Rejected Mate and Following Fate

I pack my things, roll up my furs, and eat some of my dried meats as I encase them in large leaves to get ready to go. Binding
and tying everything in and to the backpack with vines I corded yesterday, and drag it all on my back, bouncing the weight up to
adjust the straps, and reacclimatizing to the weight.
My sneakers are getting scuffed and worn and soon I might have to start finding tree sap to make minor repairs to make them
last, or venture towards the human spots in time, to use what money I have for something longer lasting. I didn't expect them to
start giving out quite so soon, and in hindsight, I should have brought boots and not these when going off grid. That's the only
downside to all this. The human part has certain requirements that nature won't provide unless I get creative. Shoes are not in
my skill set, and I'm not sure my human feet could handle the debris of forest floor without them. I would have to turn to go any
distance and probably pull a thousand piece of grit and broken wood out of my feet every night.
I fill my belly with meat and water and head off, leaving no trace behind me after scattering the remnants of my fire and burying
the ash. It's something my father always ingrained into me, that when you leave a camp it should bear no evidence you were
ever there. We should respect nature and leave it as untouched as we found it. I'm always careful to bury or burn the carcasses
of my kills, clean the blood from where I skin them or eat them and keep everything neat and clean. It's served me well so far.
Mentally I feel lighter, not that any of my previous wants and desires or heart break is forgotten, but I'm getting better at handling
it. My dreams they vary, but always around the same things and I'm still dreaming of Sierra most nights.
I thought it would have faded onto something new by now but she's persistent, and since I started turning east, it's almost like the
dream becomes more prominent, the vision stronger. Last night, I swear I could smell scent in the white space around me, smell
her, and it had a familiarity I couldn't quite put my finger on. Like a long-lost distant memory, always out of reach, and it gave me
a headache trying to claw for it when I woke up in the night, at the utterance of her same old two-word command. If I didn't know
better, I would think I know how she smells, but maybe it's from distant memory when she used to read at the library when I was
very little, and I somehow retained it. And her voice, like Colton's yet not, which lingers hauntingly, so equally known to me.
"Save us." It's only ever that, nothing else.
The weirdest thing I've started to notice about the dream, is in it, I'm not as I am now. I've looked down, seen my own hands
while in the white room, when she clasps them in hers. My hands are that of a child, small, delicate, dwarfed in hers, which
makes even less sense to me. I guess though, like the lost almost forgotten sense of familiar smell, and sound, maybe the
dream too is a nod that this all comes at me from way back as a child and I've forgotten. Confused into a senseless moment,

reminding me I did once upon a time know who she was. I have all but given up trying to dissect the meaning though, as there
doesn't seem to be one.
I come to a relative clearing in the wood on my path, hot and achy from covering miles of ground in fast mode and stop to catch
my breath. I drop my bags, by sliding them from tired shoulders with a heavy thud and stretch my body out with an amazing
amount of crunching and cracking in the depths of my skin and bones. It feels good, despite the worrying noises. Extending my
arms fully and stretching out, extending fingers and limbs to full capacity, making an 'argghhh' sound as I do so, relieved to lose
that weight and able to straighten up without it. I curve my spin and bend my neck from side to side glad to be free, cracking it
satisfyingly.
I roll my shoulders and pace around the clearing to make sure it's a safe spot to stop, eyes darting, ears honed in. I can hear
water nearby and walk into the tree line by a few feet, until I find a tiny shallow bubbling brook heading downhill. I take my fill
quickly, still cursing the fact I broke my water bottle a week back and have no way to carry any, and head back to my bags,
pulling out my smoked meat and slump on the floor while chewing on it to take in my surroundings.
The sun is really high, so it must be around noon now, the heat of the day at its strongest. There are birds circling in the sky
above, adding a pleasant peaceful calm to the not so quiet of the day. Rustling wind, so gentle it's barely there, as it sends the
leaves swaying on the branches around and above me. Small forest animals chatter busily, sing and chirp in the distance around
me, while the nearest remain silent as they watch me and try to second guess if I'm a threat. I can almost hear and feel the
wildlife paused in their tracks, eyeing me up, little hearts beating fast to see who this stranger is among them.
That's the one good thing to come from all of this. My senses, my instincts, my wolf side, she's growing and developing fast and I
couldn't ever have come this far so naturally if I was still back in the Santo pack house. I know I'm changing, becoming self-
dependent, so sure of myself as the days roll by. Less convinced I'm a failure and afraid of my own shadow now. I feel like this
experience, it's doing something for me that no time in the valley could have. It's taking my wolf and bonding us as one, instead
of just being another part of me that occasionally shows up. I guess I'm finally seeing and feeling what it is Colton mastered in his
own abilities and embracing my other side. No longer two halves battling for one space, but instead merging together to fluidly
flow from one to the other in the blink of an eye.
Maybe I had to lose Colton to find myself. To learn what I was capable of and harnessing it alone. Maybe that was always the
fates plan. Teaching me a lesson and setting me on a path. Maybe, right now, he has his own new direction, his own new
strengths that came from our brief crossing of paths. Maybe he was always meant to lose me to find himself too. Like somehow
this is some small detail in a bigger plan, and our hearts may have been broken but in the bigger scheme of things, it was

