"Mornings are for sleep..."

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"Mornings are for sleep..."
evenwithme
There's no words. No greeting, no tentative show of submissive behavior to avoid an attack. No, it's the furthest thing from her mind. Everything in her has jumped to pure aggression. Just the sight of this wolf--this wolf she's never seen before, she knows she's never met, she's never been here before-- raises her hackles and puts her on the defense.
He's yet to flash his eyes. He's yet to bare his fangs or claws. He's yet to do anything, but she can't help hereself. Something in her recognizes something in him, and that empty space aches. The place where she's missing something, the source of her affliction.
Maybe she's finally found the real source of it all.
" You. . . You have something to do with this, don't you?"
evenwithme
"The infamous Peter Hale.. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
READ
If I get 6 ‘READ’ s The Mun Shall Record Themselves Reading a Passage of Literature
2/6
evenwithme replied to your post:for once i have no drafts bleSS
Tell me what that’s like? I haven’t had that since I made my very first blog. ~_~
It feels very freeing tbh 10/10 would recommend
She hated the way the town almost stained her skin. There was something evil here. A presence that wouldn’t have dared to trespass when her mother was still living and an alpha but alas, the time of the great Hale family was gone and all who remained were broken and scarred. Cora fought the twisting of her stomach waiting for Derek to finish treating their uncle. Lingering on the street corner a block away from the loft in the direction where the wind did not carry that burning stink of flesh, the young she-wolf waited until she received the all clear. Taking slow, dragged out steps, she eventually made it to the loft.
Sliding the large door open, Cora knew the relief at seeing him melted onto her features, despite her attempts to hide it. At this point between trying not to lose her stomach over the stench of burnt flesh, flesh she unfortunately immediately recognized as that of her uncle, and the utter relief at knowing at least one of her remaining family members wasn’t dead, the brunette made her way to her uncle, hands shoved into her pockets for the sake of doing something. Brown eyes scanning over the grown wolf trying to pinpoint fresh injury or burnt, her eyes lingered on his chest and she visibly paled, heart stuttering for a beat, muscle stiffening as the burnt stink only seeped into walls.
"You were hurt," she stated, split between a question and a statement. Cora curled one fist inwards, letting her caws pierce skin to keep herself from completely falling apart form disgust and the sickening ache in her stomach as the burnt odor only triggered more memories from a day she avoided if she could. “Are you okay?” The concern in the quiet question clear, regardless of her attempts to conceal it.
[text] Don’t touch anything.
SEND MY MUSE ONE OF THE FOLLOWING TEXTS TO SEE HOW THEY REACT (Panic version)
[ text ;; peter hale ] okay. um.[ text ;; peter hale ] i'm not gonna steal your stuff, if that's what you're thinking ?
"What are you going to do now?"