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    drown
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
This story has elements of violence, sex, and strong language. 18+

Oregon in the Fall - 5. Chapter Five: Miles

“There is so much to unpack here, guys,” Clara said.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” I responded. I had broken the one rule. Do. Not. Reveal. Didn’t even take me 24 hours to do so.

he’s ours-ours. mine. yours. mine.

And now my wolf was talking to me. Neat. Ours?

Dave’s ok, right? He’s good?

yes. yes. sun.

Clara knows things. She seems good, is she good? Why does she figure things out?

good. yes. yes. mint. rose.

Dave was standing in front of me. He touched my nose. I looked at him, baffled. “Do you like my nose?”

“The light. I was just trying to see if it would shine again,” Dave said.

“Was I shining out of my nose?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Then why are you touching it?”

A clap. Clara.

“Can we focus on the big picture here, guys?” she said.

I was ok with having less focus on parts of my face. We both turned our heads towards Clara.

“Is it common knowledge that wolves and magic exist?” I asked her.

“I guess not. I hope not?” Clara said, smiling.

“Could you please freak out a little more about… what I did yesterday?” Dave said.

“Oh, come on, honey. You seem to be freaked out enough for the both of us. And Grey, I think we need to talk.”

And this was the moment when I knew Mark was here. Mark.

friend. love.

Yeah.

horny.

Shut up.

“You both need to stay outside. There is someone here,” I said to Dave and Clara, alarmed.

I didn’t have many things on me when I arrived here yesterday. But I surely seemed to drag a lot of baggage with me. Fuck. I got up and moved towards the door, swiftly, and as I noticed both of them about to follow me, I held up my hand. “Please, let me deal with this,” I said. I wasn’t sure they’d listen.

I opened the door leading to the main area of the bar. There he was.

“Mark,” I said.

out.

No.

wolf.

No!

w-o-l-f!

“Grey,” Mark said. He wasn’t… menacing. But I was about to be.

“Did you come alone?” I wanted to know. I started shifting, but slowly. My fingernails grew longer, the subtle cracking of my bones eerily filling the air. Facial hair. Black. My shoulders grew wider, stronger. Muscles. More muscles.

human wolf. wolf.

We can’t help it.

can’t. won’t. can’t.

We’re quite awesome together, aren’t we?

very. very.

“Yes,” Mark said.

“How did you find me?” I said. My voice was usually deep, now it was deeper. I noticed how Clara and Dave were at my sides, just a little further back. I looked at Clara, and she was beaming at me with delight. I looked to the other side at Dave. Oh, Dave. He had a smirk on his face. Vanilla. The wolf didn’t bother him, I guess. “You can touch the nose later,” I said to him.

“I will always find you,” Mark said, “but what is this?”

“What do you mean?” I said.

“You ran from us, to find a bar with humans?”

“I ran to get away. We’re not friends anymore, Mark.”

“We were more than friends,” he said with pain in his voice.

“And you threw it away!” I shouted, my voice low and growling. It made the windows shake. I couldn’t keep myself from shifting further. My shirt ripped. That’s when Mark lunged at me. Mark—river—my Mark.

betrayal. love.

I know, buddy.

He didn’t have a chance. I raised my arm, aiming my hand to slice at his throat. Mark jumped, and shifted quickly while in the air. He was full wolf now.

restraint.

He leapt towards me. I caught him midair and threw him towards the door behind us. Dave had to duck, but he did so gracefully. Mark slammed into the wall, letting out a yelp. He was back up on his paws swiftly, angrily leering at me, baring teeth.

“Mark, stop this,” I said.

“S-T-O-P-T-H-I-S,” Dave said, but his voice had changed. It was… as if he were talking more than once, with an echo. Reverberating. Deep down low, and high up there. Frequencies, all the frequencies. It startled me so much, I got distracted and had to look at him. When I looked at Dave, his eyes were pulsing, but not with golden light. No. His eyes were black. Void. Beautiful. Oh god, so beautiful. His skin was moving. Lines of black and red were moving on his skin. They were all leading towards his center. Crawling. I could see stars in the lines, almost as if looking through gaps in his being.

