Soon after, the others trod softly into the clearing, omnipresent in both our minds and in physical formation. Every bone in my body aches to join them. I have to keep repeating the mission in my head. Find Sam. Bring Sam back. Find Sam. Bring Sam back.

Beck’s eyes squint at us with mild curiosity in an abruptly human gesture, head cocked to the side. Sam’s eyes flicker to his, and back to Grace. I can see the internal conflict inside of him. How hard it is to leave the only father he’s ever known, after being reunited again. But it isn’t a choice for him. It never was, and never will be. Grace is the axis of which his world spins. The gravitational force keeping him grounded. His sun and moon. 

A flash of reddish brown fur catches my attention, lingering towards the back of the pack. Familiar green eyes stare back at me. Cole. The name is like a sudden slap t the face in my wolf brain, recognition from another life foreign, yet present. An emotion I don’t recognize in this life floods me, and I can’t help but stare back at him, mesmerized like so many others who have been in the presence of Cole St. Clair.

[lovelysummerwolf]

Sam. Sam! After all that, it’s come to Sam. My unbridled joy nearly renders me useless, my body becoming loose and bouncy with recognition, my muscles relaxing, my guard slowly lowering as the sun that rises in my east and sets in my west steps out from behind the trees. When he steps into me, nuzzling his head against mine and whining softly, that is when I’m truly lost, and in the same breath, found. Again i am spiraling into the thousand more moments. Ones we’ll get to have now that we’ve found Sam. Now we’ll be able to be together As a family as a pack, and run into the Boundary Woods together, i- I am forced to sever my own thoughts, the Wolf Now Outside of Grace taking control where it’s unwelcome. I know I have to be careful. With every shift, I give her more and more power. Someday, she’ll wipe me from my own mind and leave me out here in the woods. My lupine form has no capacity for the emotions my still so human mind is experiencing, and my body is convulsing with what feels like tears of joy, though my face remains completely dry. Victor, bless him, brings me back yet again, when a white she-wolf slinks out into the group. Victor’s body is wracked with a growl so mighty it nearly knocks him over. My eyes snap open at his tone and my mind switches off completely, The Wolf Outside of Grace overriding my every thought and emotion. She takes over completely and contorts my body into a terror, something large and mean and willing to take blood. Only one wolf could ever make me react this way.  Shelby. Just as quickly as I returned to my body, I am a ghost again, watching an impressively small and tawny wolf snarl and snap at a stark white and gaunt pack member a few yards away. I am a ghost, and as ghosts do, I can feel myself slipping away. I can no longer tell who was the outsider and who wasn’t. The tawny wolf seemed a natural fit for the pack. The white wolf seemed unhinged somehow, like something wasn’t quite right. Yet, she was powerful.  I hear no sounds, but i watch the little tawny wolf react to them. She’s scared, but brave. Loving, yet there’s brutality on her breath.  I wonder absently who she is. Who she was. I wonder why the yellow eyed wolf looks at her that way. I wonder why the large black wolf isn’t more alarmed. I wonder why the two behind her are oblivious to her outburst, now that they’ve spotted one another. The little tawny wolf lunges forward at the white she wolf, then backs away again, teasing her. The Grace Inside the Wolf lays down to sleep.

[especially]

[lovelysummerwolf]

Take me to her, Vic. Take me to Isabel.

[divine-brat]

came out swinging // the wonder years not my picture, just my edit

[recaption]

[lovelysummerwolf]

Sam? Are you there? Am I here? Sam?

