NWoD Fiction: Living

[Timeslip]

The night was clear and crisp. The forest was quiet. The deer was elegant, bright eyes shining in the faint light of the crescent moon. And Sarah was hungry.

It had been nearly a week since it all happened. Since she had sought out those who could take away her meaningless life and gift her with a new existance. Since she had fought at the last against the deathly kiss of those cold, bright daggers that had drained her of mortality, and the burning fire that had awakened in her dying heart a hunger that became her world.

How hard it had been at first. Cold in a way that could never be warmed, Sarah had been released into the deep woods by her sire, with a simple but ominous charge ringing in her ears: survive or die.

It was far from the first time that she had to make her own way under the dark canopy; her kin had made no bones about the need for survival instincts, even in the sad peripheral roles with which they saddled one with such a deficient spirit. “You will never change,” they told her, “and you can never know the secrets of our way, but you will be useful in your limited way, and to be so, you need woodsense.” She had seethed at it then; now, she clung to that knowledge as a lifeline.

The old tricks still worked...indeed, they worked better, now that breathing was an option rather than a mandate. Ingrained lessons in how to place her feet, in the right balance to avoid a noisy stumble, in which leaves would silence her step and which would create a racket; these were second-nature to her now, and it was only by such means that Sarah had managed that first night to feed. The rabbit had been anything but filling, but the warm trickle of its vital essence had been as manna as it trickled down her throat, and had given her just a touch of the warmth she had lost with her life.

The first sunrise had found her desperately cowering, hunting for someplace to hide from the growing light filtering through the trees from the eastern sky. When something in her clicked, and she sank into the soft loam of the forest floor as if it were a mother’s arms, she was shocked…and then nothingness had swept the shock and all other thoughts from her mind. But the following night, after she had risen from sleep and soil and found the big doe drinking from a crystalline brook, the sharp wolf claws she suddenly found at the tips of her fingers did not bring shock – they brought her sheer, unadulterated joy. At long last, she had found some measure of what should have been her heritage...even if it came at the price of sun and stolen blood.

That was days ago, but the thrill of the hunt and the joy of the beautiful black talons was undiminished as she crept up on this deer, this lovely creature that would give unto her that sustaining ambrosia. Some part of Sarah knew the beast’s mind, that only a week before she had been the one at the end of claw and fang, and that small part of her empathized with the proud buck growing nearer. But the hunger was stronger…and the hunger would not be denied.

A mere dozen feet from her mark, something – perhaps a misplaced foot, maybe a whiff of her last meal, possibly just an uncanny sense of impending doom – alerted her prey, and the rack swung around as the deer stared straight into the eyes of death. A lunging pounce, a sweep of claws across its throat, a strangled cry…and it was over, as Sarah lapped at the sweet, sweet life that flowed from the beast.

The vampires – no, the Kindred, she reminded herself – whom she had met in that Machiavellian pit they called Elysium would not – could not – understand. This was not unlife, she thought as she drank deep of nature’s bounty beneath the forest’s encompassing arms. This was living.

[Timeslip]

Calling Amber. Damn, wasn't that just all kinds of fun...not.

I knew that it wouldn't go well. And frankly, I think that everyone else knew it, too, but they pretty much figured that if the "Lupines" were going to come out for blood and kibble, it might as well be my ass hanging out there on the line. The other Kindred were nervous as all hell about my presence, because they knew that the Lupines weren't given to quickly abandoning anything they thought of as theirs, and that if they found me, the worst would almost certainly be assumed...and a bloodbath would result. Elaine had couched the recommendation that I make this call in terms of my peace of mind and the like, but I knew damned well that what she was really concerned about was whether some huge furry monsters were going to be eating pieces of her mind.

All of this was going through my head while I plunked a couple of quarters down the gullet of one of the last pay phones in Columbia, tapped in the number, and waited through half a dozen rings. I could hear the answering machine just start to kick in when the line went live, and a gruff "Yeah?" came across. Yup, definitely Amber...and not one of her endearing traits.

"Amber, it's Sarah..." I managed to get out in a sort of quiet little voice, and I could hear her almost leaping through the phone.

"Sarah?!? Where are you, what happened?!? I'll come get you...."

"No, that wouldn't be a real good idea." Understatement of the year.

"Wha...what do you mean? C'mon, let me know where you are and I'll pick you up."

"No, Amber." I sighed, and tried to find a way to break this gently to my cousin. Funny really, considering that I'd spent most of my life hating her. "Look, it's a really bad idea for us to meet face-to-face right now. You see, my new friends are kinda worried that you and your new friends might very well come and try to turn us into chew-toys."

