Very short. Our kitsune misses her friends and I miss Teen Wolf.
The harsh winds whipped across the desert, brushing the coarse sand across the young kitsune's legs. It was an irritating tickle that she was familiar with by now. From her spot atop the cliff, Kira took in the view as she did each evening while the sunset. She had come to love the oranges and yellows that graced the sky out on the open horizon. If she was lucky, pinks and purples would mix in to give her something to awe at. If she had a camera, she would have an impressive collection by now.
While the skinwalkers did not keep track of time as most people did, Kira counted the days. If she had been counting right, it was sometime in early October. Her friends would be well into their senior year and Scott would be preparing for or already celebrating his birthday. She imagined a big gathering for the alpha's eighteen birthday. Her phone had died weeks ago after she was constantly turning it on and off, checking for messages and debating with herself whether or not to call or text someone.
While she tried not to do it often to spare herself the pain and desperation of being back with Scott and their friends, she allowed her mind to conjure up his image. His sweet, crooked smile was one of her favorite things. When she wasn't sure of herself, he would give her words of encouragement and smile that smile at her. He was the first to acknowledge her.
"Happy birthday, Scott," she whispered into the wind.
She thought of Lydia taking the reigns and planning the event. While Scott complained, Lydia would put her heeled foot down and he would cave. Stiles would laugh about it before explaining what could go wrong while helping to set up. Malia would be more than happy with all the food and being around her friends.
What if a rival pack picked tonight to attack? What if Liam loss it in the crowd and mauled someone?
Kira shook her head, stopping the negative thoughts in their tracks. It was hard not to let worry for her friends overcome her, especially after all they had been through. The distance and the thought of never seeing them again ate at her some nights. While she had the change to live hundreds of years, her friends did not. She wanted to push herself as hard as she could so she could get back to them. The young kitsune was determined to spend all the years she could with those who had welcomed her to Beacon Hills.
With a renewed sense of motivation, she stood and picked up her katana. With one last look at the fading daylight, she turned and headed towards the sandy training grounds that surrounded her.