[exfr]

[lovelysummerwolf]

Halfway Happy Hello (Grace and Victor)

[baranova-victor]

lovelysummerwolf

I have to bite my tongue to keep from scoffing at Victor. I know he knows me well enough. I’ve changed my hair and bought a new winter coat in a shade of red I never even knew I liked, but I’m still Grace, calculated and measured. Or at least I hope I am, somewhere. Either way, he knows I have a destination in mind for us. He knows I’ve taken his rapidly cooling hand in mine to take him somewhere of significance. The Golden Wood. No one ever named it beyond that. Not for a lack of trying, but for a lack of better words to describe it. The Golden Wood. It’s exactly what it is, what it was, and what it will be, long after my pack has gone. The Golden Wood. It will remain there, frozen in time, everlasting past the next pack, and the next, until there are no more packs to pass through it. Until there is no more sun. Until there is no more time. It calls to me, reaches out for me, branches just grazing the pale skin at the nape of my neck, making me shiver, and telling The Wolf Inside of Grace that we’re going the right way. it’s song is ancient, pure, organic in a way neither of my wretched, misguided forms could ever be- and I know, i know Sam hears it too.

It’s where he took me, years ago now, when I had longer hair and a bigger, softer smile. If I close my eyes, I swear I can taste my own peppermint cocoa, and his green tea clashing on my tongue. “Grace!” Victor’s honey whiskey voice barks sharply, not with anger, but with sternness. My eyes snap open, suddenly aware that Grace had let them close, allowing the Wolf Inside of Grace to carry on, slinking forward through the trees as though she had never been anywhere else. Victor refuses to look away until I meet his eyes again, until I prove to him I’m here, in this moment, not drifting away into a thousand others. I can’t help but chuckle, breaking my own silent spell over myself. “Victor my dear…” I start, shaking my head. The sentence comes to a divergence and I pause, unsure of it’s path. “…I become so much of what I remember of Sam sometimes, I’m not sure where Grace can be found anymore.” “…The wood is just a little further, do you need my coat?” “…take my coat.” “…let’s go home.” In my pause, the Wolves Inside of Us become alert, the silence more deafening now than it was before. The hairs on the back of our necks stand straight. Victor shivers violently, prompting me to throw my coat over his shoulders and push him behind me protectively, my lip curled in a half-snarl. I’m not going to finish my sentence.

We are no longer alone.

baranova-victor

Time seems to stand still in these woods, even as a human. As soon as we step into the undergrowth, it feels almost as though we have stepped into another dimension. It’s disorienting, to say the least. It makes my mind reel and stomach revolt inside of my gut. I’ve never felt more unsure of my surroundings and my body. I’ve never felt more sure.

Grace’s body comes to a halt in front of me, and I have to dig the toes of my sneakers into the dirt to stop from tumbling into her. “Grace?” my voice is hesitant even to my own ears, wavering. If she hears, she shows no signs of it, limbs stiff against her sides.

I peer around her, and watch her eyes flutter closed, eyelashes casting shadows along her cheekbones, jaw set, chin up towards the furthest leaves atop the trees, her body here, but her mind so clearly elsewhere. Grace has clocked out for the evening. Check again during business hours.

I watch her fingertips begin to tremble at her sides, knees bending forward slightly, as if they may buckle altogether. It is almost a moment too late that I realize what’s happening.

“Grace!” I find my voice again, snapping Grace out of her reverie. Her eyes shoot open at once, her entire posture and expression changing abruptly as her dark eyes finding mine, the trace of a smile haunting the very corners of her lips. There is a new feral-ness to her that I didn’t know existed, one that I hadn’t noticed she lacked until i saw it manifesting so clearly now. 

A violent tremor takes hold of my body, every hair on my body suddenly standing straight on its end. My senses are aware of it before my brain can even attempt to comprehend it – we are not alone.

The girl in front of me sheds her coat like a second skin, enveloping me into it in a swift movement, my body shielded behind hers instantaneously.

“Grace –” I start to say, but the syllables following are lost as quickly as they came. I feel myself coming unraveled, legs folding from underneath me. I struggle to stand, knowing damn well the moment I fall, I will not be standing back up on two legs.

Deafening white noise rings against my ears, gaining intensity with each passing second. It’s the kind of silence that only comes with overwhelming presence not far behind. 

