I do not own anything from Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does. I get nothing from the writing of this story, besides happiness.

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I remember waking up to Claire's bright blue eyes only inches away from my face. "Get up, please!" Her quiet soprano voice irks me in the morning. I rolled over, trying to cling to sleep, but she poked me in the ear that was left exposed. "I said please!" She was getting cross, which only ever leads to hair pulling, so I shoved my blankets to the side and sat up. "What is it Bug? I'm sleeping." I grabbed a hair elastic from my nightstand and worked at restraining the mass of curls that was trying to suffocate me. "Up up, time to take me to the playground! You PROMISED." Claire was already dressed, with her galoshes on, with her little fists resting on her nonexistent child hips. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand, it told me little, as numbers don't mean much to me when I first wake up. "Ok Bug, let me get dressed and grab some breakfast and then we'll go." She just nodded and trudged out to the living room. I shut the door to my bedroom as I heard the familiar sounds of Saturday morning cartoons drift down the hallway.

I looked at the clock again, this time discerning that it was still before nine am. Why me? I hate mornings. Why can't Claire be like other kids and like to sleep in on the weekends? I knew that wasn't fair and that lots of other children woke up early, but I had never been one of them. I went to the closet, picking my way past books and dirty laundry. I rummaged around until I found a clean pair of jeans and a tank top. Today seems like a day for green, yeah. Now where are my socks? I dug through my drawers to no avail. I grabbed a sweatshirt from off the floor and pulled it on over my head. Barefoot, I grabbed my cell phone from the nightstand and shoved it in my pocket as I opened the door to the hallway. Socks, socks, socks. Where could they be? I meandered down the stairs to the laundry room and searched the dryer for a clean pair. I ended up with two different blue socks, but at least they were both blue. Now that my feet were warm, I trudged up the stairs to make some breakfast. Claire was still watching cartoons, but I could tell she was getting impatient by the tapping of her galoshes on the linoleum.

I opened the fridge. Disappointed by the slim selection, I instead grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the counter. I held it between my teeth as I rummaged in the cupboard for a travel mug. Thank goodness for automatic coffee makers. I poured myself some very strong French roast and walked out to the living room. Setting both the apple and the mug down on the banister, I grabbed my shoes and tugged them on. "Ok Claire, I'm ready to go now. Did you tell Daddy where we're going?" She turned off the TV and jumped up from the couch. "Nope. He's sleeping. But don't worry I drew him a picture to 'splain when he wakes up." She wrestled into her raincoat, as I walked down the hallway. I opened the door to my Dad's bedroom, the light was off. "Hey Dad? I'm taking Claire to the park; I have my cell phone on." I whispered to the sleeping mass. All I got was a muffled grunt as a response, but that was enough. "Okey dokey kiddo, let's do this!" I grabbed my apple and coffee from the banister and as an afterthought stuffed my iPod in the pocket of my sweatshirt. We walked the ten minutes to the park hand-in-hand, with the occasional break for puddle jumping, in the constant drizzle that is spring in the Pacific Northwest.

When we got to the park Claire immediately got busy climbing and jumping, and running around. I just sat on the bench, trying to avoid the moss covered sections, and stuck the iPod ear buds in the appropriate auditory canals. I munched on my apple, giving my coffee time to cool, as I watched Claire play. The trees that shaded the east half of the park blocked out what little sunshine was able to break through the cloud cover, making it more than a little chilly. It was still before ten am, and we were alone on the playground, although some early morning dog walkers were out on the trails. I was finally waking up, thanks to my hot cup of caffeine, when the battery on my iPod died. Shit. I pulled out the headphones, and tucked the whole contraption in my pocket. That's when I heard it.

At first, all I noticed was Claire's squeals of joy as she swung from the monkey bars. But then I caught a scrap of noise, barely audible. It sounded like breathing. More like a breathy growl to be exact. I didn't want to alarm Claire, especially considering how paranoid I can get, so I just sat for a few moments listening carefully. For a while there was just the breathing, then a twig snapped, and the breathing sounded closer. I heard a more distinct growl, throatier than before. I stood, very nervous now, and looked around. The west side of the playground was open to the baseball field, nowhere for anything to hide. That left only the woods to the east side of the park. I walked the perimeter of the playground, still trying to keep Claire from noticing. "Hey Bug, I'm going to go look at something real quick ok? I'll be just a few feet away, so don't get scared. I'll be right back, stay here." She kept swinging, not acknowledging that I had spoken. I shrugged and stepped in between the trees at the edge of the playground. I was determined to find the source of the panting. Maybe it's a dog, a stray that's hurt or something. I tried to convince myself that it was harmless, but it wasn't working very well.

I had barely taken ten steps into the shaded sanctuary of the forest when I heard the breathing again, louder and to the right. I veered off the path towards the sound. I came across some tracks in the dirt that looked to be large dog prints. HUGE dog prints. I followed the sounds and the prints to a large fir. I leaned against the tree, its bark rough on my cheek. I paused, suddenly uncertain if I really wanted to know what lay on the other side. The tree was so large that if there were three of me holding hands, we still wouldn't make it all the way around. I gulped loudly, froze, and as I poked my head around the tree I came face-to-face with the largest, most intimidating canine I've ever seen. It was laying in the dirt at the base of the tree, staring up at me, seemingly in surprise. It was larger than any dog I'd ever seen, including the Great Dane Irish Wolfhound mix that belonged to the family down the street from me. It had long brown-gray fur and black eyes that were quickly turning from surprised to hostile. The fur on its neck went up and I scrambled back, tripping over a root. And in a second it, whatever it was, was gone; running off into the trees.

I got back to the playground just in time to see Claire fall off the big toy and embed what seemed like a tree branch sized splinter in her knee. The tears continued to fall even after I pulled it out, all the way back home, and didn't stop until she had a Popsicle stuffed in her little maw. It wasn't until later that day did I have a chance to mull over what I'd seen at the park.