Yes, it's been awhile. Fortunately, my muse has returned full force, and updates should be much more frequent from here on out! Thank you for your patience and your feedback - it is all greatly appreciated, and please know that you are all loved by me :)

Craziness. Absolute, utter craziness. That is the reaction that Paul Lahote evokes in me. He makes me so painstakingly enraged that I become a delusional mad woman. That's just peachy. People can't just shift into wolves….I must really be going off the deep end. And it's all HIS fault.

I decided that I wouldn't feed my imagination anymore for today, so I relented to the beckoning call of my warm, dry house. Depressingly enough, I found that I was no longer hungry to eat the delicious food Sue made for me.

Huh. Well that's odd. Normally after expelling so much energy into an argument, I'd just be that much more starved. But, alas, my previously-insatiable hunger had simply up and vanished, and left in its place a knot in the pit of my stomach. I was uncomfortable, as though my body was trying to tell me something, and it wasn't happy with me because I just wasn't getting it. I had this irrational desire to go out in the cold and rain to follow the path that that animal took….if there really was an animal. It was almost as though a string had been attached to my belly button, and whatever creature lurked in those woods was trying to tug me towards it, persistent and unyielding. Damn my curiosity.

Since my homework was as good as done, and I couldn't reacquire my previous desire for food, what could be the harm in going on a little adventure? I pull on my rain slicker and yank the hood up, jogging out the door with a heavy-duty flashlight. Here's the good thing about taking a heavy-duty flashlight on an adventure: first, it helps you to see through the dark, rainy woods, and secondly, it can be used as a weapon of opportunity if the need for self-defense arises. That's right. I'm a well-tuned adventuring machine.

As soon as I step off the covered porch, I'm bombarded with the storm that seemingly maximized tenfold in strength during my five minutes of sheltered warmth inside. I couldn't bring myself to turn around and run for the safety of home, however; not when the rain slanted and started pelting me in the face like dozens of needles, not when the chill started seeping through my useless rain slicker, and not even when I was momentarily frightened by the gigantic paw prints by the bush did I desert my mission. I don't like letting anything get the best of me, and so whatever feelings I may or may not have been feeling, confusing as they were, needed to be put to rest immediately. Therefore, I forged on in the raging wind and rain, praying that I wouldn't get pneumonia. Whatever entity was on the other end of this string attached to my belly button was reeling me in. And I hated it.

Suddenly, something caught my eye from the edge of my flashlight beam. A surface not matching the cool serenity greens and browns of the forest was laying a few yards away, beneath some shrubbery in an attempt to keep the object safe and dry. As I approach the fabric, an icy feeling of dread creeps through me. It looks like….a man's pair of denim shorts. I hunch over and grab them, and as soon as fingers meet fabric, the shorts practically disintegrate in my hands. Something has violently ripped these shorts, or whomever may have been wearing these shorts, to shreds. I'm shaking, but I'm doubtful the cold has anything to do with it. What could've done this? A bear? There's no blood anywhere that I can see, but that does little to ease my worry. Lately, we've had some problems with hunters going missing in the area, but I've lived in such a mellow town my whole life that the attacks just didn't seem real to me until now. Suddenly, I'm running east through the forest, toward where I know the road runs through. I keep the fabric clenched tightly in my shaking fist as I run, hoping the rain causing it to become a soggy tangled web won't tamper with the evidence.

My sandals weren't really the most suitable for me to slip on while leaving the house, I found, as the roots were tripping me up and the twigs were snapping and scratching my feet as I catapulted myself wildly between the trees. I burst wildly through the tree line and sprinted with all the remaining energy I could muster down the winding road leading to a small white house on Main Forks Road.

I've nearly made it, I can see Chief Swan's house in the distance now, when the sound of tires screeching causes me to fling myself to the side of the road and stop running to face my almost-murderer. Oh, how highly amusing.

There I stand, hunched over and panting like a dog, in the pelting rainstorm with a violent expression on my utterly pissed off face, while Leah frickin' Clearwater stalls her big red pickup in the middle of the road, howling at me in laughter.

"What the hell, Lee?" I growl, my breathing still ragged.

"I think the more pressing question would be, what the hell are you doing, Em? You look like a drowned rat that just saw a cat!" Leah smacks the dashboard and hoots.

"I'll have you know, I have very important business to attend to, Lee! Give me a lift to the Chief's house?" I call, sauntering around to the passenger side and swinging myself in roughly.

"The Chief's house? Shit, what'd you do, Em?" I glare at her from under my sopping bangs. "I didn't do anything. I have to show him this!" I thrust the soggy material in front of her wide eyes.

She frowns. "Where'd you find that, Em?" "The woods outside my place. How the hell are you so calm about this? These could be evidence, Lee. Think of all those disappearances…" I trail off, as Leah stares at me dubiously. She frowns at the shorts, as if she's imagining the person wearing them, and she's regarding them with distaste.

