The rest of my evening I decided to just lock myself in my bedroom and ignore my current task. I instead dusted off my desk and my dresser. I dusted off my picture frame but still didn't look to close at it. It hurt not being able to see my family anymore, I didn't even know if some or all have died yet. I pulled all the sheets off of the bed and went to go hung them up outside, I knew it was raining but I never had an actual washer and I can't go in town just yet. I would have to get Quil Sr to bring me groceries and any herbs I needed for the time being. I went into my backyard and found my clothes line still intact, I hung up the bed sheets and was about to head inside when I felt it.

Eyes.

More eyes.

Pauls' eyes.

I groaned inwardly knowing they were his from the heat I felt. I knew he wasn't going to leave, either he was stationed here or he chose to station himself here. I could protect myself.

I went back inside and continued my room. I grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and sat it on the bed. I could sleep with that until my sheet was dust free and dried. I opened my dresser and looked through my clothes, all outdated. All from the 50s-60s. No way in hell could I wear these again, it would be a giveaway. I went to the living room and grab my only suitcase. The clothes in here would have to do for now. I threw all the outdated clothes into the bottom of the closet and put the new ones in my drawer.

I went to the kitchen, I looked at the table where just hours before the new pack sat there. Then I remembered Paul was still in the woods. Watching, protecting. I grinded my teeth and went out on the front porch.

"Come inside you mangy mutt. I need help," I waited until I saw him come through the wood line before going back inside and waiting. Before he stepped through the front door I threw a towel at him, giving him the sign to dry off before he dare step foot in my house. He did so and then came in, sitting in the old wood rocking chair in the corner. I clicked my tongue and heard the coffee machine start, I had no food so that would have to do. Unfortunately food isn't something I can make happen, some rule about making/giving life isn't a thing. Food falls under that.

"You know what happened don't you?" Paul whispered finally. I sighed and went to the kitchen, grabbing to mugs and the coffee pot and bringing it out to the living room for us.

"Yes, Quil Sr told me all the stories and I know they're real. I witnessed imprinting first hand but I never saw my own coming," I handed him a full mug meeting his eyes. He looked ashamed that this happened but there was a glimmer of happiness floating.

"How old are you?" He asked before taking a gulp out of the cup. I know that would burn a human but not him.

"150, I'm not the oldest in my linage so I'm not the strongest but this tribe has always depended on me," I thought about all the people I've helped. All the people I helped healed with my herbs or all the people I eased the pain of.

"My one job here though to help you guys through this battle and then I'll have to leave again. Just like you guys protect your secret, I protect mine. I'm not dying because I stayed somewhere too long," thinking about how last time I was almost killed. How many family members I have lost from witch hunts.

"You're going to leave?" His eyes turned sad but still held some happiness.

"It's either that or I'll probably be killed and I'll tell you this now, I'll help in anyway I can but at the end of the day I'll always protect myself first," I sounded selfish but maybe I was. I loved 150 years and I wasn't about to go down anytime soon. I had more to see. More to do.

"Just because you imprinted on me doesn't mean I'll stay because of it. I don't know you and I can't see my own future to tell me if this will end good or bad. Now, I called you in because I need help from you. Are you willing to help? If not I'll ask one of the others," I took my own mug finally and leaned back on the sofa while he solemnly nodded.