Because I am such a remarkably lazy person by nature, I shall not repeat myself and will instead direct you to the first chapter of Witch Tales to get the scoop on why there are so many updates at once.

Although, I do feel the urge to warn you that the first few chapters of this are terribly written and, once again, I'm just too lazy to rewrite them. This spawned out of a random idea I had, but that is no excuse for the lameness. I can only ask your forgiveness now before you go out to buy your tomatoes, hoping to seek your mercy.

It will be better in the future, I promise.

And hopefully longer. All these first chapters are at least half as small, if not a third, as the chapters from both Witch Tales and Digimon Heroes. Even more of a reason to despise these.

Yuck.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters save for Charlie and her family. Virtually 90 of everyone else will belong to Studio Bones and anyone else responsible for the creation of Wolf's Rain. Please do not sue me for using them... and please do not sue me for my bad writing, either. I'm broke, I swear.


Chapter 1

The Encounter


La la la la la

A soft breeze carried the voice down through the valley, echoing off the towering stonewalls. Looking up, one could see the walls went on for practically forever. A small strip of cloud-spotted blue was proof enough that it didn't.

La la la la la

The breeze swept in soft whispers down the walls, leaving a sharp whistle with every crack it passed, and pulled up just enough to skim over the valley floor. The field of flowers swayed gently like the rippling of a sea of white.

La la la la la

A delicate, sweet scent wafted before her. Eyes slid shut as she inhaled deeply, letting the tingling sensations that rippled over her skin fill her entire body, inside and out. There was such… life… in that scent… unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Life… and mystery… and… something else… something she couldn't quite identify, but… shouldn't she?

La la la la la

Her eyes snapped open. There was the girl again. She sat upon a small knoll, a wave in the sea of flowers, her legs tucked neatly beneath her. Short, silky strands of lilac hair danced on her smooth cheeks, small cherry lips parted with the enchanting tune passing through. Her heavily lidded eyes were cast downward, focused on something among the blossoms.

La la la la la

The onlooker's gaze fell to where the girl's hands were stroking the flowers. Long, elegant fingers combed through the petals like strands of hair, a gentle smile gracing her lips as she sang.

La la la la la

Suddenly, the blossoms rose. A shaggy, white mass rose from the sea and turned to face the spectator.

La la la la laaaaaaaaaaa……

Flower maiden… Where are you?


"Charlie! It's 7:00! Time to get up!"

A load groan and shuffle of bed sheets was the response.

The young woman smiled, shaking her head. Sharp tugging on the hem of her shirt caught her attention, and, without looking down at the children, she jerked her chin at the closed door.

"Go ahead," she told them. "Go get her."

The siblings exchanged glances before donning identical wicked grins and tearing out of the kitchen and down the hallway, stampeding through the door with the strength of an elephant, screaming just as loud.

The woman chuckled and returned to her paper, fingers skimming over the indentations quickly.

"Five… four… three… two…"

"THAT'S IT!"

Sure enough, seconds later, the twins were racing out just as quickly, screaming what sounded like "Child abuse!" at the top of their lungs, a furious older sister at their heels. She paused in her pursuit long enough to throw her mother a deadly glare. "Don't pretend you don't know I'm glaring at you," she hissed before taking off after the twins again.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, sweetheart," her mother called out sweetly.

"Yeah, yeah," was her daughter's response.


You're here… I can feel it… the lunar flower…


Several minutes later found the twins peeling caked toothpaste off of their clothes and the sister responsible in the bathroom, brushing her teeth with said toothpaste and a satisfied smirk settled across her face.

"Serves them right," she told herself as she sloshed the foam in her mouth and spit it into the sink. Reaching for a hand towel, she wiped the excess toothpaste from her mouth and leaned forward, pulling back her lips to inspect her work.

La la la la la

The towel dropped to the countertop. Her hands braced the sides of the sink as she leaned over it, long tresses veiling her sight from her own reflection. Lips parted slightly as her breath suddenly came short, her arms trembling lightly.

It's always the same dream, she thought wearily. The song, the valley, the flowers, the girl, and…

"Charlie! Breakfast is ready!"

"Coming!" she replied, shaking her head and straightening, turning to open the bathroom door. But as she walked back toward the kitchen, she still couldn't shake the last vision from her mind.

The piercing gaze of the golden eyes.


I can sense you… you're close… so close…


"Charlie, we're going to-"

"-be so totally late!"

A pair of irritated violet eyes glared at the twins through the rearview mirror.

"It's not my fault that two certain somebodies who shall remain unknown accidentally tripped over my alarm clock plug," she retorted sourly.

From the twins' vantage point, a hand reached out from the passenger seat to rest on Charlie's shoulder. "Chill out, Char. It's not like Sam and Tim did anything on purpose."

