He had been told that anguish was for the weak, those who wore their feeble hearts on their sleeves for all to see. He was not Herculean despite his new features, a burden all in itself. Was he one that wore that trodden heart on his sleeve, or had that all been lost?
The boy in question had a secret, as most of those who were stuck in the same situation as he. The ambiguous, 'restricted' secret was kept under wraps by those only who were involved with said persons or were one themselves. Though shrouded in mystery, those who were familiar with the mythical world pick out the ones with the gift, the oh-so scornful passed-down-through-the-generations endowment. It was a talent not normally prominent in his parts of Washington, although the state itself was a fictitious minefield. Whimsically said, it was the gathering grounds for the legendary beings.
The tale had been told throughout the years as just that, a tale. If you were put in a similar situation, would you believe a story that was riddled with scandalous myths of beasts and the entities of old: vampires? Like most of the children who were told the supposedly cock-and-bull story, it sent creepy crawlers up their spines, yet did not disrupt the fanciful glimmer in their adolescent eyes. The behemoth 'wolf men' faring against satanic parasites, otherwise known as bloodsuckers.
It was told to only those who resided in the land that was recently named La Push. Those who heard the fable imagined it as a kind of parable that sought to teach the young descendants a moral. (Though most hadn't a clue why a story of supposed mythical ones would teach them a lesson, and if it did, an albeit twisted version of what one may be)
The boy, Seth Clearwater, had heard this same story.
At the soft age of eleven, it had been depicted to him, and there on for seven years afterward. When hearing the story through his teenage reign, it was considered a 'lie' or in the words of his teenage self, "a fucking lie", the swear quite needed, for all intents and purposes.
But he did not think it a lie anymore, as he had been one who retained the ability to transform into one of the wolf men himself. He had been one of those fortunate enough to acquire the aptitude through the tainted bloodline, a permanent mark on his biological record.
And though he was one of those with the gift, he had not been told all of its secrets. In essence, that was not the most visionary thing the Council of La Push had ever done, another permanent mark on Seth Clearwater's biological record.
"Clearwater!"
Seth was used to being called by his surname, especially by the infamous Sam Uley. He supposed that he was simply bitter, but he'd never admit that to anyone other than his conscious.
"Clearwater, why in God's name don't you have a phone?"
It wasn't normal for Sam to be so frazzled-sounding, Seth mused, but then again, he didn't really care. Now Seth wasn't normally so bad-tempered, but when Sam came into question, Seth's mood significantly clouded. That may or may not have to do with Sam's unscrupulous break-up with his sister, but I'll leave that for you to discern.
Footsteps on stairs: Bitch is using my stairs, Seth grumbled.
The door to his room flew open unceremoniously, giving way to Sam, looking as frazzled as his voice had implied. Seth stood and brushed off his pants.
"What?"
Sam raised one eyebrow at the tone of Seth's voice, but decided that right now was not the time for obedience training. Damn pups.
"Did you not get a call from Billy Black? Apparently Charlie Swan's daughter has gone missing." he explained.
"And?"
"We are going to look for her." The resonance of Sam's delivered sentence had 'no nonsense' stamped all over it, much to Seth's chagrin. He concluded that he had better not disobey and gave Sam a half-assed nod.
"Where is she exactly?" he asked, reaching over to his bed to grab his jacket. He reasoned beforehand that going out in the middle of fall without some kind of cover for the cold would cause unnecessary talk, so he did not want to push his luck.
"In the forest behind Charlie's house. Since it's just rained, her scent's probably long gone, so we're flying blind."
"How wonderful, Sam. I'll go waste my time now." He ascended to his feet and hurried out the door, partially due to Sam's rage and partially due to his inability to withstand being in the same room as the rodent. He couldn't exactly help his feelings for the man, right?
He donned his leather jacket, giving the too-short sleeves a glare. All of his clothes had been impossible since his induced transformation. Seth was not from a wealthy family, so this was a gigantic problem that he had yet to deal with.
"Probably get hand me downs from Quil," he muttered under his breath. As he shut the front door to his house, he got hit with a wave of misty vapor. Spluttering, he wiped a hand over his face and then wrung it out promptly. This is not my lucky day, he thought.
He stuck his hands in his pocket and started walking. Dark rain clouds peppered the skies, weeping out rain. Rain meant a clean slate. A clean slate meant he had nothing to use to search for the chief's daughter. How fitting that I would get this shitty luck, or lack thereof.
His steps had turned into childish stomps on the pavement. An sizzle of anger throbbed from behind his temples, as it always seemed to do lately when he became aggravated. It was now a daily thing for him to become irate. No longer did he have the slightest control over his emotions; they flowed all by themselves, and that did not deter his sentiments.
He was cursed now, as were all the others.
The realization had yet to settle in Seth's mind. He was used to his undeniable freedom, which he often took for granted. He couldn't go out and do what he wanted now. That had long been flushed down the irreversible drain along with his other hopes and dreams.
He was nearing the border of the vegetation, which was covered in a fine amount of slimy rain. An exasperated grunt left his lips as he shrugged his way passed the various leaves, bushes, and growth. He had deliberately remained in his human state due to his dislike of all the scents and smells of the forest. They were too much, and often made him nauseated. Even though his sense of smell was far advanced in his usual form, at times it could be practically suffocating.
He stumbled on the vines and various plant life and stubbed his toes on mismatched rocks. In spite of the elders' praises of the werewolves' grace, Seth did not feel very graceful as he tripped and blundered through the wilderness.
It felt like forever and longer before he finally got somewhere, which, all in all, did not feel like somewhere. In fact, it felt exactly like the last clearing he had trudged through (and fallen through, I might add).
He got a whiff of a more human smell, but his high spirits had dropped once he got the undertone of it: vampire rank.
Must be the girl then.
He pushed back a low branch (which had conveniently slapped him in the face afterward) and spotted a form sitting in the middle of two large trees. He sighed in annoyance and marched forward, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Found you."