New Directions
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Driving in a semi daze, not really paying attention to where he's going, Oz winds up at the I-5 on-ramps. Having not really thought this out before making his decision to leave, the time to make one now stood before him. Oz pulled over out of the traffic to give himself time to think.
Sticking around Sunnydale is not really an option. He had to put some distance between himself and the Hellmouth. And Willow. Might as well bag the rest of the school year. He wasn't really into school anyway and he wouldn't be the first musician/dropout in the world. Paying back the loans would be a bitch though.
So where does one go to learn how to control the wolf beast that exists inside you? Last time Oz checked it was not an elective course at UC Sunnydale. The monks in Tibet? Yeah, "Excuse me Mr. Dali Lama, I've got this little problem with hair during the full moon." Oz's best guess at the moment was just to wander around for a while; maybe he'd find some mystic or someone who could point him in the right direction.
Which was the question of the moment. Should he go north or south? I-5 stretched the entire west coast, north all the way up to British Columbia in Canada, and south all the way to Tijuana Mexico. He'd told the Dingo's he was going to try and find them some gigs on the road, but didn't give any specifics. As he pondered this, Oz saw a bird land on the top of the road sign. It was small but it looked like a hawk of some sort, not that he would know the difference. Bird watching had never been on his to-do list.
The bird sat there, looking around. Then directed its gaze right at Oz, and kept it there. The damned thing was staring at him! After a few moments though, it took off and flew north. Taking this as a sign (pun intended) Oz decided to go north. Pulling back onto the road he took the northbound on- ramp and began his journey.
But where north? There were a lot of big towns along the way, but didn't he want to avoid them too? Not if he wanted to eat. Making a living with a guitar was always easier in the city than the boondocks. But then what about his "time of the month". Without his cage, he'd be placing people at risk.
The wilderness would be the best place to spend that time, as far away from people as he could get. A wooded wilderness. It would slow his beast down and provide better access to game animals he knew it sought. Maybe if the wolf was satiated on deer, humans wouldn't be a target. Well he had the better part of a month before he'd have to worry about it again.
Sacramento was the next biggest city north on I-5, but it was mostly surrounded by sparse hills and open land. San Francisco was a short detour west, but having been there before it was a little to "weird" for him. Maybe he wanted to get out of California all together. That meant Oregon or Washington.
Portland was a big city, but that was all he knew about it. He'd lived next to Oregon all his life and was mostly clueless about it. Seattle on the other hand he had heard of. There was a big music scene there, and if he remembered correctly, Seattle's environs were considered a rain forest with lots of "wilderness" still left, despite mans interference. Seattle it is.
Of course it would take a couple days to get there, so he set his sights on Sacramento as the first hop, about a five hour drive. Five hours is a long time to be alone with one's thoughts, especially after the recent drama. While in most dictionaries if you look up the word "stoic" you'll find a picture of Oz, that doesn't mean he's heartless. He just doesn't express he feelings outwardly. He keeps it all nicely bottled up thank you.
At the top of his mind of course was Willow. His beautiful Willow. How could he have betrayed her? There was no doubt in his mind that he loved her, and that she was in no way at fault for what happened. She did nothing to deserve the heartbreak Oz just heaped on her.
He could blame Veruca though. Veruca knew full well he was with Willow, but she purposely went after Oz anyway. Hitting on another girl's guy was so not nice. He wouldn't have blamed Willow if she'd cast some serious type hex on either of them. Of course, Oz already took his pound of flesh out of Veruca. Her neck to be specific. He had no regrets about killing her; after all, she was attempting to kill Willow.
But it takes two to tango as they say, so he of course blamed himself the most. But why? Even the Dingos, not the worlds most sought after band, had encounters with groupies. Girls who thought any guy who could play a guitar was a target for her lust. He'd managed to avoid them. It wasn't hard with most, but some were knock-dead gorgeous, and he'd turned them down too, because he already had the most beautiful girl in the world. Willow.
