My muse is on a ROLL! YES! I may be able to finish this story! Hope you liked the last (really long for me) chapter!
Flamiel shook the ice off his pelt and pounded over the snow. He howled at the rising sun, and almost immediately a howl answered back.
"Flamiel!" a golden-furred Verevire appeared at a hill of ice and bounded over, transforming swiftly into a tall vampire with blond hair. Flamiel transformed into his vampire form, and seemed distracted, as his hair popped out all over the place on his scalp, having never been tamed with such foreign words as "shampoo" and "brush". He patted it into what he decided was a dignified manner, and nodded at the other vampire.
"Dindalin. Glad to see you again!" Flamiel smiled. Dindalin grinned back and a gush of words spouted from his mouth.
"Flamiel! Where did you go? What were you thinking, swimming the Strait? Did you SEE that giant mass of people gathered near the shore?! Crazy!" Dindalin shook his head. Flamiel shrugged.
"They backed off the second they saw me. They were vampires, just normal ones. The Volturi, actually."
Dindalin's smile faltered.
"What? What is it?" Flamiel queried. Dindalin slowly shook his head sadly.
"The Volturi are...planning on...quelling...us...when they finish their business in America." Dindalin could tell what the Volturi were planning. Just the Volturi. This made him quite popular among the other Verevires, as all of them loathed the Volturi with every single bone in their body. This arose from the natural tension between vampires and werewolves.
Flamiel's eyes glittered like steel.
"Who said THEY are going to quell US?" he said softly. Dindalin's smile returned, a crafty one this time.
"I shall gather our kind, and some of the smarter werewolves, too." Dindalin transformed back to his wolf form and trekked over the bleak landscape. Flamiel was left with the company of a polar bear that regarded him suspiciously from the waterline. Last time it checked, wolves were wolves. Vampires were vampires. Its brain did not process that wolves could be vampires, too.
"Hello," Sam said. "Welcome to Antior, the only town of vampires. I see you have met one of the students at our school, Jessica," Sam was a tall vampire with tan skin (somehow his years of exposure to almost full sun over the years had made his skin tan), and his hair was a unique stained maple-wood color. He was the founder and leader of the town of vampires, Antior, and seemed very friendly.
"The Volturi are making trouble," Edward explained. Sam frowned.
"They are always trouble. What is so different now?"
"They are trying to take over North America. You know what will happen when they find you, correct?" Edward said steadily. Sam's face betrayed nothing.
"The Volturi do not bother us anymore," he said flatly. "They have sent their guards to quell us before. We have established a marble firepit just for the purpose," Sam finished. Edward replied in that perfectly steady voice,
"The entire Volturi is currently some miles north of the Canadian border."
Sam out his hand on Edward's and looked him straight in the eye.
"We will fight for freedom. We will fight for peace. We will fight for Antior, and for any more towns to come."