"I really wouldn't worry about it, Em. I guarantee you that those shorts do not belong to a dead man," Leah pauses, "yet," she mutters under her breath.

"Leah, how could you possibly know that?" I study her, and I immediately sense that my best friend is hiding something. "What aren't you telling me, Lee?"

She glares at her feet for a moment before she yanks the truck into drive and starts heading in the direction of La Push. "Em, Sam's frickin' puppies spend all their time in the woods these days. I'd bet money that those pants belong to one of the assholes, okay?"

Shit, touchy subject. How could I forget about that? One of the guys probably left them there after one of their little powwows. Or a certain womanizing asshole you know left them there after doing unspeakable acts with one of his conquests in the forest. I shudder involuntarily. Wait, why am I thinking about him? Why do I care what he does in the forest? That's right; I don't. I'm about to turn my head to stare out at the mundane scenery I've known for the past sixteen years, when I suddenly realize that my best friend is currently wearing a strikingly red tank top and her own pair of denim shorts. In forty-degree weather.

"Uhm, Lee?" She raises a brow. "Why are you wearing that in the middle of a monsoon?"

"I'm hot." She smirks knowingly. I chuckle. "Not as hot as me, my friend."

The tension in the cab has lifted, and I'm smiling along with my best friend in friendly banter when I realize I'm still clutching that stupid pair of shorts in my fist. Wow, now I feel like a complete idiot. I crank the passenger window down, ignoring the rain that has slowed to a pleasant drizzle on my face, and casually fling the tangled mass out the window and into the sloshing rain gutter along the side of the road. Damn overactive imagination, I have.

We're sitting in a comfortable silence, the radio humming at us softly and the gentle patter of rain soothing, when I finally bother to take notice that we have passed the Clearwater house.

"Lee, where are we going?" I murmur questioningly. "Sam and Emily's." she grunts. "I need to pick up Seth. Mom needs our help at the diner tonight, so he's going to have to switch his patr- erm, plans."

I observe her questioningly with my eyes, silently telling her that I don't buy the bullshit. The Leah Clearwater I know and love would never, under any circumstances, allow her precious little brother to spend time with the gang of steroid-using-jerkoffs led by her ringleader of an ex-boyfriend.

"Don't ask, Em." She sighs heavily. "It's so complicated, you don't even know. Mom says Seth looks up to Jacob and them, and that he needs an older male figure in his life." Normally I wouldn't question it when Leah appeared sad over something pertaining to the recent and untimely death of her father, but now, looking at Leah's wandering eyes and ticking jaw, I know she's lying through her teeth. I pride myself on my ability to call bullshit, but noticing the dead look in my best friend's eyes, I decide not to push the real subject of why she's so upset. At least, not yet. I know it still takes a lot for her to face Sam and her cousin after all that's happened, and I need to be supportive. The type of friend her cousin failed to be for her. I am not Emily Young's biggest fan, by any stretch of the imagination.

"'Kay." I shrug noncommittally, letting her know the subject is not completely dropped, but I'll allow it for the moment and be there for her as we approach their lair.

The quaint red bungalow soon comes into view, Emily's flower gardens bursting with beautiful blooms. Of course she would have made the place look nice, Miss Perfect. Damn her, and her petunias too.

As Leah reluctantly coasts the truck to a stop in the gravel driveway, I don't miss the look of utter pain and annoyance on her face as she glances up at the red house. While Leah hesitates, I decide to make the first move and bound up to the door, rapping on it loudly thrice. I can go drag Seth out by his hair myself, and protect my best friend from having to confront her tormenters. I distantly hear Leah calling for me to hold up, but all rational thought seems to escape my head as the door swings open exuberantly and I meet eyes with the one person I want to avoid for the rest of my life. The first thought that enters my mind would have to be; Hasn't today just been the luckiest day of my life to date?

So, not to beg, but this girl would love some reviews :) Anything you have to say to help me improve is music to my ears! Much love 3

Shout-outs to my lovely reviewers - you all rock!

.ravenclaw : Thank you, I am loads better now:) I'm eager to see it develop too - I have so many ideas! Love to you for reviewing!

Affectionate at Heart : Thanks, I hope you post something of your own soon, I'd love to read it! (It is a bit overwhelming at first, I've found, but then you find your muse and the world is good!) Your encouragement means a lot, thanks so much :)

Laura : Thank you for taking the time to review - it meant a lot to me! :)

imagination writings : Your encouragement really helped convince me to keep going strong with this story, and for that I thank you :) (p.s. I am a girl, LOL)

Kittenshift17 : I adore you. That's simply all there is to it. You will never know how much your advice means to me. I'm striving to adhere to everything you told me - thanks for spending your time on little old me, and a Twilight fanfiction no less, haha ;) Really, though, it means the world, thank you times a million!