The more he thought about it, the more it came down to one thing; animal instinct. His wolf calling to Veruca's wolf. There must be some kind of pheromone thing involved, but he had no experience to base it on. He just knew that he was a werewolf, cursed after being bitten by his cousin Jordy. Three days a month, before, during and after the full moon, his wolf-ness comes out to play. And afterwards, he doesn't even remember a thing.
Wanting to get as far as he could, Oz passed through Sacramento and found a truck stop north of the city in a town called Woodland. Determined to save as much of his cash as he could, he'd just sleep in the van. Like a lot of truck stops, this one had showers and such, so that was covered.
After finding a place to park, Oz entered the diner, and took a seat at the counter. Ordering a burger and fries, he began to take in his surroundings. Pick any movie you could think of with a truck stop in it, and the extras could have come from this place. Art imitating reality; or is it the other way around? The occupants were your typical flannel shirt, baseball cap wearing redneck truckers. No tourists that he could see, they probably all went to the slightly more upscale Ho-Jo's down the street.
After the quick tour, his burger arrived and Oz began to eat on autopilot, still contemplating the last few days' events. So he didn't notice the guy at the end of the counter who had apparently finished his meal and got up to leave. At least he didn't notice him until the guy swiped Oz across the back of his head with his elbow. Not hard enough to hurt, but Oz had to grab the counter to keep his seat. Then instead of apologizing, the guy growled at him!
The guy looked to be in his forties, Indian, (Excuse me Oz said to himself; "Native American") and smelled of tobacco and beer. "Sam White Cloud you cut that out and go home!" One of the waitresses behind the counter shouted at him, as he was heading out the door anyway. Oz was still a little too stunned to even say anything, but not because he almost got knocked on his ass. He could have sworn that when the Indian growled, he heard "Leave!" instead.
The waitress, whose tag identified her as Marge, apologized for him. "Sorry about old Sam, he drives the local routes around here and doesn't like tourists in what he thinks is "his" place, though he don't own it. How about a slice of pie, on the house?"
Oz just nodded his head and said thanks, now not sure he heard what he thought he'd heard.
After finishing up and using the facilities, Oz headed back to the parking lot. This time he began scanning the area, half expecting trouble. The sun was down and while he was not expecting Vamps, a pissed off Sam White Cloud might just be waiting around for him. Actually a fight might be good just about now, get his frustrations out. However there were a few cops in the diner at the moment and a night in jail would suck. Best to stay out of trouble.
Making it to his van without an encounter, Oz settled into the back and got out a map of the west coast. The next big landmark on the road north was Eugene Oregon. About an 8-hour drive depending on how fast he went and how many stops he made. Portland was about a 2 hour drive beyond that. He'd make Eugene, have some dinner and then head on to Portland and spend the night there. From Portland it was only maybe another three hours to Seattle.
Even though it was still a little early, Oz was exhausted from the day. Setting his watch to wake him at 6AM in order to get an early start, he fell asleep.
A crescendo of pleasure washed over him. Oz has never felt so good, so alive. He looked down at his mate, having just spent his passion within her. She looks glorious, glowing. Her red hair splayed over the pillow, a smile on her lips. "I love you Willow" he whispers and bent down to kiss her. "Oz, who the fuck is Willow?" The scene changed. It's no longer Willow beneath him, it's Veruca! Instead of Willow's bedroom, they are on the leaf covered ground of a forest under a star-lit sky.
Oz attempted to get up, but Veruca grabbed him around the neck in a tight embrace. "Willow could never understand you Oz, I can. She could never accept the beast that resides in you; I can because it's in me too. I can show you things Oz, things you could not even dream of. Power can be yours!"
"You're dead, I killed you!" Oz screamed.
"You can't get away from me that easily Oz! No more then you can run away from yourself!"
Now in a panic, Oz broke free of her embrace and backed up to the edge of the clearing. Veruca stood. Naked, she sauntered towards him seductively, displaying herself to him. "This can be yours Oz, any time you wanted". He was momentarily torn between his lust for Veruca and his love for Willow.
