Hey there, friends! Got a lot of really helpful feedback, so I thought I'd explain a little. Chapter 1 was more of a prologue, and that's my fault entirely for not explaining. It actually started as a plot bunny getting typed out so I wouldn't forget. :)

Anyway, much thanks to everyone for even reading that awkwardly small prologue, but especially for that feedback!

So, now an ACTUAL chapter. Enjoy, and please review!

Chapter 2

The Girl before the Beast…

The Girl was beautiful. She was tall at fourteen, and thin. Sometimes she was shy, other times she was wild. Her hair was long, white blond, and her eyes were magnetizing silver blue. Her skin was fair, as was the pigment of the North, although she lived in the South city. The Southerners were tan, dark-haired, and dark-eyed, much unlike the Girl. She spent most of her days with her sister, Anaya, and her wolf dog, Darius. Anaya was eighteen, their mother dead, and their father an alcoholic. And Cress. Cress was the Girl's best friend and a Southern native. Cress was handsome, tall, and broad shouldered, had dark hair that fell in his eyes, and eyes that shimmered with intelligence and instinct. Eyes that were laughing and warm as summer, then blazing with anger and colder than the thickest snows the next second. The Girl, Cress, and Darius set out every hour they could, because the Girl, the boy, and the wolf all had something in common. An insatiable thirst for adventure. The Girl's name was Dove. And she planned on flying.

Anaya was content with staying in the South city, much unlike Dove. Dove knew there was something out there. Something new, something exciting. She and Cress talked endlessly, of running off to every direction. One day, too hot for exploring, Dove and Cress went to Dove's house, as they did often. Dove would draw, talking to Cress, and Cress would look over her shoulder as she drew. Cress looked at her. "Draw me a dove." She snorted. "Why? I've drawn you a thousand doves in a thousand positions! Why do you need another?" Cress grinned. "It's what you were drawing the day we met!" It was true. After Dove's mother's death, her family moved from the Northern city, Dreas, to the South city, Acur. While her father drowned himself in alcohol, and Anaya worked, Dove drew. She was about seven when they left Dreas. Her mother had named her Dove after the pretty silver bird, found only in Acur. She saw one, hopping through the forest. Entranced, Dove had quickly pulled out her drawing pencils and white paper, trying to sketch it. A voice from behind her startled her. "White paper? You can't get that in Acur." Scared by the legends of Southerners, she screamed loudly. The boy flinched at her shriek, and clapped his hand around her mouth. "Shh!" he hissed. "Keep quiet!" She did. Her silver blue eyes wide, she looked at him, curiously. "Are you really going to rob me and eat my heart?" He looked at her for a moment, dark eyes shocked. Then he burst out laughing. "What?" she asked in indignation. "Why are you laughing?" He snickered. "They tell you stuff like that in Dreas?" She flushed. "H-how do you know I'm from Dreas?" He pointed to her pencils and paper. "Colored pencils and white paper. Only found in Dreas. That is, if you're rich." She flushed deeper. "I'm not rich." He raised his eyebrows. "Sure. I'm Cress. You?" "D-dove." She said quietly. His tanned nose crinkled. "Dove? Like the bird?" She nodded, wondering if this boy, Cress, would end up eating her heart after all.

Cress looked decisively over Dove's black lacey dress, and the mud and water that stained her black boots. He grinned. "Are you a Mourning dove?" Dove felt white-hot rage bite at her sore and broken heart. Gritting her teeth and shaking with rage, she spat out, "How dare you mock my pain?" He grinned all the wider. "Ah, does that make you a Mocking bird?" He let out a boyish shriek of laughter. Dove felt the most animalistic rage fill her body, and tackled the howling boy, screaming in raw anger. His intelligent eyes widened. He'd been teasing in good fun. He'd not expected a girl to tackle him, and especially not a Northern girl! But here he was, falling down the mountain, an avalanche of human stone, with a Northerner girl trying to pick a fight. At the end of the hill, Cress maneuvered his body the way he'd been taught, and pinned Dove to the ground, holding her wrists above her head. Acur was filled with hills. So much so that it's citizens were taught at a young age how to twist their bodies and shift their weight in such a way that they always landed on top of their would-be attacker.