They are here. But so are we.

[lovelysummerwolf]

We are here. But i am not.

In my defense, I’m closer than I usually am. I am not away, in one thousand other hours, trapped in my own head.  I’m right here. But Grace is not. Grace is back just a few paces, electing to disassociate, and to stay floating somewhere between the ghost of peppermint in her nostrils and the phantom of warmth on her face, radiating from her nose on out as she enters the Crooked Shelf, treats in tow. We are here. But Victor is not. In Victor’s defense, it’s f**king freezing outside, and Grace’s coat isn’t quite as warm as it looks. In fact, it makes Victor wonder how Grace keeps from shifting too. Some cynical part of Victor injects his brain with the thought of “well, you won’t have to wonder for long.” as the shift throws him to his knees and wrenches his spine into an arc. He looks to Grace, in panic and in pain. This process has never once been easy for Victor. Just like Sam, Victor feels every bone grind, every organ twist, and every hair pierce his skin as his humanity is ripped from his aching grasp. Grace, on the other hand...well Grace was just gone. With nothing more than a soft huff into the frigid air, Grace, or rather, i, let my humanity slip through my fingers like a fine silk. This impossible form of mine embraces me and i willingly run to it’s escape, and allow my body to be stolen by the wolf. By the next blink of my own eyes, I’m on all fours, hackles raised, snarl rumbling, ready to defend my beloved brother, fighting his losing battle with himself on the ground.  By the next blink, i smell him before i see him, the familiar, intoxicating aroma of pine and moss, of wet earth and of warmth enveloping me, clogging my other senses. My snarl is cut off sharply into a whimper, almost a yelp, as though the air has bitten me.  I feel the pack surrounding us and i know in me somewhere there’s a good chance they won’t know us anymore. I back up towards Victor, on guard, but hope shining in my eyes.  There’s an eternity of silence between us and the snowfall. Then, like the shadow he’s always been to me, he steps from the woods and looks me in the eyes, a lifetime, Our lifetime, written across his face.

Sam.

[destroymylife]

[lovelysummerwolf]

Siiiiiigh....

[lovelysummerwolf]

Halfway Happy Hello (Grace and Victor)

[baranova-victor]

dlovelysummerwolf

I’m hyper aware that the Jeep has come to a stop at the trailhead, and I am stalling. I don’t know why I’m stalking, I mean stalling…”You’re the one who asked to come here, Grace Brisbane!” I remind myself in a harsh mental tone. As naturally as I can, I untangle the knot I’ve twisted my body into on Victor’s seat and peer out the window. I know he can feel my heart racing. Maybe even hear it. I know he knows why we’re here. But I don’t have the energy to be sheepish or embarrassed. An Airborne Toxic Event song echos tauntingly in my mind, urging me forward that I “just have to see him..” I reach for my coffee and drain the cup, the sound of it’s emptiness seeming to fill the space of the car. I know we’re waiting on me. I push my hair that’s no longer even there out of my eyes, a muscle memory of a habit, and I reach for the door handle, stopping short. Victor frowns. I know he’s being generous in his silence, letting me do what I have to to get by. I know that and I’m grateful to him. Somewhere in the distant woods, a howl. Maybe the wind. Maybe the wolves. Either way, my choice has now been made for me, my lurching heart pushing my body forward, ignoring my static filled mind. I look back at Victor, letting him finally peer into my dark brown, anxiety stricken eyes, and finally dropping the wannabe chipper, “let’s go for a hike!” attitude. This seems to relieve him somehow and I squeeze his hand again, popping open the door and hopping out, the familiar scents around us overwhelming both Grace and the Wolf Inside Of Grace. Sometimes it helps to separate the two. Sometimes and somehow that just blurs the lines more. Grace shuts the door and stretches her body, introducing her skin to the air of Boundary Woods again. The Wolf Inside Of Grace does the same, scenting the air instinctively, searching for someone familiar. We both walk around the car, as ready and as steady as we’re both going to be, to lead Victor to the Golden Wood.

baranova-victor

Grace’s cup slams back into the cup-holder with purpose, now empty. Her eyes seem to mirror it, looking lost and scared and empty, yet filled with too many emotions to place. I squeeze her hand back, and then we are off.

