Rejected Mate and Following Fate

I lay on the makeshift fur bed I made myself last night, resting on my stomach lazily with a good size of the pelt over the top of
me, hands crossed under my chin as I watch the early morning birds peck at the scraps I left on my cooking stone. Dancing
around and merrily, eating what little I left behind. The fire has long smoldered out and everything around me is dewy with early
morning moisture. Everything still, and peaceful, in the morning glow of a newly rising sun, and oddly still. I made it through
another night, and I'm still here, waking with a better mood with every day this pans out.
I didn't find a cave or shelter last night, so curled up in the bear pelt, that took me a full four days to scrape and clean and dry out
in the sun on the hottest rocks I could find. I'm no expert in tanning, or preserving pelts, but it works enough, even if it's a bit stiff
and smelly, and it's worth lugging with me every day, despite the added bulk and weight. I sliced it into four manageable sizes for
rolling and binding on my back, two for under me at night, spread out like a thin mattress with some comfort, one rolls up as a
make shift pillow, be it a stiff one, and is currently off to one side, and the largest piece I flip fur down and lay over me as a
weatherproof blanket, covering on top of the single blanket I carry with me. It keeps me dry anyway, because I don't need the
warmth, but I do like the coziness it provides me, even in caves. It gives me a sense of security, and not feeling as exposed
when caught in a black surround made of slightly rough fur.
I've been sleeping a little better since that battle. I don't know if it's because I learned something about my own strength, and it
boosted my confidence, or if it was just having some slight comfort to use as bedding, and the knowledge I did this all by myself,
that helps me sleep a little easier. My senses are not as unstable and panic wired lately, and I feel less on edge.
I mean, I still keep one eye open at all times and stay alert, but I'm not as nervy as I was, and I don't feel quite so bereft in terms
of low mood. I feel capable, like I've gotten through the worst and I know I can do this. A newfound self-respect in my own
capability, that's changing my whole outlook. Maybe skinning a bear and dealing with that disgustingness showed me I have way
more stomach than I thought I did.
I'm learning to turn at will too, improving that ability and can almost turn in my sleep now without a second thought. Easy as
breathing the more I do it, and I can sustain it for longer as my stamina builds. I can even turn singular parts, like my hand,
without a full body turn, which means I'm gaining the control I needed. Like Colton, who uses his eyes to warn when he doesn't
want to use his alpha gift, or turn fully ... I'm learning how to do it. I can physically feel when I make my eyes change now.
The weird thing though, is my paws and stomach, they seem to be whiter than I remember, with each turn, and without a mirror
to fully inspect myself, I can't tell if I am losing grey. It sounds stupid, but I think my grey fur is falling out, or getting lighter, and I