When I looked over at Mark again, he was rooted in place. The black lines that I just saw on Dave were beginning where Mark’s paws were, dragging them downward into the floor. He tried to break free, but this was futile. Unyielding.

“We’ve had enough supernatural shit for one day,” Clara said, matter-of-factly, “and all you men need to calm the fuck down.” She stood with a resolute grace, raising her hands slowly, palms facing up. As she began to move her fingers, they traced intricate patterns in the air, as if weaving an invisible tapestry of energy. Each motion was deliberate and fluid, like a skilled conductor orchestrating a symphony. The surrounding air seemed to respond, as gusts of wind drew towards her. She let out a scream, and slammed her arms towards the floor, the wind following suit. Everything shook.

Within mere moments, I felt the change. I yelped in agony as my bones reverted to their previous configuration, fingernails withdrawing. As the torrent of air hit me, I crumbled to the floor. I was back to human, fully. But so was Mark, glued to the floor, seemingly knocked unconscious. I looked over at Dave—the sun—who was still standing. “Dave?” I said, pleading.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” he said.

“You’re damn right, it is,” Clara said.

Dave had a pained expression, his face pinched. No more void lines, eyes so blue. He was heaving heavily, but smiled at me. Clara let out a sigh, her eyes rolling up, and then collapsed onto the floor. I managed to reach over to soften her fall. I lay her down gently. She was out.

I turned towards Dave. He just shrugged at me.

hurt. where? wolf?

I guess we made her angry, buddy.

Mark was out cold, his body awkwardly contorted. His shirt and pants were ripped, his shoes were somewhere. He looked like a tornado hit him, which I guess was not too far from the truth. I looked down at myself, and didn’t fare much better. I still had my underpants on, a redeeming quality that kept this whole scene child-friendly… somewhat. Everything else hung off me in rags. My toenails had pierced through my shoes.

no love.

No, not anymore.

gone.

“This shifting business would be less costly if you had remembered to undress before, huh?” Dave said.

I chuckled.

Dave went over to Clara, just slightly limping from apparent exhaustion. “Hey,” he said and cupped the side of her face with his palm.

“Hey you,” Clara responded as she opened her eyes.

Dave chuckled too. Then the chuckle turned into a laugh. What happened next was unexpected. Dave came over to me, dragged me up from the floor—strong—and hugged me. And I hugged him back. I put my nose to his neck and inhaled, deeply. Air—sun—spring—flowers–earth. I grasped his shoulders with my hands and pushed him back slightly, just so I could look at him better. He was smiling. I brushed a leaf off his face, no idea where that came from. There were so many open questions right now, but they didn’t matter. I found you. It was him. I didn’t see it last night. I didn’t see it an hour ago. But I am seeing it now.

“Did I see you in my dreams?” Dave said.

Yeah. That was it.

“You asked me to come,” I said.

“Did I?” he said. I just nodded.

“I’m sorry I was followed. I…” I said and looked over at Mark, “I don’t know what to do with him now. Fuck.” Then I looked over at Clara and said, “Are you ok?”

Clara just nodded with a smile. “I will be,” she said, “but you’re almost naked.”

“Were these the last clothes you had?” Dave said.

“Yup,” I said, my expression blank.

“Dave doesn’t mind,” she said. And Dave blushed so hard, I didn’t even have to look at him to know. The scent said everything. I turned to face him again. So close, still gripping his shoulders.

“Um,” Dave said. He stumbled backwards.

“What?” I said.

“A wolf man is holding me.”

“Wolf man? What the fuck is a wolf man?”

“You are,” he said, touched my nose, and looked over my shoulder behind me, “and your boyfriend is waking up.”

Mark let out a groan, and I let go of Dave. I was angry. Why did Mark have to follow me? How did he do it? A wolf can move fast if he wants to. I wanted to. Within a mere second, I was right on top of Mark. Rage. I took his head and slammed it into the floor. He was out again. Exhilarating. I let out an evil laugh. I wanted to pick his head up and do it again. And again.