But then, Oz sees her begin to transform. He looked up at the moon and sees that it's in its gibbous phase. "So how could she be transforming?" he thought. Looking back at her, Oz realized this is the first time he'd actually seen a werewolf. He was always on the other end and never remembered any of it. So he stared, transfixed.
Her naked body began to sprout fur; her nails grew into claws, teeth into fangs, and her face into a snout. Her body began to grow a little; she became taller and more muscular. Finally something he didn't expect; her ears grew to look more like bat wings then dog ears.
The Veruca-wolf howled in rage. In his human form, naked, Oz knew he couldn't defend himself against her. So he did what any Scooby would do in this situation. Run.
Veruca howled again and gave chase. Seeing a clear path ahead of him, a deer run or something, Oz stuck to the path. Looking back when he could, Oz saw that he was somehow staying ahead of the Veruca werewolf. He felt sure she would be faster then him.
The path ahead twisted and turned. Oz received many cuts and scratches from branches that lined the path. His bare feet began to hurt from running on the rough ground. He heard Veruca howl again, but it seemed more distant, and somehow desperate. Looking back, he couldn't see her now. Not trusting his luck, he continued running.
After a few minutes, he saw an orange glow up ahead. Slowing, he could see a clearing before him, with a fire burning in the center. A man sat cross- legged on the ground before the fire. Next to him sat a wolf with reddish fur. Atop a tall tree stump with numerous carvings, perched a hawk. The same one from this morning! All three turned to regard him as he entered the clearing.
The man, still looking at Oz, but apparently speaking to the wolf and hawk said "I told you he was Wyrm tainted. We should kill him now and be done with it."
"True", replied the wolf. "I can smell the Black Spiral bitch upon him, as well as the faint smell of leeches." Oz was confused. Not by the statement, but by how he could understand it! The wolf was not speaking English, it was yipping and growing!
The man stood and faced Oz. He was dressed in deerskins and had feathers tied in his hair. A long knife hung from his belt, and a number of bones and claws were strung around his neck. Oz finally recognized him. The Indian from the truck stop, Sam somebody or other.
"As I said, Wyrm scum." Sam reached for his knife and Oz set himself into a defensive posture.
"Stay your hand Killer of Elk. While I too sense the taint, I believe it's on the surface, and not embedded in his spirit." Even more strangely, this was from the hawk. Oz felt he was hearing this in his mind. "We have rites which will clean this taint. One can not stand in the dark for so long that they cannot still be brought back into the light. The pup has not danced on the Black Spiral yet. In any case" continued the hawk, "his journey does not end here. Another Sept will deal with him."
Oz was now growing tired of being talked around as if he weren't there. "Who the hell are you people?" he asked Sam angrily.
"Never you mind pup. Just make sure you're gone from here in the morning. After that, your life is forfeit." Turning, Sam left the clearing. The wolf got up and followed.
Oz, confusion evident on his face, stood there not knowing what to do. Only he and the hawk remained. "Stay on the course you've set for yourself Daniel. It will lead you into the light of Luna and the grace of Gaia. Pick your friends wisely, they will determine your future, and know that those who loved you, still do." With that, the bird of prey rose and flew off into the night.
Noticing that he was now shivering, Oz was reminded of his nakedness. Snatching a blanket from the ground next to where Sam was sitting, Oz wrapped it around himself. Not knowing where he is, or how to get back to where he was, Oz sat down in front of the fire. He leaned up against the hawk's tree stump. Still trying to reconcile what just happened, he nodded off to sleep.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Oz woke to the sound of his watch's alarm. In his van, in the cloths he fell asleep in. "Crap. It was all just a dream?" Oz said aloud.
It seemed so real to him. And despite the sleep he got, he still felt exhausted. He'd heard of the vivid dreams that Buffy would have on occasion, Slayer dreams they called them. May this was like one of them? Who knows? The specifics of the dream were already beginning to fade.
Putting on the rest of his cloths, Oz wandered over to the main building of the truck stop to make use of its facilities. Refreshed, he got some coffee and donuts to go, and headed back onto the road.
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TBC - The Bluest Skies You've Ever Seen
(Okay, which one of you geezers knows the reference?)