"That's right," piped the younger of the two.

"We'd never," agreed her brother.

Charlie scowled, throwing her companion a look that bled betrayal. The third sibling merely grinned, winking briefly before turning over her shoulder, raising a hand to her mouth.

"Of course," she added, whispering loudly, "I'm only saying that so she stays calm enough to drop me off at school. You guys are on your own as soon as I set foot on campus."

"And without Whitney to hide behind," Charlie added, a devilish grin slowly growing on her face, "your fate will be in my hands."

"Charlene can't hurt us," Tim assured his sister. "Mom'll ground her if she does."

"Yeah, Tim, keep believing that," Whitney laughed. "You sound so convincing with shaking hands and puppy dog pajamas on."

"We already told you," Sam argued in her brother's defense. "It's pajama day!"

"That's enough, you guys," Charlie ordered. "No fighting unless I can come out the win-"

"Charlie! Look out!" Whitney screamed.

Feet slammed on the brakes before any logical reasoning as to what she was avoiding even had time to cross her mind. Next thing she knew, four screams shot through her ear as they skidded across the pavement, tires screeching.

"Everyone stay down!" Charlie yelled as her hands dropped from the crazily spinning steering wheel, leaving it to straighten itself as she was taught. With one hand clinging to the edge of the seat, the other reached out for her sister's hand, squeezing firmly.

God, please don't let us die, she begged, eyes clasping shut.


At last… I've found you…


It took several seconds after they had finally coasted to a stop before Charlie cautiously opened one eye enough to confirm that God had apparently answered her small plea. Opening both eyes, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Is everyone okay?"

"Ugh, yeah," Whitney moaned, a hand cradling her head tenderly. "I just bumped my head on the seat rest, is all," she added at the sight of her elder sister's worried expression.

Charlie's brow furrowed but she didn't comment, instead opting for twisting around in her seat. "Tim? Sam? What about you two? You all right?"

"Yeah," mumbled one while the other sniffled loudly, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

"Sam," Charlie called softly, holding out her hand to the whimpering girl. The child looked at the hand, tears still clinging onto her eyelashes, hesitating only a moment before grabbing it, offering her worried sibling a teary smile. Charlie returned the smile with one of her own, squeezing the small hand in reassurance.

Tim, a little impatient for the sentimentalities to end, pressed his face up against the window, trying to shove himself close enough into the glass to see the front of the van. "What did we hit, anyway?"

Sam gasped, eyes wide. "We hit something!?" she squeaked, looking like she was ready to burst into tears all over again.

"Yeah, didn't you feel it?" Tim continued. "It must have been a buffalo or something."

"There are no buffalo in West Cove, Timmy," Whitney told him, still dazed.

"What was it, then?" he demanded.

"Tim, that's enough," Charlie said, exasperated.

The boy frowned only briefly before tearing off his seatbelt and opening the door. "Well, I want to go see what we hit," he exclaimed as he jogged along the side of the vehicle.

Charlie sighed, about to call out for her little brother when his voice rang out in child-like awe. "Whoa! Hey, you guys! Check this out!"

The three girls exchanged confused glances before unbuckling themselves and moving out of the van to join Tim at his side.

'Whoa' was an understatement. Fresh new tears started trickling down Sam's face as she buried her face in Charlie's side. Charlie's arm wrapped around the child's shoulders while, on her other side, Whitney gasped, holding a hand to her mouth in shock. Tim stood in front of them, staring down at the evidence of their abrupt stop. No one could say a word.

Crimson liquid oozed down the grill and headlights, dripping into a pool on the pavement. Blood splashed all across the street, streaked down the lane for at least half a block by the tires. Everything reeked of that salty, pungent stench.

"Oh my god," Charlie whispered, horrified.

Sam refused to peek, latching herself even tighter onto her sister's leg. Tim stood transfixed to the spot, eyes locked on the blood.

"Man, Whit," he breathed, his 9-year-old boy mentality fascinated by the sight. "What was it you saw?"

"I-I don't know," she admitted, stammering, her fingers fluttering over her lips as she stared. "All I remember was white… something white just flashed in front of us and… and…"

"White?"

Whitney glanced at her sister, wondering whether or not she had imagined her voice. She stared at a spot before her, her normally pale skin almost completely bleached, lips parted as her breath suddenly left her.

"You're sure you saw white?" she repeated softly.

Whitney nodded, licking her lips nervously as her eyes followed Charlie's intent gaze.

The only area that wasn't painted in red was a trunk-sized space just beneath the front of the van. The trickling blood around the borders didn't help to reveal the identity of the offended victim, but a trail of heavy padded paw prints into the alleyway assured that it was some form of canine.

"Yeah, I'm sure."