I walk around
like everything is fine,
But deep down,
Inside my shoe,
My sock is sliding down.
Meme.
Stevensville came into view as they chugged over the last rise in the highway. Although Sunny been prepared for what Samuel had described as a “charming village,” she couldn’t tamp down her shock at being able to see the whole town at once.
There was a long main drag of shops with a few streets sprouting off to support a few dozen haphazardly arranged one-story houses. Samuel had told her that most Stevensville residents, now including her, lived in isolated homes in the three hundred or so square miles that surrounded the town limits. And a good chunk of the citizens knew about werewolves.
Main Street looked like something out of the Old West. Big brick buildings that stood the test of time against great Northern winters huddled against the wind. The windows advertised sensible ventures such as a bank, a grocery store, or an outdoor outfitter with a little flourish.
The buildings were buttressed against one another, which she suspected was an effort to save on building materials so as to heat the buildings efficiently.
The Cabinets mountains loomed at the edge of town as if they’d suddenly sprung up at the end of Main Street. Their beauty, the protective curve of the peaks, made her feel small and silly for worrying about things like the car’s gas mileage and making sure her dancing skills didn’t suffer from this little vacation.
“Wow.” She breathed, eyes wide as she took in the splendor of the north. Everything was bright and clean, all muted greens and blues.
She adored it.
If she wasn’t paying so much attention to the sky as she leaned as far forward as her seat belt allowed she would have noticed Altan’s small, sweet smile at her.
Would have seen his heart melt through his umber eyes.
Would have seen his wolf call for her.
No, all Sunny saw was the magnificent forest she was to call home.
“What’s the forest like?” She asked, turning her wide innocent eyes to Altan. He smiled once more, not at her, but at the memory of the wind blowing through his fur as he hunted with the pack.
“It is hard to put into words. In the forest, the sky vanishes almost completely, only a few fragments of blue remain- like scattered pieces of an impossible jigsaw puzzle. The air is rich with the fragrance of leaves and loam, damp too. Even so many hours after the rains have passed, the soil remains wet, slowly releasing its heady fog. The only movements are the occasional bird, startling in a tree, or a squirrel dashing up a nearby trunk. The sound of running water in the brook has the same hypnotic quality as music. These hikes in the forest are like a trip out of my life, a visit to somewhere the measuring of time is done only by the rising and setting of the sun."
The Spanish in his voice rumbled with pleasure, Sunny closed her eyes and could picture it. Feel the wind through her fur, feel the bark of a tree under her claws.
“You make it sound so magical.” She whispered, sitting up now.
“It is. Don’t worry, once you are settled I’ll take you out there and you can see for yourself.” Sunny beamed and wiggled happily in her seat.
“Moony! We finally get to climb trees!” She made a happy sound and wiggled again.
“Sun! I’m so excited! How far do you think we could climb? They got to be at least thirty feet.” He asked, just as in awe as her.
“You’ve never climbed a tree?” Samuel asked.
“Nope. There are no climbing trees in Arizona and Central Park has a rule about it punishable by death. Our dance teacher took us around the world with him, we saw trees but God help you if you ever thought about climbing one.” Moony informed, snapping a photo of the nearest pine tree and sending it to their uncle.
“Okay, now you guys are definitely staying a while. I cannot let you be so neglected anymore.” Samuel declared, grinning at them. It was sweet to see the twins so excited over something so trivial.
“Pish, there’s lots of climbing things on the reservation, we go cliff jumping and stuff,” Sunny said as if that would ease the sympathy.
“Cliff jumping?”
“Yeah, about twenty minutes from the house there’s a lake, no one knows where it came from, but it’s nestled by these super tall cliffs and if you’re daring, or stupid enough, you can jump into the water below.” Moony said.
“We do it every summer, with the other boys from the block.” Sunny chirped.
“Only the boys?” Samuel asked he’d never went cliff jumping before. Werewolves, like chimps, have too much muscle and not enough fat to float. Not conducive to swimming.
“Yeah, I’m the only girl in a thirty-mile radius, I’d would let another girl in a heartbeat if it meant the wolf whistles would stop.” Sunny laughed at the memories of her and her friends running to the cliffside throwing off clothes to show their swimsuits and be the first one to jump.
“I told you, Sun, I’d make them stop if you asked,” Moony assured cheekily.
“You’re not going to eat our friends, Jacy Redfeather.” She chastised, the effect wasn’t full as she was grinning at him.
“Damn, you ruin all the fun.” Moony whined, pouting in his seat. Sunny would be worried if he wasn’t trying to stifle a smile.
“Children please, keep your homicidal thoughts to yourself, it makes me hungry.” Altan admonished, flicking his right blinker on so he could turn.
“Ya’ll don’t hunt people up here? Like that one movie.” Sunny questioned.
