Chapter 5

I need to pee.

I have known this for the past few hours and am continually reminded of the fact, as it has begun to cause restlessness. The need penetrates my dreams and the fullness of my bladder causes discomfort when in any of my usual sleeping positions.

Huffing, I throw back my sleeping bag and covers. I have to give in. I really need to pee. Yet, I fear that if I rise now, I will not find solace in my bed again until night falls. The tan walls of the tent are slightly illuminated by the sun. The tent is dusted with a lazy golden glow.

After the chaos outside of the encampment ended early this morning, a lull has covered the community. Not a word seems to be spoken in all of the tribe. Breakfast was not prepared; not a soul complained. Lunchtime is fast approaching and I strain my ears in an attempt to pick up the faintest sound of a clank or clack from the kitchen. Nothing.

It is as if a melancholy spirit swept through the tents. Exhaustion is the other culprit, but the solemnity of the people hangs in the air. The majority of the community is capitalizing on these still hours to rest their bodies and minds. Now that we are safe, we have an opportunity to sleep and calm our heavy hearts. This community nap is like a reset. When everyone begins to wake again, they can start over. Treat the afternoon or evening like a morning. A frest start with the strength to carry on with whatever may happen.

It is what I long for.

Yet, here I am.

Needing to pee.

I know, however, that I am not the only one unable to take advantage of this time. A few of those in need of a rest the most, have yet to take it. After Dad returned to the tent unscathed, and after we rearranged the cots and effectively destroyed the fort, I dressed fully to check in with the girls and greet the pack as they returned. Only, not all of them did. All around me, tears rolled down russet skin. Those that did not cry were serious, but relief dominated their features. My heart sank into my stomach and an ache developed in my abdomen. I did not see Paul.

I stood in a crowd of reuniting lovers and was invisible. My thoughts were hazy and incoherent. Words seemed unable to form in my mind. I just stood there. Feeling... something. Thinking about it now, the emotions were distant and unidentifiable.

Then, Sam broke my reverie with with a brief explanation of where the remaining pack members were. A feeling I do remember is my embarrassment upon realizing that there were other young men that had not returned and I had not even noticed. The shapeshifters that remained on patrol were all without imprints and I became aware of their mothers' presence as the older women listened intently to Sam's words. They wrung their hands and inqiured about their children's safety. Sue was among them.

"The shifts will be different today." He had said. Due to the entire pack up all night, and with the increased need for patrol, the shifts would be shorter. They devised a temporary schedule of shorter shifts that allowed the pack to rotate out for sleep. In an effort of fairness, the men who were still out running would end up having more consectutive time to rest. Paul was left as the lead. I doubt he was happy about it.

Sam also announced that a decision regarding the camps future had yet to be made. There will be a meeting tomorrow, and after Jacob will address the tribe with the verdict. I wondered why Jacob had not come to the tribe himself to explain everything. Or why he allowed Paul to act as lead when he was the Alpha. I pushed my annoyance from my mind and attempted sympathy. He was most likely with Nessie and the Cullen's. He too wanted to see his loved one.

I had thought of Paul running, pushing himself to continue moving while weighed down with exhaustion. I am sure he grumbled his complaints, but performed his duties as commanded. He would have to fight harder than the rest to stay alert, as he took his responsibility over those he led very seriously. I knew he would not allow himself to slack off and risk the other Wolves lives. Following the news, I collapsed into my cot eager for sleep and dreams of better times.

Unfortunately, here I am, awake. I cave in to my bodies needs and lift myself from my cacoon. My hands are still stained with blood from my Joining ceremony. Our Joining ceremony. It was less than 24 hours ago, and while the images of the night are so vivid, it feels like a movie. As if I was a spectator and not a participant.

The sun reflecting on the snow causes me to wince as I exit the tent. There is not a cloud in the sky. The toilet is unoccupied and I am shortly met with relief. Squinting up, the sun streams in through the clear shower curtain. Its rays are slightly distorted by the plastic and my soul settles within me by the sight. I breathe out heavily with my eyes shut and I allow the bright quiet moment last just a little longer. With a methodical easy pace, and closed eyes, I pull up my bottoms. After another long sigh, I step out, only to jerk backward in surprise.

