Strange Meetings

What was he doing out here on such a cold day? She scoffed at such behavior, humans with their warm homes should remain within them.

A fool of a man to be wandering in the forest-

She understood embarrassment, and she understood the human concept of exposure.

What did he think when he saw me? Something to freeze him in place with such shock, or did he just linger to look over my body. The idea to return came about suddenly as she had turned back toward the lake later in the night. There was reason she could think of to excuse it, just that her mind and instincts came together in mutual understanding while their body agreed on livid pacing.

Made the play to stop running and turn around, as her brother would have put it, though that was usually about a fight, not simply fleeing from a hiker. Returning was an accomplishment in and of itself, the deep instincts of a wolf wanted to rip free from her and keep running, tail tucked.

When she neared the deer, coyotes were already picking it apart; they ran yelping with their own tucked tails as she approached snapping at one's leg in her frustration. The human scent was still strong, and beside her discarded dinner, she noticed why.

A small pile lightly dusted with frost.

He left his clothes, did he? Marie glanced around the pile for a snare, a trap, a reason for what she found before her as she was transfixed on the clothes. A tight pinch brought her hand to her stomach. Hunger ached in her, but the deer was nothing now, picked apart by the scavengers, not even the remaining bones would be enough. That man is to blame for this. I finally found a decent meal and I abandon it over a human, now I will need to hunt again.

Simple a thought as that was she knew well enough,

I do not have the strength to hunt again, I barely have the strength to remain myself. Marie cursed, taking herself back to a two-legged form as the wolf was too weak to go in such a large body. In this from she'd be freezing soon, with little choice but to put on the clothes he'd left, Marie dove in. His scent clung to the clothes she swam through, it permeated the air around her.

While nothing could possibly fit her frame, it was warmer than the nothing she possessed, she found some comfort in that. Marie silently thanked the random hiker forgiving him for interrupting her early.

She tucked as much of her hair as possible into the knit hat hoping that if there was a human, there must be a town nearby; she could stock up, maybe take a train as far as possible, far from the snow that meant to blanket this valley.

First, maybe I'll rob the one who ruined my meal? Forgiven or not, in the desperation of survival, even to hold on to the shambles of life she currently led Marie was driven forward after his trail.

The house was a brisk walk from the lake, Marie came to a stop, her over grown hair managing to fall from the confines of the hat and over her shoulder when she came to her sudden halt. How did I not notice this place when I passed before it sooner brought the realization on how dulled her senses were from hunger.

It will only get worse. Her thoughts were a cruel snarl of facts.

This is far too close, and I haven't caught any sign of a human presence. She began to worry, a thing she could not afford.

If it is not my senses failing, it may be abandoned.

That would be explanation enough to calm her as she refocused on what she needed to do.

She approached slowly taking in each breath and holding it long as she could, though, besides his scent, she picked up no other.

Strange, still not as strange as his behavior, he should have run off, even if he were the same as a deer frozen in terror; once she had gone she should have done the same without leaving himself half-naked. From the moment she laid eyes on his clothing sitting in the snow, Marie had become curious. A muffled voice within her whispered words she could not hear, but she gathered it's intent, it wished for her to go forward, it advised her that she should see. See if the man lived here, or maybe, if this place had been discarded, she could stay. The promise of shelter, the possibility of food pushed her toward a limit, and now she found her feet moving over a line she rarely crossed.

Curiosity was dangerous.

All those years of caution had done not a thing for anyone others. In fact, her curiosity justified itself by asking what the point was now, when she was already rolling toward a ledge.

The wolf knew, knew she should have left and gone far from there, found some smaller beast to eat and a cave to make home for the winter. Yet here she was, the higher mind leading them into a danger the wolf's instinct would never permit. Walking up onto the porch of a human's den, boldly looking through the kitchen window, and thankfully, she didn't meet any eyes.

Again, her stomach growled.

If he left me clothes, would he mind if I borrowed some food? She corrected herself.

Steal some food.

Marie heard a vehicle rolling down the incline.

The surprise moved her so quickly she slipped, stumbling to run around the buildings corner.

Once concealed, she pressed herself against the wall as headlights cast light upon the houses face, she wished to fall back into the wall itself, but against the power of hopes and dreams, she was still there, poorly hidden.

When the dark of night returned and the machine's growl was silenced, she found herself peering around to watch him get out. Bags of packaged food in hand, mocking her screaming stomach as he made his way to the house. Her body felt light, Marie cursed herself, but she was hungry.

I must eat. If she wished to travel on she needed her full form,

I have no choice but to make a move and take the food or wait, sneak in, and take the food. Then, the final step in this plan, get far from this place fast as I can.

He walked up the steps, nearing the door; Marie inched forward.

They both stopped as he suddenly looked to the ground, he swung his head toward the forest, the very direction she had come from.

Marie paused.

She was sure she had frozen so thoroughly that her heart stopped, skipping a beat or two on its travels into her throat.

I left, fresh footprints in the snow, fresh snow before the front door. With the realization of what he must be looking at, of what she had done and how stupid hunger made her—Well done, Marie! Her instinct blinked awake only to bare its teeth in aggravation and fear, preparing to jump the porch railing, run one final time before dying only slightly beyond the lake and this barely occupied place.

