jacob.

Shit! I have no idea what to do! Do I help her? Run the fuck away? The last one was quickly dismissed. No way am I running away from a fricking girl the size of a toothpick... even if she was a wolf three point two seconds ago! A wolf as big as me! Which meant she had been larger than... EVERYONE ELSE! That shouldn't even be possible!

I shed my wolf form, sure that growling or barking wouldn't be an effective means of communication now.

"Hey, uh... girl." I almost called her Blondie, but that made me think of that one leech and also 'cause her hair is not nearly dark enough to be blonde. It is... white? "Are you...?" Awake? Alive? One of us? So many possible conclusions to that question are running through my head as I look at her and take a few cautious steps forward, forgetting my nudity and reassured by the feel of grass beneath my toes, corny as it is.

"Am I what?" I've never heard a voice so serene that could subtly give me the vibes that she wanted me to get the fuck away. There was a definite undercurrent of hostility. My inner wolf is bristling, now, my arms tensed. She rolls over, that long curtain of hair more like a blanket than anything else. I remember now that I'm not dressed. I'm not Jacob the human right now. I'm Jacob the fucking werewolf (screw what mind-rapist says) and a lack of clothes comes with the territory from time to time. Even in the presence of a girl. Fuck.

"I don't even know," I say honestly, sure that I'm scowling right now. There's something unnerving about her. She was a wolf, but her skin is pale and her hair snow-white. If it weren't for her heavy breathing and, of course, the fact she was a WOLF, I'd think she was... she was...

"You're a shape-shifter, aren'cha?" Her accent is hard to place. Mixed, but foreign all the same. Cultured, maybe. "Never met one of those before... there's a first for everything." Exhaustion is evident in the way she doesn't even try to get up, the slight tremble in her muscles, but her impossibly light eyes are alert, her voice smooth and nonchalant. If her hair wasn't practically the same shade as her skin, if it'd been darker... if her eyes a warm brown and not... not... whatever colors they are... I'd think she looked like...

Well, no.

Her face is different. Stunning, even. Her face is symmetrical, smoothed to perfection. Youthful, even. But not child-like. Bella was gorgeous, even if she never saw it. Different kinds of beauty. Neither one better. I keep looking for flaws as I stay silent, ultimately deciding that it's her hair I don't like. It's too bright. Inhuman.

"I'll take that as a... as a yes." She takes a deep breath. Her heart is racing, but she's not showing it. Vamp-colored-skin or not, she's among the living. I still have my reservations as I watch, not sure why I'm looking at her so much. I'm just happy I didn't imprint, though. I still had a choice in everything. Thank God. "You're just... going to stand there?" She looks at me again, having closed her eyes for a bit. I give a shrug. "No territorial display? I'm in your guys' land, am I not?"

"You want to be kicked out?" I wonder why I'm not about to do just that.

"Not particularly. I don't think I have the energy to run right now..." Anxiety lurks in her face, but she's trying to mask it. I have her at a disadvantage and she knows it. "We're almost cousins." What? "Species-wise. I'm a werewolf. You're a shifter. We... both turn in to wolves?"

"We're different."

"Yes."

I wonder why I had expected her to argue that point.

"Where am I?"

"La Push."

"La...?"

"Push. La Push Reservation."

"Res-"

"Washington State. America? North America?"

"-erv-"

"Northern hemisphere?"

"-ation?"

"Earth?"

"Native Ame-"

"The milky way galaxy?"

"-ricans?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. I didn't know I went this far South."

"...South? This is North!"

"I was Norther."

"North... er?"

"Alaska." Her eyelids flutter shut. Why are her eyelashes so dark when her hair is so light? "It's nice there..."

"Uh... huh." Dark shadows are under her eyes. I don't know why I never noticed. Still, she's not in leech-territory, but it's still unnerving.

"I've always wanted to ride a horse," her voice is getting more and more sing-song with every syllable. "Horses don't like me."

"What?"

"I am predator."

"...?"

"They are prey."

"...!"

"It's all instinct, really."

"..."

"I'm tired."

And she passes out.