[Edit: 4 Sep 2021]

[Fixed some character inconsistencies and smoothed out the scene, also added minor setting details. Content is mostly the same otherwise.]

My kitchen is crowded. The air - how did I not notice it before - stinks of wet dog and thrums with the pounding of at least nine hearts.

Jacob, Embry, Quil, Jarred, Paul...Rodney?

Sam stands next to Seth, shirtless, leaning over baked vegetables and fresh bread. The sun slanting through the window paints him golden. His body ripples as he looks up at me.

For a moment I cannot breathe.

My eyes are ripped away - "It smells amazing," Dale, the newest pup, mutters and flashes a row of sparkling white teeth. He is barely in puberty.

I twitch, "Lunch is served."

With no hesitation. before I could so much as quiver an eyelash, they are ripping the bread to shreds as it passes between eager hands. Seth shoves our mock china into grabby paws and barely restrains himself from scooping potato salad into it with his fingers.

Appetite gone, I watch them for a moment before turning for the door. Being out in the blazing sun doesn't seem as grueling suddenly.

I rub at my chest as I push through the door. A bubble of acid presses against my lungs, crawling up my throat and teasing the back of my tongue. Of everyone, I thought Seth would get it. He's usually not this dense, even if he is kind of an idiot.

I should know better though, shouldn't I? He's a kid, I tell myself, but that doesn't make it any easier to carry the weight of the hurt. He should know and he should care what it does to me when he brings them around. He was there for the tears and rage, so how could he not know?

At one point seeing a gang of pubescent boys tearing through my kitchen would have been fulfilling. Knowing that I was the one feeding them, making them smell of happiness and rewarding them after a long day of patrols...that would have been my role. It could have been real.

But it's not reality.

I'm linked, by myth or magic, to a man who threw me away without a care. I think, maybe, if the stupid mind link didn't exist it would be easier to bare. Perhaps I could comfort myself, say "he does love you, he does care, but he loves her too." It would have hurt, but I wouldn't have to live with knowing that he doesn't love me - couldn't love me even a fraction of how I love him.

Yet, here I am, stuck. Bitter and falling apart at the edges, burning with betrayal any time Sam gives Seth a comforting hug, or high-fives Jacob, or smiles (sweet, kind, tender, and loving) at Emily's scarred face.

I tell myself I would run if not for Seth. If not for the tribe. If not for my mother, or the bakery, or the stupid patch of lilies out back. If if if-

I could bugger off to another state. Try California perhaps – there are rumours of packs out that way. or go to another continent, because I could never be too far away from this cruel life.

It's hotter outside, much, it feels like being scorched alive, sentenced to Hell. My bare feet slap the ground, heart pounding, twigs and moss beneath me. One leap, two, then into the trees. I'm pulling my top off. My shorts and underwear follow close behind – I'm upset, not stupid.

A fallen tree crosses my path, I jump and when I hit the ground on the other side I landed on four paws, claws digging into compact dirt. I move faster, sleeker, further. The world blurs around me, a mixture of black and white merging into confusing greys. Birds take off from their nests, screeching in protest.

I cannot outrun my problems, but like this the world is sensation rather than feeling. There's wind in my fur and the burn of stretching muscles. Rodents are loud in the underbrush and the sounds of life stretch well beyond a human mind's comprehension.

I run and jump and push my four-legged form until there's salt in my nostrils and the crash of waves in my ears. The trees thin to a rocky ledge and the wide blue sky atop a dancing ocean.

I skid to a stop before the cliff edge. With all four legs planted far apart and my head thrown back, a lamenting howl pierces the air. Here, alone in my head for once, I let go.

I dance across the rocky ledge, tail swishing from side to side, ears pressed back and teeth bared in complaint to the ancestors before me. The birds in the trees retreat to the highest branches, agitated, and the waves down below seem to pick up their own roar in response to mine.

Beneath the sun, with my pelt warm and throat vibrating, I'm whole.

My howl pierces the air, dancing across the sea currents, out past Teahwhit Head's pocked beaches and across the Pacific ocean. It is a cry meant for the distant clouds and depths of the ocean where sunken canoes lie.

Leah...

I freeze. What? the voice is like cool water along the burning refines of my mind. Seth? Did he hear... Of course he did. I trip over my own paws.

We are headed to the Cullens', Jacob wants to see Renesme. Are you coming along?

I stiffen and bare my teeth at the name. Leeches. I want to say no, every molecule says no. However, the idea of leaving this stupid child with those monsters is a fate worse than any other I could imagine. I was less cautious of them once, for Jacob, and Bella almost killed Seth. I snarl at the memory, feel Seth's own shudder at it. It gives me pause. He will go whatever I say, his loyalty to Jacob, his idiotic desire to believe the best of those monsters are worth more to him than my disagreement. In my mind's eye I see the tangled limbs and drained body of a fisherman. To protect him...

Leah, I don't need you to protect me.

Shut up! I make a point to project my annoyance at him, at this life we were forced into.

Bella won't hurt me; last time was an accident.

I said, 'Shut up'. I march in circles, kicking up leaves as my tail swings, snarling at the ground. Fine, I'll go, but only because you need me.

I said-

Seth! I warn.

Geez, calm down, Leah. His grumbling is amplified in my head. We'll be leaving in twenty minutes. Get back and get dressed. You might want to have a shower as well.

Don't want to offend any sensitive blood-drinker's nose? I snipe but he's gone before the last word is thought out in my mind. While I'm aware of how bad the damp fur can smell, it's a matter of principle and reciprocity. It's not like the vampire's smell any better than wet dogs.

I give a wolfish grin. I will wash up, but not the way Seth means. A touch of sea salt and a cleansing bath in the shattering colds of the Pacific seemed to be in order. The change takes all of two seconds and then I'm plunging through the sky, falling - down down down. The wind bites at my skin and when I hit the water it feels like slamming into concrete. The cool, salty water envelops me and sucks me down into the darkness. It's a blissful change from the day's warmth.

How's this for Perfume d'Wolf?

[Re: The Cliff - so the cliff used in the Twilight movies is actually not in La Push? but in Vancouver, which, while cool for Vancouver, is a nightmare for the Me Who Decided To Use The Cliff's Name. The best I can do is say the cliff (not a cliff like in the movie unfortunately- but let's pretend) in my story is Teahwhit Head, between Second and Third Beach in La Push.]