YOU ARE NOT THOSE PEOPLE!

Shit.

Just as I was making new friends, or whatever this mess was right now, I revealed my true nature. A violent beast. I couldn’t even look at Dave or Clara right now.

What would they see?

That’s why what followed was so unexpected. I felt hands on my shoulders. Clara on my left, she had gentle skin. Dave on my right, firmly gripping. Both of them told me it was ok. Except they didn’t say anything. Maybe they just wanted me to not make a mistake right now, but it worked. Home. They made me feel like home.

Then I broke down. I fell to my knees and started crying. I let go. My mom, my dad, my brother. Mark. My pack. Tears were streaming down my face. They all had betrayed me, and still, I was here trying to fix things. It was my duty. Why did he have to follow me?

“Can we talk now?” Clara said.

The tears hadn’t stopped, but I slowly nodded my head. I turned towards Dave and said, “We need to secure him. And he’s not my boyfriend, by the way.”

“How do you secure a wolf man?” Dave said.

“We need to work on that terminology of yours. Do you have chains? Silver chains maybe?” I asked him.

“No?” Dave responded.

I looked towards Clara. She said, “What kind of establishment do you think I’m running here? Of course, I have chains.”

So she got the chains. I dragged Mark out to the porch behind the bar, and we tied him up. I made sure they were secure, so even a shift wouldn’t rattle them lose. Plus, Clara really did have silver chains, so they would hurt if he tried shifting. The woman was full of surprises. Everything today was a surprise, to be honest.

When the Mark situation was dealt with for the moment, Clara, Dave, and I went back inside. Dave brought me some clothes. They fit.

Dave didn’t even ask if anyone wanted a drink. He got us a bottle of whiskey, and we sat down at a table in the corner.

No one said anything at first. Their faces were odd, though. Clara was smiling, she was doing that a lot. Dave just had a blank stare on him, lost in thought.

“So, I guess we’re lucky the bar is closed tonight, huh?” Clara said.

I looked down at the floor, ashamed. “I’m so sorry I came here. All I do is leave pain and misery in my wake.”

“Oh, sweetie. It’s ok. I’m very much used to cleaning up the mess that the men in my life leave behind,” she said.

In her life? I looked back up at her and said, “Am I in your life now?”

“After what happened since you arrived, how could you not? But I have questions, plural. More than one.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What did you mean when you said you think you know my mother?” Dave interjected, gulping down his glass of whiskey in one fell swoop.

“Our pack shaman… she… on my 15th birthday, she told me… things. About the curse. But I wasn’t cursed. But she smelled like you. Just cursed. And then she left.” I said. That was not a good summary.

They looked confused.

“Yeah, we need more than that. Can you start from the beginning?” Clara said.

So I did. I explained what a pack was. I explained that wolves lived a pack life, and we kept to ourselves. I told them about the Strawberry Mountains, about my mom, about my dad, about my brother Sebastian. I didn’t tell them about Mark. When I nonchalantly mentioned the abuse I endured by my father, they both looked sad for me. I told them about how I felt wrong in the pack, but how I loved nature, and how I held my duty to the pack in high regard. I said my name was Grey Belcore, and I was the future Alpha of my pack. They didn’t know what an Alpha was. I figured Clara might have known, but she didn’t say.

“Pack shamans like living with wolves. They are very close to nature, and we are too. They commune with the earth, and we howl to the moon. Usually, there’s a family of shamans in a pack of wolves, but our shaman was alone. She was solitary. I always felt like she was the source of what was wrong in my pack. But on my 15th birthday, everything changed, and I knew I had been wrong,” I said.

“How so?” Dave said.

“When I got up that morning, she talked to me. She said she saved me from the curse right when I was born. She said I was somehow different, that I could maybe change things. So I think the curse didn’t come from her, but she tried to save us, and couldn’t. When I heard all that, at that moment I didn’t understand. But I couldn’t ask questions either because she… she left in a beam of light. Her name was Beatrice.”