"What are you talking about?" I could hear a low undercurrent in her voice, a sort of distant threat of a storm. Amber wasn't exactly Ms. Calm at the best of times, and tended toward suspicion as well.

"OK, here it is. You know I was never happy. My life pretty much sucked, because I got the short end of the genetic stick. So...so I found my own path. A different path."

Amber's voice started to go tense. "What other path? There's werewolf and there's human...." I could hear, though, that she was already considering the unspoken alternatives to those two states of being...and not liking where things were going at all.

"You know there's more than that. You remember the guys we met at the gravel pit?" The low growl that came through the line wasn't really human anymore, and I wasn't surprised. When Amber's pack - with pathetic mortal little me - had gone chasing after the spirit-thingies a few weeks before, it had wound up with us in an unlikely meeting (and an unlikelier alliance) with what turned out to be the local undead. The rest of the pack was entirely unthrilled with vampires; I, on the contrary, was first stunned to find out that they were real...and then got the seed of an idea. An idea that eventually brought me to where I am now.

"Amber? Look, I just want to talk. I just want to make sure that you don't...." There was that tell-tale click in the line, and a dial tone; either she had crushed the phone in a now-furry hand, or had hung up.

On a chance - and out of necessity - I wagered on the latter. Two more quarters, another long series of rings...and the machine picked up. I knew damned well that Amber was still there...even if she wasn't in any condition to listen. Hoping that she would at least hear my message later, I dove in.

"Amber, I know you can hear this. You need to know that I sought out this path. And I'm happy. I don't want you coming after me or the rest of us. I have a life now. I...I might even get to turn into a wolf someday. Do you have any idea how much that means to me? It's all I ever wanted, and I was never going to get it. I know this isn't how this was supposed to happen, but please, just let me be happy now. Amber?" The machine clicked off, and a dial tone returned to the earpiece.

For a moment, I thought about calling back again...and instead, turned and walked away from the payphone and headed back down the street, towards the woods at the edge of town. This was Amber, I reminded myself; she won't be fit for talking for hours, if not days. But if I was lucky - if I was very, very lucky - she might understand the message after that...and that might just avert a war.

[Timeslip]

The old boards creaked as Sarah stepped up onto the ancient porch to face the payphone. The Pierpont Store was closest to the land she had staked out near Rock Bridge Park...and with the general turmoil going on in Columbia, it seemed a damned sight safer. Prince Nathanial was missing – though whether he was now ash or a coat rack was up for debate – and there were now at least three pretenders to the throne. Brainpan was mixed up in it somehow, too, though gods only know how. All of it added up to staying out of town for the most part...and so, the phone at the rustic country store was the best bet.

The quarters clinked home, and as she tapped out the number, Sarah promised herself that this would be it. Either she would talk to Amber and iron out what could be ironed out, or she’d get the machine and say her final goodbyes. Indeed, her anticipation was of the latter...so when Amber answered with her brusk “Yeah?”, Sarah was caught a touch off guard.

“Amber, it’s me. Don’t hang up,” she spat out as quickly as possible. To her surprise, the line stayed open; Amber said with a level tone, “What do you want?”

Inwardly sighing, Sarah tried to explain. “You got my message the other night, right?” There was an affirmative grunt, and she pressed on. “OK, I honestly don’t know all the details about what this deal was between Prince Thomas and your pack leader....”

Amber gave an exasperated sigh of her own, and asked, “Can you get to the point?”

“The big concern that we have is that you guys aren’t going to get pissed off and come after us because the deal collapsed.”

There was a little stretch of silence on the line, then “Quillan says we’re going to leave it alone.” Good, Sarah thought, she’s talked to him after she got my voicemail. That’ll make this easier.

“Good...that’s good. Uh, could you tell me what the deal was about? With Thomas dead, we’re sort of in the dark here....” Amber cut her cousin off. “That’s pack business.”

Sarah tried to press for a bit more. “Well, it’s Kindred business too, since whatever it was involved us.”

“That’s pack business,” Amber repeated flatly; it was crystal-clear to Sarah that nothing further would be forthcoming.

“OK, fine.” She pause for a second, then, “You aren’t going to come for me, are you Amber?”

Her cousin didn’t hesitate in her answer. “Quillan says that it was your choice, that you dug your grave and now you can lie in it. Just don’t call me again.”

A click of disconnection, then the dial tone. To empty air, Sarah quietly said, “Goodbye, Amber,” hung up the phone and stalked back off into the woods.