elise.
The calm before the storm.
Cliché, sure, but that's what Elise likes to call it. She runs her fingers through her long, ivory hair (she always says she's just a really light blonde), scanning the basement that she's been renting. It's cool, dark, and cozy – exactly how she likes it.
The calm before the storm.
It's wishful thinking, actually. She's anything but calm right now, but she always does everything she can to give the illusion of it. Who's she trying to fool? Herself? No one is here, thank goodness, she's alone. She rents from a guy who works two-weeks-on, two-weeks-off in the North Slope, up in Alaska on the pipeline. He's not a stranger, she used to know him so well... but she can't even remember his name.
Anxiously, Elise looks at the window, at the dimness outside. Soon, the call would be unbearable. Soon, she'd have to run.
It's a good thing we're on the outskirts of town, she thinks, I won't have far to go. She won't be turning into a wolf tonight, no, that was tomorrow night. But she was always a mess the day before. Hell, she used to be a mess all the time, but with time came understanding, with time came control.
Elise takes a deep breath, turns off the TV set she never really watches, and sprints up the stairs, two at a time, at an inhuman speed.
Minutes later, she's miles away, in a different part of forest than before.
For reasons unknown, something compels her to go further West, further South...