When I first caught a whiff of another werefox, my first impression was fear, once more thinking that my home pack had found me at last. I had a brief moment of wondering what the repercussions would be for running off like I did. Would they blame me for not stealing for them? Would they put deaths and starvation on my head because they didn't have their lead thief? I doubt I'd be welcomed with open arms. No one even noticed me in the pack, no one but my father and I was just his punching bag.

The moment was fleeting though because upon further inspection, I could tell that it was not a fox I knew but a stranger, probably new to town. My curosity kicked up a couple notches and so I decided to check it out. Curiosity has always been a weakness of mine, sometimes the only thing able to override my fear of new situations. I may not be brimming with confidence like a lot of my colleagues but I'd like to think I've grown as a person from the people I've come into contact with upon my arrival in Sacrosanct.

And so now I find myself shifting so that I can run freely through the woods toward the smell since it's more than just a werefox, it's a wounded werefox. I can smell her blood and it troubles the healer in me, my brows furrowing together as my tail tucks and my ears flatten to my slender skull. I pick up the pace, hoping I make it in time but the scene I come across is anything but ideal for mending wounds. I stop right on the outskirts, two scents I've come across before running through my nostrils. The first is well known and one I will always think of with affection. Raven, the first friend I made in Sacrosanct and the closest thing I have to pack now. She gave me a place to call home and taught me how to defend myself. She taught me the roots of confidence and I learn from her every time I see her.

The second is less known but still familiar. I remember the blonde violet eyed man from the masquerade party, the one who gave off a dominant aura like a billboard sign over his head. He's an alpha if I've ever seen one and he had his sights set on me at the bar until Raven came to my rescue. They didn't hit it off at all if actions speak any volumes. I recall vividly how she slapped him across the face for talking about her rear end and then he promptly followed her and grabbed her by the throat, thrusting her against the wall and calling her a puppy. It gives me goose bumps even now how much he reminds me of my father. I tremble at the recollection but try to push the thoughts to the back of my mind, setting my sights on the unknown werefox standing between a white gold stallion's legs.

I have always thought horses were magnificent creatures and he is a prime candidate if I ever saw one but only this man can make a majestic animal look a little more morbid than it should. Those violet eyes flash with a "come near if you dare" attitude and he seems to be threatening Raven with his stance. With hsi weight and sharp hooves, he could probably do some damage but I think it'd be a close fight since Raven can get as big as a bear if she wants to and she's got the feral mind to back it up wiht a merciless twist. Even now as I get a better look at her, I can see the hungry flash in her eyes as she looks at the werefox and my heart quickens. I know that look since she looked at me the same way once while we were engaged in a seemingly innocent game of tag. One minute it was just a game of chase and the next I was running for my life. It's her curse but I don't feel any differently towards her for it. I know she can't control it.

Even as the wolf and stallion seems to square off, the werefox takes matters into her own paws though and I watch with blue gold eyes as she streaks out from under the stallion, not even looking back. I pause only a moment to consider my good friend's standing before I make a decision and take off after the fox. I follow her scent to a small den, just big enough for those of our stature to fit inside. I stop right outside the entrance, sniffing the ground to make sure I got it right but my ears flicker upwards as I hear rustling within the den. My voice is soft and soothing as I stand outside, ears constantly flicking in case the stallion decides to make chase.

"I can help your wounds. Please, I know how to heal."

My expression softens, this power being the biggest gift I could ever want for myself since I've always just wanted to help others in any way possible. I shift my weight from side to side, hoping she decides to trust me. It's not every day that I come across another werefox after all.

alexis wilde