She walked through the thick foliage, just far back enough to be hidden from view, her small frame obscured by the buds of the lilac bushes that had just begun to flower. The sun beat down upon the ground of the meadow in front of her, sending waves of smoldering air so thick it could have choked her, if such a thing were possible. A few more steps forward, and she would be in plain sight, completely exposed to the sun's harsh rays. What's more, just a few paces from where she now stood, lay the imaginary line of a border she dared not cross. If she had, she would be vulnerable in more ways than one.
Looking back behind her, she motioned to her two companions that the coast was clear. They sauntered forth eagerly, not feeling the same sense of foreboding that plagued her. Foolishly, they brushed past her, stepping out into the clearing. She had warned them to be cautious. They did not heed her.
Desperately, she reached out, grabbing at their clothes, skin, anything. With a vice-like grip, she pulled them back into the shadows, praying no unwanted eyes had seen. But it was already too late.
She had explained the circumstances to her companions beforehand, but they had not grasped the depth of the situation. Forgetting- or disregarding- her warnings, they had blatantly stepped forward, past the safety of the treeline, over the point of no return. The treaty had been violated.
The instant their scent had crossed the line into their territory, the pack had been sent into a state of alert. She had no doubt that they were coming. She wondered if, due to the long absence of the Cullens, they would cross the boundary in pursuit. With frightened eyes, she turned to her companions, twin expressions of fear on their faces. They could smell the approach of the wolves, hear their cries of bloodlust. It would not be long now. They had little time to flee.
One of her companions, a tall blonde boy who looked to be about nineteen, opened his mouth to speak. "What do we do?" The panic was evidence in his voice. His mouth opened and closed a few times; he was trying to speak, but no sound came out. He gazed desperately at the woman's face, but she was far from hearing him; her eyes were frozen on the treeline. Every single sense in her body, her nerves, her instincts, were all screaming at her to run, but she was too terrified to move.
"I thought you said you had a plan!" Her second companion, a man whose shaggy black hair covered his eyes, stepped in front of her. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he shook her violently, trying to snap her out of her reverie. "Why did we even come here, if you're too scared to follow through?"
"Stop it!" The blonde boy pushed him aside, breaking his hold on the woman, who hadn't moved the whole time. "Please," he begged her. "Tell us what to do." Realizing that she was too far gone to hear him, he yelled her name desperately, trying to evoke a response. " Claire! Wake up! Come on, Claire, we need you to tell us what to do!"
But his words were lost on her, as she looked over his shoulder, her blank, terrified expression morphing into one that was full of emotion and apprehension.
Claire swiftly stepped to the side, past the forgotten boy who had partially blocked her line of sight, her stare locked on the familiar eyes of the wolf who stood just feet away from her.
"Quil."