I looked at Dave and tilted my head up. I sniffed—air—sun—spring—so familiar, and said, “You smell like her. It was just tainted by the curse, I think. But if you remove that, it’s you. And your light. I have seen it twice in my life now. Back when Beatrice left our pack on my 15th birthday. And today, on you. I found you.”

“What… else did she say?” Clara said.

“She… mentioned a name. Theodore.” I said.

Dave was lost in thought.

“So you both aren’t siblings?” I asked.

“Why do you say that?” Dave said.

“Your skin… and…” I said, probably maneuvering myself into a corner.

“Don’t be racist.”

“I… I’m sorry. It’s just if Beatrice really is Dave’s mom, I’m wondering if… how he got here,” I said.

“It’s ok. I’m his sister, just not by blood. My dad was never in the picture, and our mom raised us both. We found Dave in a basket at our doorstep, and I exclaimed that he was my brother right away. What could my mom do but obey?” Clara said, to my great relief.

“I just… I’m sorry. The world is shit enough, you don’t need racist remarks from me.”

“Thank you for saying that,” Clara said, and smiled, “but our trio can deal with any bigot, I’d assume. We seem to be quite a good team.”

“They stand no chance,” Dave said.

“Do you have any idea where Beatrice is right now?” Clara asked.

“No. But if I am to save my pack, I need to find her,” I said.

That’s when I turned around with a growl. Mark was in the room.

“I think I can help you find her,” he said.

Well, fuck.

Copyright © 2023–2024 drown. All Rights Reserved.
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Thank you so much for reading. This is my first story. Be kind but honest.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Another in-depth review of the goings-on from @Zuri ... oh my, thank you :D

7 hours ago, Zuri said:
Quote

I brushed a leaf off his face, no idea where that came from.

The leaf or the sudden touching?

Yes.

I'm putting you in Grey's head. And I'm trying my best to have you go through all the emotions, even the subconscious ones.

7 hours ago, Zuri said:

Now, two things, I didn't like that much (a little nit-picky though):

Ok, let's go :D I welcome criticism, thank you.

7 hours ago, Zuri said:

This is a little much info dumping for me.

Right now, I'm very dialog-heavy as it is. As we learned some of Grey's backstory in 3/Strawberry, I broke up the dialog linearity with a retelling. I personally thought it worked well here, but I will keep your comment in mind.

7 hours ago, Zuri said:

I just imagine this read out loud and … it just doesn't work for me.

I'm sorry, but that's what I came up with. I personally quite like the wolf dialog in Grey's head. His wolf is part of him, and he confers with him to get his bearings. The wolf also kept him from slicing Mark in half. restraint.

7 hours ago, Zuri said:

So, I suppose, this wasn't a voice in Grey's head but a comment from the author to the author 😜

I refuse to acknowledge this.

There's a lot of me in Grey. It's my first story, how could I not turn it autobiographical. 😬

7 hours ago, Zuri said:

whatever Clara is?

There's more chapters for you to figure that out 😀

7 hours ago, Zuri said:

Uh, Matrix—this really is

On 1/9/2024 at 5:10 PM, drown said:

supernatural mayhem. 

😜

Supernatural mayhem is the best there is. If people want further hints, they can look up the difference between Trinity and Triad. I just needed a good word for "3", with a little foreboding sprinkled in.

My mind is racing.

Thanks again for taking the time to reach out. 🙂

Chapter Nine is coming this week, with Ten hopefully also following on the weekend.

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Quote

Your skin… and…” I said, probably maneuvering myself into a corner. 

“Don’t be racist.” 

