Second chappie! Did you like the first? Please Rnr!

Disclaimer: We don't own the WOMF series! (womf, sounds funny. hehe) Belongs to Maggie Stiefvater.

BROOKE

I lay on the cold forest floor, warmth soaking into my skin and layering my bones. I tucked my knees weakly to my chest, trying to cover as much of my naked body as possible. My stomach twisted, and a wave of nausea crashed over me for what felt like the thousandth time that day. I groaned and retched; vomit dribbling from my lips into the dirt.

I felt sick and embarrassed and miserable. Although I was alone, I could only imagine what the animals were chattering to each other. Maybe, "Look! It's a stupid human who can't even dress herself!"

Oh, God. Now I was going crazy.

I pushed my palms against the earth and tried to pull myself up off the ground. I collapsed on the first try, and after two more I did so rather ungracefully. I leaned up against a tree for support and wrapped my arms around my torso.

I needed to find shelter and clothes. Right. Now.

But where could I go?

I started randomly walking through the woods, eyes taking in the scenery around me with wary caution. I was at least grateful I wasn't a wolf anymore.

I heard a soft tweet, and looked up to see a bluebird laughing at me.

"Pervert!" I snapped.

It took flight at the sound of my voice, streaking up into the open sky.

And then there were feet.

I inhaled deeply, and caught a trace of human on the wind.

No.

I began running, feeling sicker and more insane with each step. The world flashed by in a blur of a thousand colors, and I shuddered. The heat was no longer comfortable; instead it was like a blanket, coating my flesh thickly so that I couldn't shake it free.

The footsteps increased in speed behind me, and the scent grew closer. I felt tears sting at my eyes and eventually drip down my face; whether it was from the snaps of wind or from my fear and exhaustion I didn't know.

"Wait!" A voice echoed through the forest, and I forced myself to go quicker. The sound was unfamiliar.

I tumbled down, hitting the hard-packed gravel with a thud.

And as I struggled to a standing position, a hand brushed my elbow.

I whirled and punched the figure in the face, fist connecting with its nose. I heard a startled yell and the sound of blood rushing from nostrils. I kicked the figure in the stomach, and it fell back.

I ran again, but tripped once more, scraping my palms on little pebbles that felt as sharp as teeth.

"Crap," the human muttered. "You really know how to get someone mad, don't you?"

From the smells leaping at me I could tell its gender; it was a male. I slipped behind a fat oak, praying he was stupid. Thankfully, I was covered in enough dust, dirt, blood, and mud that I looked like I was wearing at least something.

I pressed my face into my hands, grit burning against my closed lids.

"I'm not going to hurt you." The voice was soft.

I willed myself to become as silent as death gliding through the shadows. A vision popped into my head: a skeletal figure with ice-white bones shrouded by a tattered black cloak, riding the wind on angel's wings that were as inky as the night. Death found a weary man and guided him home, to a place where he didn't feel any more pain. Goosebumps rose on my arms, and I felt a cold shiver rush down my spine. The chills spread through my body, and then my skin twisted.

I was a dark brown wolf again, gray eyes alert and afraid. I peeped out from behind the oak, curiosity overtaking me.

A guy around my age with messy dirty blond hair, fair skin, and-here was the odd part-black eyes gazed at me gently. I jumped in shock at the intensity of his irises and pupils merging, becoming one. His eyes were out of place, and I felt like they were seeing me for who I really was. It made me feel even more scared.

I remained where I was, frozen in place, praying that I wouldn't shift back into a human.

He smiled somewhat nervously, showing surprisingly sharp teeth, slightly crooked, like an animal's.

He took a step towards me, and I let my lips wrinkle back over my jaws in a snarl, showing my fangs. A growl rumbled in my chest and bubbled up in my throat.

He stumbled back, but didn't look frightened. He knelt in front of me. I crouched down low over the earth, scents pressing against my nose; he smelled of paper and wood-smoke and something confusingly familiar: ink, like he spent long hours writing.

I turned on my heel and ran.

That was the day that I met Will Summerstein.

I searched long and hard for a place to stay, finally finding a small burrow in the ground that had been abandoned months ago. I curled up inside, a warm breeze smoothing my fur.

I felt my muscles bunch and tighten as I became human again.

I traced letters in the dirt.

Help Me.

"Oh, God."

My head snapped up.

That darned kid again!

He stared at me in horror. "Are you all right? You're bleeding!"

I looked down mildly, seeing that he was correct. Wet blood oozed from several long cuts over my bare skin, and purple bruises marked my flesh.

I met his eyes.

"Help me," I whispered.

And then the night closed over me.

WILL

She was a broken figure, looking sick and pale and dead.

I moved to help her, but a bark stopped me cold.

Five wolves stood in the shadows, eyes glittering. They prowled forward, teeth flashing in the moonlight, claws extended.

They seemed to say, we can assist her. You cannot. She doesn't belong to you.

I watched as they marched forth, bodies bending around hers, pelts brushing at her hands and warming her.

Their noses pressed into her throat, snuffling as if to make sure she was who they thought, like an I.D. I gulped for air, but none came.

Lyrics popped up in my head:

They protect their princess/In her time of loss/I try to help/But only they know the cost/I am worthless now/But I'll find her somehow/In her castle tower/Far, far away.

Her eyes flickered and she snapped awake. She saw me and the wolves, and opened her mouth.

"Go!" she said, her voice growing rougher, becoming a growl.

Somehow she was one of them.

And I was afraid of the princess of the wolves.

A silver wolf stepped forward and lunged at me, stopping short to warn me. I turned to move away, but not before calling, "Who are you?"

I could feel her hesitate.

"Brooke. Brooke Waters. Now leave, and don't come back!"

Ah ha! So Brooke has a POTENTIAL pair! Haha! There's where the romace part from the WOMF series comes into our story! Like it?

Rnr! More cookies from more people who review!

Cheers,

Kylie