“Deliverance? Wasn’t that filmed in the south?” Samuel replied.
“Pish, a hillbilly is a hillbilly no matter what direction he lives in.” Sunny waved him off with a flippant move of her hand.
“No, people hunting is punishable by death on the Marroc’s land.” Altan said, eyes flicking to her briefly.
“Wow, only here? That seems a little lopsided.” Moony blurted.
“All of North America and Canada is the Marroc’s territory.” Samuel corrected.
“Damn, how does one guy keep up with everyone? He must be worn ragged all the time.” Sunny said. Samuel laughed.
“He’s had a lot of experience. Don’t let his mate, Emily, hear you say that.”
“Why?”
“She’s been pestering him to back off for a while, not forever, but for a year or two, she wants my half brother Charles to take over for a spell,” Samuel explained, waving at a passerby. Sunny fiddled with a button on her skirt. It was coming loose, only one lone string held it on. She sighed and released it. This was one of her nicer skirts.
“And dear children we are here,” Altan announced, his tone did not fit his words, Sunny smirked, someone wasn’t happy.
Rhys Edevane's house was different then Sunny expected. Somehow, since it was in the backwoods of Montana, she'd thought he'd live in one of those big log houses, or something old, like the buildings she saw back in town.
But the house where Altan stopped the car was not huge or made of logs. Instead, it looked like a simple ranch-style house, painted a rather pleasing combination of gray and green. It was tucked up against the side of a hill and looked out over a series of fenced pastures occupied by a few horses. The car pulled to a gentle stop next to a gorgeous muscle car. Sunny rolled her eyes, rich people.
Altan was the first out, casually strolling around the vehicle to open Sunny’s door.
“You didn’t have to do that Altan.” She smiled at him and untangled her long frame out of its cramped position.
“It is my pleasure, Sunny.” He purred, pink lips pull into a handsome smirk. A small sound was heard. Sunny turned her gaze to face the person who made a small laugh. On the porch were five people: a black man, a native man, two brunettes; one with toffee-colored skin, and a blonde geek. Sunny waved politely at them and got a reply from a woman with scars on her face.
“Y’all have horses!” Moony exclaimed, slapping Sunny on the arm in his excitement. Sunny spun quickly in surprise and saw two large horses grazing in a green pasture. One was white and the other was black quite an odd pair.
“Yes, Da owns a few, and Charles and Andi have a couple at their house. Do you two like to ride?”
“Yeah, we volunteer at the rangers office, our uncle works there when he’s not on duty, and do tours of the Oljato-Monument Valley in Navajo territory which is right next to our hometown of Teec Nos Pos, Arizona. We take the horses out to show white folks around.” Moony said, strolling over to the fence to get a closer look at the pretty white mare.
“I have an Appaloosa named Wendigo. He’s white with chestnut spots. Or chestnut with white spots, no one knows for sure.” Sunny disclosed. She loved her horse to death, they were best friends. But he was ugly as sin.
“You named your horse after a man-eating spirit?” The Native American man asked, a black brow raised in question. Sunny liked him immediately, he was scary at first glance but he hid a heart of gold that probably didn’t get out often.
Part of Sunny’s gift to see the departed was that she could also feel the emotions of the living. She was very good at it.
“That damn horse is evil. I can not count the number of times it bit me. I swear it likes the taste of human flesh better than oats. It’s a right proper name for the beast.” Moony grumbled, still gently stroking the mare’s soft nose. Sunny scoffed and waved him off.
“Wennie is an excellent judge of character, it’s not his fault you’re a jerk.”
“What about all those times he bucked you off, or that one time he pushed you off the cliff, huh?” Moony chastised, crossing his arms in disappointment then hurriedly moving them so the mare wouldn’t eat his braids.
“We had a disagreement that’s all, he apologized.” Sunny whined, pouting at him. Moony was right Wendigo was a perfect name for her horse.
“How does a horse apologize?” The curly-headed one asked she must be Andi. Sunny beamed at her and tugged down her shirt to fit more securely in her fraying skirt. Today it read: ’I’M MORE OF A CAT PERSON REALLY’ Sunny believed you should be open with your opinions. Moony told her to take it off.
“Killed a rattler for me.” Sunny chirped, walking up to the horses with a slight skip in her step.
“Probably was the one who brought it in alive in the first place,” Moony grumbled under his breath.
“You might be right, Moons, but doesn’t change the fact Wennie saved me. You’re just jealous because your pony is dumber than a sack of old potatoes.”
“Killa is pretty and that’s all that matters.”
“Can’t believe you named your dumb horse after yourself self, Moon.”
“It’s a great name.” Moony defended himself.
“Are they always like this?” The black man asked and without turning to face him both of the twins said.
“Yes.”
There was a loud groan and then the Marroc invited them inside.
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