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Driving in a semi daze, not really paying attention to where he's going, Oz winds up at the I-5 on-ramps. Having not really thought this out before making his decision to leave, the time to make one now stood before him. Oz pulled over out of the traffic to give himself time to think.
Sticking around Sunnydale is not really an option. He had to put some distance between himself and the Hellmouth. And Willow. Might as well bag the rest of the school year. He wasn't really into school anyway and he wouldn't be the first musician/dropout in the world. Paying back the loans would be a bitch though.
So where does one go to learn how to control the wolf beast that exists inside you? Last time Oz checked it was not an elective course at UC Sunnydale. The monks in Tibet? Yeah, "Excuse me Mr. Dali Lama, I've got this little problem with hair during the full moon." Oz's best guess at the moment was just to wander around for a while; maybe he'd find some mystic or someone who could point him in the right direction.
Which was the question of the moment. Should he go north or south? I-5 stretched the entire west coast, north all the way up to British Columbia in Canada, and south all the way to Tijuana Mexico. He'd told the Dingo's he was going to try and find them some gigs on the road, but didn't give any specifics. As he pondered this, Oz saw a bird land on the top of the road sign. It was small but it looked like a hawk of some sort, not that he would know the difference. Bird watching had never been on his to-do list.
The bird sat there, looking around. Then directed its gaze right at Oz, and kept it there. The damned thing was staring at him! After a few moments though, it took off and flew north. Taking this as a sign (pun intended) Oz decided to go north. Pulling back onto the road he took the northbound on- ramp and began his journey.
But where north? There were a lot of big towns along the way, but didn't he want to avoid them too? Not if he wanted to eat. Making a living with a guitar was always easier in the city than the boondocks. But then what about his "time of the month". Without his cage, he'd be placing people at risk.
The wilderness would be the best place to spend that time, as far away from people as he could get. A wooded wilderness. It would slow his beast down and provide better access to game animals he knew it sought. Maybe if the wolf was satiated on deer, humans wouldn't be a target. Well he had the better part of a month before he'd have to worry about it again.
Sacramento was the next biggest city north on I-5, but it was mostly surrounded by sparse hills and open land. San Francisco was a short detour west, but having been there before it was a little to "weird" for him. Maybe he wanted to get out of California all together. That meant Oregon or Washington.
Portland was a big city, but that was all he knew about it. He'd lived next to Oregon all his life and was mostly clueless about it. Seattle on the other hand he had heard of. There was a big music scene there, and if he remembered correctly, Seattle's environs were considered a rain forest with lots of "wilderness" still left, despite mans interference. Seattle it is.
Of course it would take a couple days to get there, so he set his sights on Sacramento as the first hop, about a five hour drive. Five hours is a long time to be alone with one's thoughts, especially after the recent drama. While in most dictionaries if you look up the word "stoic" you'll find a picture of Oz, that doesn't mean he's heartless. He just doesn't express he feelings outwardly. He keeps it all nicely bottled up thank you.
At the top of his mind of course was Willow. His beautiful Willow. How could he have betrayed her? There was no doubt in his mind that he loved her, and that she was in no way at fault for what happened. She did nothing to deserve the heartbreak Oz just heaped on her.
He could blame Veruca though. Veruca knew full well he was with Willow, but she purposely went after Oz anyway. Hitting on another girl's guy was so not nice. He wouldn't have blamed Willow if she'd cast some serious type hex on either of them. Of course, Oz already took his pound of flesh out of Veruca. Her neck to be specific. He had no regrets about killing her; after all, she was attempting to kill Willow.
But it takes two to tango as they say, so he of course blamed himself the most. But why? Even the Dingos, not the worlds most sought after band, had encounters with groupies. Girls who thought any guy who could play a guitar was a target for her lust. He'd managed to avoid them. It wasn't hard with most, but some were knock-dead gorgeous, and he'd turned them down too, because he already had the most beautiful girl in the world. Willow.
