A/N: Mk. Soooo this is spawned off of the Children of the Moon idea. I'm a fan of the warm and fuzzies so this is just the pilot for a concept I might run with. There's not much too this chapter except an introduction to the main character/'real' werewolf. Not much was given about the 'real' werewolves so I'm planning on doing my own thing based on what information that was given. Anyway, please give reviews if you'd like to see more.

Disclaimer: Pfft. Duh. No.

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For the first time in my lifetime I was lost. Not even the moon was showing her face to me this very night. Crisp air filled my lungs. In. Out. In. Out. Years of practice had made it easy to keep my breathing controlled even as I moved faster than the automobiles I could hear racing on the highway miles away from me. I winced at the sound of twisting metal, squealing breaks and human screams. It was distant but the pity in my gut was very near and dear. Humans…they would never learn that no matter how untouchable their fast cars made them feel they weren't immortal.

The real truth, the truth I knew better than most, was that no one was truly immortal. Ideas, stories…they could be immortal but an individual could run from death for only so long. Some managed to run longer than others. I'd been running for a horribly long time. I wasn't even sure why anymore. There didn't seem to be a point.

And now I was utterly alone. A lost child. Perhaps …an only child.

No..no I refused to believe that. Diana was out there. Lysander was alive. Halima was safe. They would find me. All I had to do was keep running and sooner or later they'd catch up and we'd be together again. We would not be safe but we would be together. Yes. Yes. Sooner or later. They were all safe. They were trying to find me, running fast, running hard so that then we could run as one.

I would not be alone. I would not be lost. Just as long as I kept running myself. Running because it was all we could do. The times of great empires and established cities were long gone. I had been born during this exile, not from a city, but from existence so I had no knowledge of what I was like to be free to live. Diana knew and she had spun such magnificent stories…my eyes watered now at the very thought of her voice. It was like the sound of rumbling earth, deep and throaty, but lulling to the point it had often managed to put me to sleep even when I thought it impossible.

Thinking about Diana, about sleep was making me feel ill. Deep in my core I trembled, longing for familiarity of any kind. There was none here in this wood somewhere in North America. I didn't know if I'd passed from Canada into the US yet but it didn't matter. After a few hundred years everything looked the same. I avoided cities like the plague and some countries entirely. Italy was a death sentence.

There were people nearby. A small town. I had passed a larger one earlier but this was less threatening. Something else was here. Something that unsettled my gut and caused me to nearly stumble. It was sickly sweet, leaving a taste worthy of gagging in the back of my mouth. My first instinct was to run as fast as I could away from this scent. I had wanted something familiar and received it but this was clearly a classic case of 'careful what you wish for.'

I knew what it was now. Them. The Hunters. They were the enemy. They had decided to forfeit our right to live. Instinctively, my lips peeled back over my teeth despite there being no one to see the threat. It was meaningless. I was horrified but my bare feet had become roots in the ground beneath me. A few moments passed before I realized that something other than fear was keeping me in place. Another scent. Something familiar as well.

Wolf. Different than my kind but still wolf and not the animal. Something burned in the back of my throat and with reluctance I realized it was longing. If I called to them would they answer? I have tilted my head back then stopped, lips half parted. Their scents were too heavily mingled with the others. My eyes burned with unshed tears and I knew I was still alone. Anger coursed through my veins with each 

thudding of my heavy heart. I didn't know these wolves or even what they truly were and yet I felt betrayed.

A long moment passed before I realized the low snarl was coming from me. Body tensed I fought the urge to hunt them, punish them whoever they were for siding with the Vampires. Of course, it would be suicide but I didn't care. The truly horrifying thing about going crazy was the time before finally losing it when you were completely aware you were losing your mind. For us, those left of us, it happened before the rising of the full moon that boiled our bloods and drove us mad with dangerous passions. I thought I had at least a week before the wearing on my sanity began but apparently not.

The splintering of wood brought to my attention the poor tree I was mauling. Splinters tried in vain to settle into my fingers but failed miserably. I was mildly annoyed with the prospect of having to pick the bark out from under my nails but there were worse things to accidentally maul. Keeping my hands in the tree, I rested my forehead against the bark, eyes closed and breathing in deeply to try and settle the sour feeling in my stomach. I needed to start running again. It didn't matter where to. Just…somewhere far from here...and then my stomach growled at me and I couldn't ignore the swelling hunger that continued to build.

Running would have to wait. Now, I would feed.