A worn Paul stands a few feet from the latrine. Awkwardly he says, "I heard you sighing." His voice is hoarse. I widen my eyes and he quickly adds, "I wanted to check on you... to make sure you were ok."

I nod and maintain comfortable eye contact. His shoulders are slouched and he seems shorter. This is a striking contrast to how tall he stood only a few hours earlier before the long night began. Though the stains are not as apparent as mine, his bronze skin had a red tint in the places Old Quil had marked him. Caked dirt is present on his body. Finally I speak, "I'm fine."

"Good." Galncing down at the ground, he runs a hand through his hair. Paul looks up at me once more, "Would you..." He seems to think better of himself and does not finish. I wait for a few seconds, hoping he will continue without prompting.

"Would I what?"

His colorless eyes bore into mine, "Will you come back to my tent with me?" All hesitation or nervousness is gone.

My stomach twists and I give a breathy laugh, though I know he is not joking. "What?" I ask increduously. My hands grasp together to fidget, but I fold them in front of me instead. I do not want him to give him any power in this conversation. I hold his intimidating gaze with difficulty. My fingers twitch.

"Will you come back to my tent with me?" His severity remains, but his tone softens slightly. Even more so when he clarifies, "I'm tired." These words echo those he had said just days before and I know he means more than just physically; his entire being radiates weariness. "Would you come back to my tent with me so that I am not alone? Maybe you could pet my hair again?"

My brow furrow and my lips move wordlessly. I am completely taken aback. Standing in front of me is the strong, proud Paul, but at his moment he reminds me of a child. I narrow my eyes. I am skeptical and hesitant, but inclined to accept. I want to comfort him. The Imprint is known to be reciprocated and the supernatural pull lives within me. Due to our limited interactions, I rarely have to resist it. Yet, I have a creeping suspicion that the frequecy of these situations will increase.

Fighting my instinct, I open my mouth to decline. Before I can speak Paul rearranges his face, hiding any signs of weakness. His body straightens slightly and I imagine his joints squeaking. I follow his turned head and see Sarah slowly and awkwardly slip out of the tent.

"Sorry." She mumbles with a grimace. She acts as if she is interupting an intimate moment and I become self conscious. My hands fidget freely as she creeps into the latrine. To relieve tension I shoot Paul a wide eyed playful look. He responds with hard eyes and a sneer.

"What?" I ask again, afraid. Afraid I have upset him, afraid of what he will say; he has quite the ability to cut with his words when he wants to.

His eyes remain angry but his body returns to its defeated slouch. "Forget it." He says. "Just forget all of it."

"But-," I start. He did not even know my answer. Did he? Could he tell?

"I need to sleep." He interjects roughly. He turns leaving me gaping after him. Ugh!

Guilt overcomes me momentarily, but it quickly breeds anger. He's such a cry baby! Hotly, I stomp back into the tent. The warmth causes me to shiver. I had not realized how cold I was. The heat from the firepit draws me near. For what seems like the tenth time today, and the millionth time in the past 6 years, a frustrated sigh forces through my lips. After my initial awkwardness of the imprint, I fell madly in love with him. As I aged, it became awkward again and then irritation and resentment creeped in. That too has faded and now I live in a state of confusion. I do not know what I want or feel, and I do not want to put in the effort to find out.

Though I do not exert myself as much as he does, I still find myself exhausted at the end of the day. More accurately, I feel drained. Sleep is more of a reprieve for my mind than my body. To my shame, I attribute it to an escape from my life. How unfair of me, when so many are no longer alive.

I know he is tired, but I am too.

Sarah comes back in and tells me she is getting ready to go check on the animals. "I don't know if anyone has. They'll need to be fed and milked." I had not even thought of them. The hundreds of helpless creatures that rely on us have been negletted due to our selfishness. She is right. Their bellies are probably empty and their breasts swollen.

"I'll go with you." I do not believe I would be able to go back to sleep anyway. Might as well busy myself.

I added quite a bit more to this one and changed the ending. I'll add a note at the beginning of the next chapter for those who don't read this. Chapter 6 should come soon.