Ok. I’m really loving your characters. But Here’s a case where you haven’t given enough information. Or I’ve missed it despite re- reading/skimming every chapter after being caught off guard here. In terms of physical descriptions so far I’ve learned Grey and Sebastian have black hair and hazel eyes. Clara has black wavy hair.  Dave has blue eyes. I don’t know anyone’s heights or builds or backgrounds. Other than implying Grey is muscular.  Beatrice was thin enough to look like a walking stick. Grey also made a passing reference in his mental dialogue last chapter that Dave and Clara’s skin tones are different.  But My family has plenty of people who are somewhat lighter or darker without race playing a role.  Please don’t get me wrong.  One of the fastest ways to bring a story to a screeching halt is by pausing for ridiculously intricate physical descriptions, but learning a little at a time would help.  Keep up the good work. 

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2 hours ago, Rkench said:
Quote

Your skin… and…” I said, probably maneuvering myself into a corner. 

“Don’t be racist.” 

Ok. I’m really loving your characters. But Here’s a case where you haven’t given enough information. Or I’ve missed it despite re- reading/skimming every chapter after being caught off guard here. In terms of physical descriptions so far I’ve learned Grey and Sebastian have black hair and hazel eyes. Clara has black wavy hair.  Dave has blue eyes. I don’t know anyone’s heights or builds or backgrounds. Other than implying Grey is muscular.  Beatrice was thin enough to look like a walking stick. Grey also made a passing reference in his mental dialogue last chapter that Dave and Clara’s skin tones are different.  But My family has plenty of people who are somewhat lighter or darker without race playing a role.  Please don’t get me wrong.  One of the fastest ways to bring a story to a screeching halt is by pausing for ridiculously intricate physical descriptions, but learning a little at a time would help.  Keep up the good work. 

Hm. I'm taking your comments seriously, and they help me so much. So I'd like to give some details on my thought process here.

I'm not against labels or descriptions, but when it comes to people, I found it tacky for our POV character Grey to just go "LOOK! A BLACK WOMAN!" or "WOW, I'M SO LATINO!" Having said that, I know you're just referring to the balance between outright standing-in-front-of-mirror descriptions and saying nothing at all. And I realize I lost you there, so I apologize. When Grey stood in front of Clara's, he read the plaques hanging there, one saying "CLARA MILES. Oregon Women of Color Hospitality Award 2022." It is easy to miss, but I find instances of this much better than just describing people out of the blue. I know I'm rather sparse on physical descriptions, and I decided to give them layer by layer when they make sense. There's more coming in the coming chapters, and it will never stop, but for me they need to feel right in the moment. I have thought so much about correct representation, without running the risk of appropriation, but representation is very important to me.

Having said all this, I do know what you mean, and I'm sorry it didn't work as well as I wanted it to (yet?)

Your comments are so very much appreciated. And I take all feedback into account in becoming a better writer. Thank you. 💛

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1 minute ago, drown said:

he read the plaques hanging there, one saying "CLARA MILES. Oregon Women of Color Hospitality Award 2022." It is easy to miss

Thanks for a very well thought out and reasoned response. I didn’t actually miss that descriptive detail. What’s to say Dave isn’t also Hispanic or Native American or Arabic or Pacific Islander or black or any number of other descriptive labels for persons of color?   I’m all caught up and you have revealed more over the later chapters. And that’s good. There’s still a lot of room for you to paint in the canvas as you see fit. I don’t assume the default is Caucasian. Unless an author tells me it is. All my best! 

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4 minutes ago, Rkench said:
14 minutes ago, drown said:

he read the plaques hanging there, one saying "CLARA MILES. Oregon Women of Color Hospitality Award 2022." It is easy to miss

Thanks for a very well thought out and reasoned response. I didn’t actually miss that descriptive detail. What’s to say Dave isn’t also Hispanic or Native American or Arabic or Pacific Islander or black or any number of other descriptive labels for persons of color?   I’m all caught up and you have revealed more over the later chapters. And that’s good. There’s still a lot of room for you to paint in the canvas as you see fit. I don’t assume the default is Caucasian. Unless an author tells me it is. All my best! 

Thank you, that is very good to hear. And yes, there is much more to fill in, and it becomes way more descriptive in—tentatively—Chapter Eleven, because... reasons. I do have all those descriptive details written down, of course, I don't want to accidentally change someone's history or just flipping eye colors all the time.

 

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