The more he thought about it, the more it came down to one thing; animal instinct. His wolf calling to Veruca's wolf. There must be some kind of pheromone thing involved, but he had no experience to base it on. He just knew that he was a werewolf, cursed after being bitten by his cousin Jordy. Three days a month, before, during and after the full moon, his wolf-ness comes out to play. And afterwards, he doesn't even remember a thing.
Wanting to get as far as he could, Oz passed through Sacramento and found a truck stop north of the city in a town called Woodland. Determined to save as much of his cash as he could, he'd just sleep in the van. Like a lot of truck stops, this one had showers and such, so that was covered.
After finding a place to park, Oz entered the diner, and took a seat at the counter. Ordering a burger and fries, he began to take in his surroundings. Pick any movie you could think of with a truck stop in it, and the extras could have come from this place. Art imitating reality; or is it the other way around? The occupants were your typical flannel shirt, baseball cap wearing redneck truckers. No tourists that he could see, they probably all went to the slightly more upscale Ho-Jo's down the street.
After the quick tour, his burger arrived and Oz began to eat on autopilot, still contemplating the last few days' events. So he didn't notice the guy at the end of the counter who had apparently finished his meal and got up to leave. At least he didn't notice him until the guy swiped Oz across the back of his head with his elbow. Not hard enough to hurt, but Oz had to grab the counter to keep his seat. Then instead of apologizing, the guy growled at him!
The guy looked to be in his forties, Indian, (Excuse me Oz said to himself; "Native American") and smelled of tobacco and beer. "Sam White Cloud you cut that out and go home!" One of the waitresses behind the counter shouted at him, as he was heading out the door anyway. Oz was still a little too stunned to even say anything, but not because he almost got knocked on his ass. He could have sworn that when the Indian growled, he heard "Leave!" instead.
The waitress, whose tag identified her as Marge, apologized for him. "Sorry about old Sam, he drives the local routes around here and doesn't like tourists in what he thinks is "his" place, though he don't own it. How about a slice of pie, on the house?"
Oz just nodded his head and said thanks, now not sure he heard what he thought he'd heard.
After finishing up and using the facilities, Oz headed back to the parking lot. This time he began scanning the area, half expecting trouble. The sun was down and while he was not expecting Vamps, a pissed off Sam White Cloud might just be waiting around for him. Actually a fight might be good just about now, get his frustrations out. However there were a few cops in the diner at the moment and a night in jail would suck. Best to stay out of trouble.
Making it to his van without an encounter, Oz settled into the back and got out a map of the west coast. The next big landmark on the road north was Eugene Oregon. About an 8-hour drive depending on how fast he went and how many stops he made. Portland was about a 2 hour drive beyond that. He'd make Eugene, have some dinner and then head on to Portland and spend the night there. From Portland it was only maybe another three hours to Seattle.
Even though it was still a little early, Oz was exhausted from the day. Setting his watch to wake him at 6AM in order to get an early start, he fell asleep.
A crescendo of pleasure washed over him. Oz has never felt so good, so alive. He looked down at his mate, having just spent his passion within her. She looks glorious, glowing. Her red hair splayed over the pillow, a smile on her lips. "I love you Willow" he whispers and bent down to kiss her. "Oz, who the fuck is Willow?" The scene changed. It's no longer Willow beneath him, it's Veruca! Instead of Willow's bedroom, they are on the leaf covered ground of a forest under a star-lit sky.
Oz attempted to get up, but Veruca grabbed him around the neck in a tight embrace. "Willow could never understand you Oz, I can. She could never accept the beast that resides in you; I can because it's in me too. I can show you things Oz, things you could not even dream of. Power can be yours!"
"You're dead, I killed you!" Oz screamed.
"You can't get away from me that easily Oz! No more then you can run away from yourself!"
Now in a panic, Oz broke free of her embrace and backed up to the edge of the clearing. Veruca stood. Naked, she sauntered towards him seductively, displaying herself to him. "This can be yours Oz, any time you wanted". He was momentarily torn between his lust for Veruca and his love for Willow.
