((so, i'll just let you guys know this now, but ML will play a big part in the story but he will NOT be a good guy. so if that bothers any of you guys, you should maybe reconsider reading on. =u=; and i'll be reminding you guys pretty often that things might turn pretty weird and might a little go fast so just be ready for anything I guess ovo; ))

Marceline sat with crossed legs on the soft, green grass; fresh with dew. The babbling brook flowed with fresh water endlessly, cutting the forest in two. At the river's edge, she cupped her hands to take sips of the refreshing drink. After having spoken to Bonnibel that day, she felt the need to wet her dry throat. Although she very much enjoys the company, fatigue often catches up quickly, without having spoken to anybody other than herself in years. (And the very occasional travelers or vendors she'd meet closer to the borderline mountains.)

Visits from Bonnibel had become a more regular routine for her at this point. Every few days she would walk through, with alternating directions and alternating goods in hand. One day she'd be carrying the basket of straw, probably containing a meal of some sort for her brother, and the next, she'd have the piles of wood slunk under her arms in a masculine fashion.

Whether or not Bonnibel had decided to stay for small conversations, Marceline was still happy to see her. And she had even learned to like the feeling of revealing the ears and tail that remained hidden, unless if in Bonnibel's presence.

Staring at her distorted reflection in the running water, she touched the ears still atop her head. She continued to think of aimless thoughts concerning her life and of Bonnibel as they twitched beneath her fingertips.

Then something else crept its way into the reflection. A dark figure loomed from behind. And Marceline was greatly startled. 'Oh God…' she thought to herself, 'Oh, God, please don't be—'

"Well, this is new."

Upon hearing the deep, ominous voice, she turned slowly behind her with fear welling within her heart.

"You shouldn't show off your hybrid form like that. Don't you know that you'll ruin the element of surprise?"

He was older now. Dark black hair, but same pale skin and piercing eyes. He was no longer the scrawny boy Marceline had remembered him to be. The man towering over her had a strong, very much daunting build. He was so familiar, yet completely unfamiliar. And his face even without the reflection of the water still appeared as a distorted mirror image of herself. It was her brother.

"So, you sensed my scent? That's why you've got your tail waggin' out and about, right Marceline?" She was too nervous to answer.

"I'm guessing you're still pretty mad at me if you've gotten to the point of growing fangs. Still doesn't look like you've gotten any further than that though."

Marceline carefully stood up and faced her brother, attempting to look as intimidating as she possibly could. She was hesitant but she still managed to finally speak. "What do you want, Marshall?" Her voice was shaky.

"Oh, so you're scared," he smiled grimly. Marshall was always frighteningly good at reading the mind and sensing emotions, especially fear. "So it probably wasn't me you reacted to." He looked away for a moment and then deeply inhaled.

"Mmmm, what's that sweet, sweet scent you've got lingering around here, Marcy? Got somebody holed up around here you're not telling me about?" Marceline let out a quiet, yet powerful growl. The thought of Marshall hurting Bonnibel in any way worried her.

"No…" she replied with almost clenched teeth while looking down. "I haven't talked to anybody since I ran away so—"

"Liar!" he roared. Marceline flinched.

"Hah, you're way too easy to read, Marceline." His tone changed in a matter of seconds. "I can already make up a scenario just with all the hints you've been handin' out to me. Sounds to me like you're lusting over a lady friend, aren't you?" She became even more irate but remained silent.

"Don't worry. I don't plan on telling anybody, if that even matters to you at all. But I've got to hand it to you, finding such an aromatic girl out here in the middle of the forest is rather impressive. Though, that doesn't mean I'm gonna let you keep that trophy all to yourself." Marceline began to breathe heavily.

"In fact," he added, "it's that very same scent led me to you in the first place. All I had to do was start trailing it and I got more than I bargained for. Potential prey and a reunion with my long lost sister."

She finally snapped. "I swear, if you're that asshole who's been stalking her this entire time, I'll—!"

In a split second, Marshall morphed into his true form. Covered in fur with a bulky form, sharp claws, and darting eyes. A real werewolf (only revealed through intense emotion or years of practice). Before Marceline could even blink, he'd had her lifted off the ground, grabbing her by her shirt. "You'll what?" he growled menacingly. Marceline's heavy breaths had changed from that of rage to that of panic.

He chuckled as he returned to his original state. "You really haven't changed at all." He threw her at the ground with enough force to push her a few feet away. "It's still hard to believe that we're twins. But I guess you've just gotta deal with the mistakes nature makes." Marceline felt tears begin to well from the overwhelming emotions of hate, fear, and the concern for Bonnibel.

Marshall then began to start walking away. "Oh," he continued, "and just to let you know, I've already made up my mind on going after that girl you're interested in. Knowing that you're after her too complicates some things so I'll just find ways to make it more entertaining as we go along. So a few accomplices may also be involved in the process." He smirked at his own anticipation. "Till then, see you around, Marceline~." He aloofly strode away waving goodbye.

All she wanted to do now was pick herself up and charge at him... but she was too weak. Too scared. He was also the same as always. A bully and an apathetic. Always getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. But she wasn't going to let him win this time. Not when she was finally beginning to feel like a regular person again.