Although it was never said, I know we’re hunting for Sam. I don’t voice my own doubts on the situation, knowing fully well Grace has enough for the both of us. I also don’t mention the very real possibility of me shifting in the middle of our search. It’s been a while since I shifted – uncharacteristically so, given my unstable track record. I’m sure Grace is aware of that, too. Every decision has been carefully calculated – she has assessed the risks. It is the logical Grace Way.

As I step out of the car, my senses heighten, the wolf inside immediately recognizing its home, its pack lingering within the trees’ depths. Grace feels it too – her body seeming to belong to these woods, her eyes gaining a new sense of identity and wildness that they lacked before. It’s a little awe-striking – seeing someone who seems to obviously born for this life morph into it before my very eyes. I know I can’t possibly look this at home here.

Grace wanders around the car, eyes closed, ingesting all of the sounds and feelings the woods give off at once, and then she opens her eyes and holds her hand out to me, guiding me forward with a look of quiet confidence in her eyes. I think I would follow her anywhere.

We don’t speak as we walk, Grace one step ahead of me, feet hardly making a sound as we walk, all too familiar with each dip and crevice in the ground, even if our human forms aren’t. I hug my jacket closer to my body as we walk, trying to keep any escaping feelings of fear from flying out. 

Grace’s cropped hair tangles in the wind, her shampoo and own scent of Grace drifting into the air, alerting any lingering presence that she is here. Alerting Sam that she is here.

“Are we going somewhere specific?” my voice is barely above a whisper, as if I am afraid of scaring her off.

[lovelysummerwolf]

I have to bite my tongue to keep from scoffing at Victor. I know he knows me well enough. I’ve changed my hair and bought a new winter coat in a shade of red I never even knew I liked, but I’m still Grace, calculated and measured. Or at least I hope I am, somewhere. Either way, he knows I have a destination in mind for us. He knows I’ve taken his rapidly cooling hand in mine to take him somewhere of significance. The Golden Wood. No one ever named it beyond that. Not for a lack of trying, but for a lack of better words to describe it.  The Golden Wood. It’s exactly what it is, what it was, and what it will be, long after my pack has gone. The Golden Wood. It will remain there, frozen in time, everlasting past the next pack, and the next, until there are no more packs to pass through it. Until there is no more sun. Until there is no more time. It calls to me, reaches out for me, branches just grazing the pale skin at the nape of my neck, making me shiver, and telling The Wolf Inside of Grace that we’re going the right way. it’s song is ancient, pure, organic in a way neither of my wretched, misguided forms could ever be- and I know, i know Sam hears it too.

It’s where he took me, years ago now, when I had longer hair and a bigger, softer smile. If I close my eyes, I swear I can taste my own peppermint cocoa, and his green tea clashing on my tongue. “Grace!” Victor’s honey whiskey voice barks sharply, not with anger, but with sternness. My eyes snap open, suddenly aware that Grace had let them close, allowing the Wolf Inside of Grace to carry on, slinking forward through the trees as though she had never been anywhere else. Victor refuses to look away until I meet his eyes again, until I prove to him I’m here, in this moment, not drifting away into a thousand others. I can’t help but chuckle, breaking my own silent spell over myself. “Victor my dear...” I start, shaking my head. The sentence comes to a divergence and I pause, unsure of it’s path. “...I become so much of what I remember of Sam sometimes, I’m not sure where Grace can be found anymore.” “...The wood is just a little further, do you need my coat?” “...take my coat.” “...let’s go home.” In my pause, the Wolves Inside of Us become alert, the silence more deafening now than it was before. The hairs on the back of our necks stand straight. Victor shivers violently, prompting me to throw my coat over his shoulders and push him behind me protectively, my lip curled in a half-snarl. I’m not going to finish my sentence.

