A/N: Well, here is a new story that I started, haha. I thought about the idea last night an couldn't help it. Don't worry, I'm still working on the others; there should be some updates in the next day or so.
So, real quick before you read: I heavily used Wolfblood (a British tv show) for this story. In fact, this prologue is a mirror. There might be mention of a few of the characters in passing, but this is after their time and the story characters are all mine.
For those who haven't read some of my work, this is F/F. It is also an Imprint story as I'm so fond of those.
On a slightly different note, this takes place 10 years after BD and my characters are from Canada. I'll do my best to use some Canadian terms but I'm so sorry if I botch it.
Anyway, please review when you're done and let me know if it's interesting.
P.S. I highly recommend the show. The first three seasons were the best but after Rhydian and Maddy both left I stopped watching it.
~Silver~
Wolfblood
Prologue
It's a quiet night, all things considered, and the young boy inside is lulled into boredom as he flips absently through various channels. He likes full moon nights.
It's the only time he can do whatever he wants, eat whatever he wants, and no one is there to tell him what to do. He stuffs another handful of cheesy puffs into his mouth, three family sizes bags flattened out and empty beside him. He would normally never get away with this.
A crash suddenly sounds from outside, making the boy pause in his munching. There is another sound, like flimsy metal clattering to the ground, and the boy hastily wipes his orange powdered hands down his shirt and climbs to his feet.
The television continues to cast sporadic light over the living area and the patter of light rain creates a white noise to the clanking.
He quickly makes his way outside, rounding the side of the house, and squints into the darkness. Another noise draws his attention to the trash bins, and he becomes cautious as yellow eyes glow out of the rain at him.
The she-wolf growls lowly as the young boy creeps forward, hands held out at his sides. He scowls at the wolf.
"What do you think you're doing out here?" he hisses. "Get back inside!"
The wolf fully turns her back on the bins, squaring up on the boy and crouching low to the ground, hair bristling.
"Go on!" he shouts, suddenly rushing the wolf. It scrambled backwards, towards the open cellar doors by the house.
When the wolf makes to dart past the boy, he jumps in the way, growling, and the wolf skitters away again. He backs the wolf up all the way to the edge of the cellar.
When the wolf makes one more attempt to dart past, the boy kicks it twice; once in the head to stop it, and once in the side to send it careening into the hole in the ground. Then the boy slams the cellar doors shut and shoves an old rake through the handles to hold it there.
He sighs before trudging through the rain to go back into the house, pulling off his wet shoes as he makes his way back to the couch.
His remaining back of cheese puffs still wait for him, and he settles down again for the rest of his boring night.
