The forest was quiet around me, the only sound for miles was the soft gushing of a stream, small enough to step over, and the rustling of a bird in the canopy above. The sun shone through the leaves, glinting of the water in the stream and illuminating the dirt by my feet. I sank to the ground. I was tired and aching, my body was numb; I wanted so badly just to let go, just to be free. I curled myself up in the mud and fallen leaves and held back tears -- I could feel the itching in my skin, the change that was already starting, if I would just let it begin... but no. I couldn't. It was out of the question.
I was hungry. I looked around me, my eyes wondering from mud to branch and back to mud again. I could easily have died out in those woods. I knew where I was -- or, rather, I thought I did. I had been running for so long, I must have gotten to Washington, to where my Dad lived. Charlie. What would he think of me? When he knew what I had done? If things were simpler, then maybe I could have gone to him for help. As things stood, however, I was alone.
I felt my eyelids drooping... I was so tired...
I shut my eyes. The noises of the forest continued around me. I thought that if I could just lay there for a second, then maybe I could fight the change. Quickly, though, the darkness consumed me, surrounding me with sleep and the night. Soundly, in a heap on the forest floor, I slept.
I dreamt about my home town, where I had been born. Before the accident -- the mistake -- I had hated the small town vibe and all its greenery. It was too wet, too miserable, and I hated having to visit my father there every summer. After the accident, though, I felt a strange yearning to go back. There was something about the mountains and the mist and the near constant mud that drew me in, like I was a fish on the line and Forks was reeling me in. The pull was real and palpable, as real as the forest around me, and when I awoke from sleep deprived coma, I knew that I had to return.
I had been right when I thought that sleeping in such a weak state would make me vulnerable to it. As I opened my eyes I realized that I had changed, this time into something much smaller. I lifted my head -- my snout -- and tried to change back. No luck; all I could manage was a little snuffle and then a tiny sneeze.
I resigned myself to this form until I regained my strength. Luckily, it's easier to find food for an animal than a human, so I hoped it would actually make my journey easier -- and it was going to be quite some journey. Slowly, I pushed myself to my feet, or, rather, to my paws. I could still feel that pull, that invisible thread tying me to Forks. Perhaps, if I just followed it, I would find my way there.
With a little yap, I started forwards, trotting in the direction of the pull. Hopefully, I would find Forks, and maybe my father. Maybe, if I kept on running, I would out run the guilt.
It took me a week to run to Forks -- my legs were smaller in this new form, but faster; and I was much too small to hurt anyone. Finding food was harder than I thought; I had to hunt for the first time in my life, and although my belly was smaller it still took ages to find something big enough to eat. Raw rat meat wasn't particularly tasty, and although it didn't make me wretch as much as it would have if I were human, it was pretty grim to eat.
Eventually, I felt the air change around me. The mist got thicker and the now familiar tugging that I felt pulling me towards Forks disappeared. I knew I had arrived.
I slowed won my pace. I was still weak from the journey; I had been in the same body for a week and I wasn't sure if I was strong enough to change back. I thought that perhaps it would be better just to lay low for a few days and gather my strength, I could make a plan from there. I wanted to scout out the area anyway, to see how my father was doing before I decided whether or not I was going to come barreling back into his life.
I was approaching the border between the forest and the highway. In the distance cars drove down the road and the rain splashed against gravel. My hearing, which had improved a lot since i'd changed, let me hear all the little details my human ears used to miss -- like the footsteps coming towards me.
I froze. They were coming fast -- too fast a human -- and I didn't know what to do. They were coming towards me faster than I could run, and they were bigger, by the sounds of it, too. My fur was dripping wet in the rain and I was cold and tired -- I just wanted it to be over with. Why did something always have to go wrong?
I ducked under a nearby bush, hoping that it would hide me. I crouched down in the mud and tried not to make a sound. the running -- the footsteps -- got closer, closer and closer, until it stepped out from the trees.
I blinked in surprise. The beings in front of me were human, despite how fast I was going. I watched them one by one as the came ran to a stop and slowed down. The first one, who was small and pixie-like, with short black hair, was gesturing for the others to stop.
"Shh," she said. "There's something here."