Cress couldn't keep a look of admiration out of his eye. Dove was still thrashing and squirming, hissing insults and snarling threats, even though Cress was nearly twice her size, and definitely stronger than her. "Easy there, little hawk! I was only teasing. Didn't mean a thing by it." Cress said soothingly. Dove glared at him. 'My mother died, you imbecile! You festering toadstool of ignorance! You slimy, scaly, pus-ridden, venom-riddled, night-eyed snake of a boy!" She icily screamed. Cress couldn't stop himself. A pleasantly surprised, admiring look flitted on his face. The kind of look one uses for a dear friend or colleague who has painted an incredible work of art. Not the sort one uses for a stranger who tackled them down a hill while screaming colorful, but hate-filled all the same, insults.

Then the weight of Dove's words actually hit Cress. The boy paled, a freezing feeling sinking it's fangs deep into him. It felt like someone had dumped a bunch of ice into his belly, and had punched him. Cress solemnly rose to his feet, and offered his hand to help Dove up. The laugh in his eyes had completely died, without so much as a spark left. "My deepest apologies. I hadn't realized. I know that is no excuse, but please know that I only meant to tease you. It was not my intention to cause you pain of that sort." Dove blinked at the oddly formal words. Then she sniffed, and mentally kicked herself for showing weakness, and in front of a stranger no less! Anaya popped up at the edge of the hill, also dressed in black. "Hey! Dove! What the heck are you doing down there? Get your sweaty little self up here, now!" Then a torrid of muttered curses followed. Cress glared, and shifted slightly in front of Dove, as if to protect her from Anaya's words. "You know her?" He said, not taking his eyes from the hill. Dove nodded, regaining her composure. "My sister. Anaya." Cress's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Oh, I see. Shall I walk you up? Acur's hills take a bit of getting used to." Dove smiled determinedly. "That's alright. I can do so myself."

Dove most definitely could not do so herself. But being Dove, she was determined to go up that hill with no help, from Anaya, Cress, or anyone, for that matter! Cress easily trotted up the hill's side, whistling cheerfully as he went along, while Dove painfully slowly struggled up, digging her hands into the sod and pulling herself up by the weeds. She finally met Cress up at the top, covered in even more mud and grass than before. Cress laughed lightheartedly. "You're a mess, little hawk!" Before Dove could answer, Anaya grabbed Dove by her wrists. "Could you have been any slower? Geez. Come on, Papa is counting on us to make supper!" Dove's face turned gloomy, and she nodded silently. Anaya pulled her long, grumbling. As Dove looked back at Cress, she couldn't help wondering if she'd ever see that odd Southerner boy again.

Cress flung a pebble at Dove's nose. "Uh, Dove? Where's my drawing?" She blinked, snapping back from her reverie. "Oh! Hah, sorry, Cress. I was just thinking." Cress widened his eyes. "You? Think? What is this, the witching hour?" Dove laughed, shaking her head. "Get outta here, Cress. Seriously, it's nearly sunset. You won't want to be here when Papa returns." Cress's face darkened. Dove's alcoholic father usually returned from wherever the hell he was around sunset. The last time Cress had been there, he'd flown off the handle. Cress had had to fight him, and Dove's father was, of course, drunk as possible. Cress had left her father with a broken nose, a black eye, and a broken wrist.

"Okay. You sure? I'll fight him again…" She looked away. "Yes. I'm sure. Bye, Cress." She said quietly. He sighed. "Bye, Dove." Someone oughtta save her from him. If she stays too much longer, dear ol' Papa might take advantage of her, Cress thought. His blood boiled at the thought. Someone really oughtta teach him a damn lesson… And maybe I'm just the fool to do it.

Just to clear everything up, that was a flashback. Not that I doubt your intelligence :), but I, alas, have no flashback noise. Or flashback font for that matter, without getting too confusing. Anyway, review, ducks!

(P.s. The ducks thing is a habit. My little sister calls me "Bunny" and I have an awkward habit of calling her "duck" or "duckie". Heh, sorry, kids! ^_^;)