But then, Oz sees her begin to transform. He looked up at the moon and sees that it's in its gibbous phase. "So how could she be transforming?" he thought. Looking back at her, Oz realized this is the first time he'd actually seen a werewolf. He was always on the other end and never remembered any of it. So he stared, transfixed.
Her naked body began to sprout fur; her nails grew into claws, teeth into fangs, and her face into a snout. Her body began to grow a little; she became taller and more muscular. Finally something he didn't expect; her ears grew to look more like bat wings then dog ears.
The Veruca-wolf howled in rage. In his human form, naked, Oz knew he couldn't defend himself against her. So he did what any Scooby would do in this situation. Run.
Veruca howled again and gave chase. Seeing a clear path ahead of him, a deer run or something, Oz stuck to the path. Looking back when he could, Oz saw that he was somehow staying ahead of the Veruca werewolf. He felt sure she would be faster then him.
The path ahead twisted and turned. Oz received many cuts and scratches from branches that lined the path. His bare feet began to hurt from running on the rough ground. He heard Veruca howl again, but it seemed more distant, and somehow desperate. Looking back, he couldn't see her now. Not trusting his luck, he continued running.
After a few minutes, he saw an orange glow up ahead. Slowing, he could see a clearing before him, with a fire burning in the center. A man sat cross- legged on the ground before the fire. Next to him sat a wolf with reddish fur. Atop a tall tree stump with numerous carvings, perched a hawk. The same one from this morning! All three turned to regard him as he entered the clearing.
The man, still looking at Oz, but apparently speaking to the wolf and hawk said "I told you he was Wyrm tainted. We should kill him now and be done with it."
"True", replied the wolf. "I can smell the Black Spiral bitch upon him, as well as the faint smell of leeches." Oz was confused. Not by the statement, but by how he could understand it! The wolf was not speaking English, it was yipping and growing!
The man stood and faced Oz. He was dressed in deerskins and had feathers tied in his hair. A long knife hung from his belt, and a number of bones and claws were strung around his neck. Oz finally recognized him. The Indian from the truck stop, Sam somebody or other.
"As I said, Wyrm scum." Sam reached for his knife and Oz set himself into a defensive posture.
"Stay your hand Killer of Elk. While I too sense the taint, I believe it's on the surface, and not embedded in his spirit." Even more strangely, this was from the hawk. Oz felt he was hearing this in his mind. "We have rites which will clean this taint. One can not stand in the dark for so long that they cannot still be brought back into the light. The pup has not danced on the Black Spiral yet. In any case" continued the hawk, "his journey does not end here. Another Sept will deal with him."
Oz was now growing tired of being talked around as if he weren't there. "Who the hell are you people?" he asked Sam angrily.
"Never you mind pup. Just make sure you're gone from here in the morning. After that, your life is forfeit." Turning, Sam left the clearing. The wolf got up and followed.
Oz, confusion evident on his face, stood there not knowing what to do. Only he and the hawk remained. "Stay on the course you've set for yourself Daniel. It will lead you into the light of Luna and the grace of Gaia. Pick your friends wisely, they will determine your future, and know that those who loved you, still do." With that, the bird of prey rose and flew off into the night.
Noticing that he was now shivering, Oz was reminded of his nakedness. Snatching a blanket from the ground next to where Sam was sitting, Oz wrapped it around himself. Not knowing where he is, or how to get back to where he was, Oz sat down in front of the fire. He leaned up against the hawk's tree stump. Still trying to reconcile what just happened, he nodded off to sleep.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Oz woke to the sound of his watch's alarm. In his van, in the cloths he fell asleep in. "Crap. It was all just a dream?" Oz said aloud.
It seemed so real to him. And despite the sleep he got, he still felt exhausted. He'd heard of the vivid dreams that Buffy would have on occasion, Slayer dreams they called them. May this was like one of them? Who knows? The specifics of the dream were already beginning to fade.
Putting on the rest of his cloths, Oz wandered over to the main building of the truck stop to make use of its facilities. Refreshed, he got some coffee and donuts to go, and headed back onto the road.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
TBC - The Bluest Skies You've Ever Seen
(Okay, which one of you geezers knows the reference?)