We are no longer alone.

[understands]

[lovelysummerwolf]

Sometimes, I fancy myself a forest goddess, like this.

[stfu-isabel]

INCOMING TEXT: Isabel via Grace

Isabel: hey, i know you’re busy being a nerd at school or whatever, but can we get together to talk?

[lovelysummerwolf]

Grace: yeah! Im actually back in town as of 5 minutes ago, with Victor for the afternoon. Wanna grab dinner after? Or whatever it is that Isabel’s eat?

[stfu-isabel]

Isabel: dinner sounds 👌.  meet you there around 7?

[lovelysummerwolf]

Grace: 7 it is. You pick the place and send me the address, otherwise I’m going to make you go to that old man burger joint again. 😈

[stfu-isabel]

Isabel: dear god i don’t think i can handle that again. i’ve never seen such a well marketed place catered by old men, FOR old men. 🙄 lets meet here

Isabel: GOOGLE MAPS LINK ATTACHED

[lovelysummerwolf]

Grace: Deal. I can’t pronounce the name, but I’ll see you there. Something tells me this is a sushi place...

[magic-spelldust]

[stfu-isabel]

INCOMING TEXT: Isabel via Grace

Isabel: hey, i know you’re busy being a nerd at school or whatever, but can we get together to talk?

[lovelysummerwolf]

Grace: yeah! Im actually back in town as of 5 minutes ago, with Victor for the afternoon. Wanna grab dinner after? Or whatever it is that Isabel’s eat?

[stfu-isabel]

Isabel: dinner sounds 👌.  meet you there around 7?

[lovelysummerwolf]

Grace: 7 it is. You pick the place and send me the address, otherwise I’m going to make you go to that old man burger joint again. 😈

[lovelysummerwolf]

Halfway Happy Hello (Grace and Victor)

[baranova-victor]

lovelysummerwolf

Mercy Falls. Or at least, the outskirts of it.

The part of town that’s just familiar enough, but is still empty and a stranger to me. As we pull closer to the parts of town I really remember, I reach for Victor’s warm, dry hand and give it a squeeze.

“Maybe not through Europe, but actually a hike sounds really…” i search for a word that didn’t make it sound like I was trying to get a glimpse of Sam. “Nice.” i land on, wincing a little.

I should know better than to try and pull white lies over Victor’s all knowing eyes. He may not let on often, but he’s watching everyone’s move around him, all of the time. It’s something I think a lot of the wolves do now when we’re human. I don’t know if it’s a gift or a curse. I guess that could be said about a lot of things about us all though.

We pass by the coffeehouse I’ll be working at again by tomorrow and I frown, more nervous to see my old coworker, Hunter again than I had originally accounted for. I push the queasiness aside and look to Victor, holding my breath.

Victor gives me the relief of a smile and hangs a left at the stoplight in the center of town, obliging my clumsy request and heading toward the thick of Boundary Wood. My tense face relaxes into a smile and I pull my legs up on to the bench seat, folding myself up in an unnervingly Sam-like way, something I don’t seem to notice, but Victor absolutely does.

“College is…” I start in, telling him of my classes and my roommate who was kicked out early, and how it was to be living alone in my own space rather than rubbing elbows with ghosts while I try and make my morning toast. Victor can tell I’m exhausted, that being away from home for so long had taken some wind from my sails. As I continue to talk, I find myself gripping Victor’s hand again, just thirsty for the gentle human contact.

baranova-victor

Grace’s hand finds mine in an instant, and it gives me a sense of calmness, like everything is where it should be, at least for the moment.