necessary for something else. Maybe Carmen was always his destiny, and they gave him the strength to betray our bond for that
reason.
Who knows? I don't think I ever will. I don't think I will ever find the ability to forgive him for it either, even if it was all in the fate's
crazy masterplan.
Maybe I'm trying to find a reason to justify all of this because I was always taught that the fates are never wrong. They always
have a purpose for everything they do, even if we can't see it. Even leaving lonely little girls as unseen shadows in homes for
unwanteds, and then showing her a light of hope before crushing it in her face and throwing it far away.
I don't dwell for long. I know if I do, the bitterness, the sadness, and anger, it starts to consume me and destroy my mood. I have
to move and find somewhere to settle tonight, before the dark moves in, and I want some hours of daylight to properly set up my
bed, find leaves and dried grass to pad it first. It's become a ritual daily to help keep me sane. One thing I'm finding is
instrumental to my mental wellbeing, is taking the time to make my camp comfortable and a little homely and have some down
time before dusk. I sleep better, which helps my overall emotional state.
I get up and gaze around, slightly disorientated from walking in circles and going off to find water, and deicide to check my
directional progress before I keep moving. I've covered some distance and want to keep that huge dark mountain in the far
distance as my central point to aim for. If I have a plan that I don't sway from it helps me stay focused.
I look up at the trees, walking clockwise in my clearing to find the tallest and thickest of them to climb. It's better to have one with
a substantial trunk right up to the top so I can get above the canopy and peruse my land. It's not hard to climb when you have
claws and super strength to aid you, and a complete lack of aversion to heights, that I didn't know I possessed.
I pick one and waste no time kicking off my shoes to turn hands and feet into sharp climbing accessories and scale all the way to
the top in the blink of an eye. Lycanthrope have many skills that natural wolves don't, and this is one of them.
I push my head up through the leaves, breaking through easily, and even with this beast swaying as I scale to its terrifying
height, I cling on and look out over what I can now see. The trees up here form an almost solid carpet surface that looks like you
should be able to step out and walk across. All swaying in waves and dips on the wind up here, like a mass moving green
surface on water, with more texture.
It's definitely not as gentle when you're this high and it's almost mesmerizing to watch. The lay of many shades of greens,
moving to browns, and some yellows, the peeks of the odd rock formation or small hill and the sporadic clearing. It's a sight that's
not comparable to anything else and I revel in its beauty for a moment, the sun fully warming my head and face.

The mountains in the distance are so faint they almost look light grey, and as I turn to see where I came from it's weird to note
my own mountain is now also of a similar color and distance away, but also surrounded by a fog that makes it almost invisible
across the large expanse. I get that same aching quench of gut twist when I look at it and shake my head, bringing my focus
back to my new destination in a bid to combat those feelings. No time to dwell on where I've been, when I should only focus on
where I'm going. Gazing back at my new mountain thoughtfully, something catches the corner of my eye and makes me turn
instinctively.
The sun dazzles a little speck, a tiny flicker of white spark which seems to bounce at me across to the right, but when I turn to
look properly, I can't see where it came from. The trees sway, covering any chance of seeing it at first. I wait with held breath for
the sway back again, wondering if I imagined it, but there it is, a little flicker of reaction in a pop of clearing, almost like a light,
shining Morse code sparkles at me, and then it's gone as the trees sway back again. The organic flow of their movement closing
and opening the gap where it peeks out.
I focus on it, waiting for the movement of wind to show me it again and this time I hone my eyesight on what it might be. Holding
myself as steady as I can on my own moving perch. I catch the tip of what looks like some sort of pole or mast, and when the
wind kicks a bit harder, the leaves part wider for a second and I catch the top of something flat and dark grey, just below
whatever is catching the light, and then it's covered again. No matter how long I perch here watching it's the most I can see, and
I start to wonder what it is.
It's manmade for sure, but I don't know if it's a mast, a building, or some sort of rural construction used by power companies, or
maybe something else. Curiosity is peaked for sure, as it's not far from the path I plan on taking and now I want to know if I'm
straying into human territory, in a place that seemed idyllic and people free.
I sigh in exasperation, looking towards the mountain then back to my little flashing light, head forming so many questions and
doubts and try to see something I just can't. It might be a supply post, seeing as we are well off the beaten track and people do
that. I've heard of it, seen it on Tv, and saw them in the books in the school library. Rural buildings sat lone and open, filled with
survival kits for lost hikers, injured campers, especially in winter. I mean this place is nestled in a real dense part of the forest,
absolutely miles into the center of a massive overgrown part of the area. It could be a supply hut, with dried foods, supplies,
maybe even shoes and water bottles.
I look down at the ground far below me as though thinking about the possibility of what I might salvage there, something in my
gut urging me to go investigate. It wouldn't be a bad thing to pick up items I could use if that is what it is. I can't imagine it would
be anything other than a hut, or a mast.

It couldn't hurt, I mean, I'm not exactly on a schedule and if I get close and it's not occupied, or not a supply hut, and just a mast
or something pointless, it'll remove any suspicion of people running into me. It might be nothing more than an unmanned power
plant building, and I might gain nothing more than a few hours wasted on a detour. If it's manned, then I get the hell away from it,
change path and head for the mountain at a faster pace and hope they never venture the way I'm going. It might still be a source
to swipe some essentials though.
My gut says go, and without stopping to debate it any longer, something inside of me egging me on, I slide down the tree to go
recover my things and see what is out there in my new discovery.