don't know why. My legs, I'm certain were fully grey, but now, my feet are white too, and I don't know if maybe I just remember
them dirty, or it was dark the first time I turned, but they're snow white now.
I yawn and stretch out lazily, rolling over under my makeshift cocoon, the rough fur grazing my naked skin in an oddly comforting
way, and turn to gaze up at the clear sky this morning. Almost tropical blue and cloudless, with no hints of bad weather or rain
like a few days back. A great day for an early start, and as I've come up against some uphill terrain in a pretty thick part of forest,
I should savor some of this before I hit the shadows of the canopy. It's dusky and gloomy in the dense parts and I like to find
clearings to settle at night, so I can wake with the light.
I made a direction change after I set off from my bear battlefield too. Maybe it was the newfound self confidence in my abilities,
maybe it was the adrenalin clouding my brain, but I decided to embrace my gut instinct and head east, just like my gut kept
telling me to do. It's not like I have anyone dictating otherwise, or any destination I am aiming for.
It paid off, and after I did a spot check tree climb to see which direction the mountain lay, I surveyed the land and noted that
south was taking me towards clear landscape, fields, and open lands with the hints of a town or city ahead. East was taking me
into the mountains, with dense woods, a lot of lower hills and cliffs scattered in continuous canopy cover, and a lot of forest to get
lost in. I don't want to be among people if I can help it, so my decision was made. East it was, and since then I feel strangely
peaceful.
It's like the stirring aching feelings were not all about Colton, and home, and being alone. As soon as I hit my new direction,
something inside of me stopped praying on my thoughts, constantly filling me with a sense of wrong and despair. It's almost like I
answered something that had been bugging me, and maybe I should just embrace the fact my instincts were telling me east
made more sense. Which it does, even if I'm no longer heading away from the mountain, but sort of parallel to it now. I feel like
I'm far enough that I will never accidently stray into the path of a Santo, even if they do come miles for whatever reason. It's a big
world, and it would be minimal for a chance encounter.
There's no wind today and I have enough scraps from a deer I felled last night for a breakfast. I smoked a lot of the left over
through the night, in a makeshift canopy I stuck over the fire, and let some dry out in the sun before it went down, so I don't need
to stop for food today at all. I can eat the semi cured or dried meats and push on. I also packed enough raw in my backpack for
later. Now I have a goal in mind, and a new plan, I'm raring to go. The sense of feeling lost is momentarily quiet and it's a good
feeling to have respite in some small way.
Last tree I climbed, I caught onto a large distant mountain, not too dissimilar to ours, with a base dipped in the luscious green of
the forest kissing its feet. I want to get there. The trek looks a couple of days, and in the woods as dense as this, I can hyper
speed with no fear of being seen. There are no people, but the trees are so closely grown that I may have to take detours into

clearings to push through some of it to proceed in that direction. It's proper wild land, not man planted and spaced out, and
barely grazed by human intervention. Perfect for a lone wolf who wants to disappear into oblivion, never to be found again.
The mountain is the goal, and I hope when I get there, I can find a more permanent dwelling so I can start improving my home
comforts. I'm capable of being crafty with my hands, and if I find a cave big enough, I might be able to fashion some necessary
things, like clay pots, maybe a chair from woven branches. The more I can make my final landing spot seem half civilized, maybe
the more certain of my future I will be. Eventually the homesickness will stop, and maybe one day, thinking about him will go
away too. I can't deny I've still cried in low points, and woken with him in my dreams, his touch on my skin, his lips on mine, his
voice bringing me home.
Those have been the hardest points, where I woke with longing, to find he wasn't really here and reality slapped me in the face,
the sound of him still lingering in my mind and weakening me to want me to reach out and link him. Just to hear that sultry, husky,
reassuring tone for real. It would break me for a moment, I'd cry it out, and then feel numb for a while until the sun came up and
reminded me why I should only hate him and never give him more than my anger.
So far, I've retained the strength to not open the link and just touch him, even for a tiny fraction of a second. I don't want to feel
him in my head, because if I do, my strength will evaporate, and I might give up entirely at a time I'm only starting to come into
my own. I need to stay strong for myself.
I'm not going to lie and say I don't miss a real home, beds, carpets, and all the luxuries of the valley, but I'm free. I can go where I
want, answer to no one, and it's not like I have any sort of desire to find a mate now, so there's no point in being around wolves.
My heart will always belong to him, even if he's denied it and moved on. I would rather be alone than lie about my love for
someone new, just to have company. Resigned myself to the fact, I'll love him until I pass, no matter how many years that takes.
I make swift work of getting up and pulling my now dry clothes off the rocks. I washed everything yesterday and slept naked in
my fur bed, in the hopes of feeling less grubby today, less scraping by, and more pulled together. Washed myself head to foot
with the last of my soap, braided my hair into two plaits hanging down each side of my head to let it dry. I was starting to feel
scruffy and feral lately and needed to remind myself that I'm still part human, and the little things, like grooming, can make a
world of difference. I feel somehow determined, and cleaner, like I have an actual purpose.