Grace’s attempt at indifferent interest in the hike is so transparent it’s almost laughable – in the least funny way it could possibly be. I see the way her teeth worry at her bottom lip as her serious eyes gaze through the window, darting back and forth at the slightest movement as we drive by. Sam.

It’s like an unspoken rule between us – she becomes a faded ghost of Sam’s mannerisms and interests, and I pretend not to notice. She pretends to be okay, and I pretend to believe it.

I take the scenic route – meaning the way that involves the least amount of Sam that could be lingering in the nooks and crannies of Mercy Falls. No Cooked Shelf, no little bakery on the corner. He’s everywhere, though. I can picture Sam walking alongside the sidewalk, sneakers scuffing the sidewalk, hood up, fingers twisted around Grace’s as they walk the town. If I can picture it with such ease, I know Grace can.

I squeeze Grace’s hand as she wraps herself into a little Grace-ball in the seat beside me, her chin resting on her bony kneecap, fingers clasping onto me like a lifeline. I squeeze them and catch her eye, smiling at her, laughing at her stories of insane professors and boring classes and interesting ones, and joking back with her, internally frowning at the loneliness college seems to possess for her.

“Grace Brisbane, you are a goddamn genius.” I say. “I could never do college. I didn’t even finish high school. But don’t tell.” I wink at her over my sunglasses. High school and the normalcy of public education seems like a different planet now.

The trees become thicker and thicker as I drive. I slow our pace as the road becomes less and less. I let the Jeep idle for a while as Grace and I sit there, pushing my seat back and listening to her talk about the color of her sink in the dormitory and mundane college lifestyle for a little while longer. I wish we could stay in this moment forever – Grace lost in her own thoughts and laughing with me – rather than face the reality of everything, our hands pressed together on the center console connecting us.

[lovelysummerwolf]

I’m hyper aware that the Jeep has come to a stop at the trailhead, and I am stalling.  I don’t know why I’m stalking, I mean stalling...”You’re the one who asked to come here, Grace Brisbane!” I remind myself in a harsh mental tone. As naturally as I can, I untangle the knot I’ve twisted my body into on Victor’s seat and peer out the window. I know he can feel my heart racing. Maybe even hear it. I know he knows why we’re here. But I don’t have the energy to be sheepish or embarrassed. An Airborne Toxic Event song echos tauntingly in my mind, urging me forward that I “just have to see him..”  I reach for my coffee and drain the cup, the sound of it’s emptiness seeming to fill the space of the car. I know we’re waiting on me. I push my hair that’s no longer even there out of my eyes, a muscle memory of a habit, and I reach for the door handle, stopping short.  Victor frowns. I know he’s being generous in his silence, letting me do what I have to to get by. I know that and I’m grateful to him.  Somewhere in the distant woods, a howl. Maybe the wind. Maybe the wolves. Either way, my choice has now been made for me, my lurching heart pushing my body forward, ignoring my static filled mind. I look back at Victor, letting him finally peer into my dark brown, anxiety stricken eyes, and finally dropping the wannabe chipper, “let’s go for a hike!” attitude. This seems to relieve him somehow and I squeeze his hand again, popping open the door and hopping out, the familiar scents around us overwhelming both Grace and the Wolf Inside Of Grace.  Sometimes it helps to separate the two. Sometimes and somehow that just blurs the lines more. Grace shuts the door and stretches her body, introducing her skin to the air of Boundary Woods again. The Wolf Inside Of Grace does the same, scenting the air instinctively, searching for someone familiar. We both walk around the car, as ready and as steady as we’re both going to be, to lead Victor to the Golden Wood.

[stfu-isabel]

INCOMING TEXT: Isabel via Grace

Isabel: hey, i know you're busy being a nerd at school or whatever, but can we get together to talk?

[lovelysummerwolf]

Grace: yeah! Im actually back in town as of 5 minutes ago, with Victor for the afternoon. Wanna grab dinner after? Or whatever it is that Isabel’s eat?