The man looked around.

"Hello?" He questioned the yard and the night air.

"If you're here, you can come out." The curt tone to his voice caused Marie to slink back further. She did not plan to reveal herself standing planted against his house, in his territory, the thought whined. She was motionless, trying to examine every small tick and movement, to discover his intent. She stayed there silently, watching as he set his bags down.

Marie crept back. The wolf wasn't coming out with her current condition; she had no energy to shred into fur, despite her desire. Marie couldn't use her transformation, not now. She had to rely on her small human body for the time being, if he discovers me I will just escape, Marie figured a quick punch to the nose would give her time even if she wasn't the strongest person she knew. Just as she found the confidence to form a plan the wooden porch creaked beneath her feet.

His attention surely snapped in her direction, and her heart began to race.

Luckily her back steps provided her with a better opportunity. Her ankle brushed the first wood step and behind her shoulder she looked up to see the stairs leading to a door above.

She could hear his broad steps toward her as she quickly moved up the steps of his house.

Once to the top her problems returned, she was stuck, he would see her.

The freezing night caried the cloud of her warm breath. As it floated toward the sky she looked up toward the moon, it met her eyes through the missing board meant to be the roof of the stair's small balcony. Marie leaned against the railing, preparing to climb up, however she was sure that the rotting would break beneath her.

There was another option, the door to her right.

When she turned the doorknob, to some great luck that surely wasn't her own, she found it unlocked. She quickly entered with a silence and grace she could only rouse to escape such an anxiety-inducing situation.

There was no light in the house; once deprived of the moons glow, Marie found herself immersed in darkness.

Even my sight means to leave me. She could distinguish the shape of a full-sized bed situated on the far end of the room, beside a small hatch that must have allowed entry to the rest of the house below. Wood creaked beyond the closed door. She heard him as he followed up the stairs. A yelp of manic fear and desperation sent through her a jolt to move. Throwing open a closet, Marie hid in the corner between musty coats and moth chewed boxes.

The room smelt of dust, and surprisingly, it smelt completely void of human scent for a human house.

He opened the door and entered the room, listening to him as he shuffled around, she curled into herself hoping he would not find her.

She pleaded with a goddess she had long knew had die and left them to follow slowly,

Please do not let me be discovered, please allow me to continue a bit longer even if I do not know what it is I am even here for. I wish I knew, why do I still want to eat, to continue, why did you make us long to live. Again, to Marie's foreign luck her pleas seemed answered, he did not open the closet, she went undiscovered, and the door closed as he completed his poor search.

She heard something else, perhaps the sound of metal.

Marie slowly pushed the closet open. It was so warm in the house. As she sat somewhere her feet began to grow heavy, her attention turned to how numb her bare feet were as she brought her warmer hands to cup her black stained toes.

Not once had she been able to lounge, now in the heated house, she felt like she would make the most of her short stay. After only a few breaths she crept out from the closet with as little noise as possible, finding her eyes transfixed on the beautiful thing before her.

Marie grabbed the blanket from its bed bringing it into the small space.

What an extraordinary human she would make. She'd often thought that as all she had to speak to was herself. Such soft things were a rare wonder of the earth to her.

Marie buried herself beneath it.

No, any much further break and I will be lulled to sleep by this warm dream, while this is fine for just a moment but too long of a moment can be dangerous. She focused and began looking through the closet, rifling around.

The moral gray with any wolf was that a human probably has more than you ever will. Therefore, what was it to make off with an oversized pair of jeans or a tattered backpack from a house of this size? It isn't the worst thing you could do to survive.

Marie took it a step farther and only stole in dire straits, like a slow starvation or a hard freeze. She found herself shivering at her thoughts. Finding a camper's backpack, Marie stuffed the blanket inside. As she reasoned to herself that everything she took only existed to collect dust, her eyes fell toward the ground, and she grinned.

A pair of old boots, too big for her, she put them on. Like most things, not ideal but good enough, they would have to do. She then found socks and heavy long-sleeved shirts on a nightstand by the bed—another lucky find. Marie was smiling wildly, the wolf seemed to shake its apprehension. Next, Marie pulled the shirts she'd discovered out of their drawer, and something clattered onto the floor.

She shoved the shirts in her newly claimed backpack before lazily leaning down to pick up what had fallen. In the arch of her body, she noticed the true length of her hair as it reached and curled in its pile on the floor, distracted by her internal insults over its abnormal growth, the gold necklace immediately burnt her fingers. She flinched as the medallion bounced across the ground.

Marie looked down to the freshly forming blisters that had already started to shrink and fade; then she cast her eyes beyond her hand to the gold-plated silver that sat as a leaf-sized threat against her.

In her world, such a small and delicate thing was a symbol of death.

The sun sitting within a larger circle was etched on the smooth gold pendant, and it was so familiar.

No. Marie stepped back. The words were, for once, a balanced mix of both the wolf's growl and the woman's cry. Before fear seized her body, instinct stirred to act causing her to stumble back, tripping to move away from it.

Marie had the bag zipped and over her shoulder. She'd taken enough. Forgetting the food, she had some remnant of life to preserve; even if it would be short-lived in the snow, a town could be close, a trail which he traveled down carrying food, it was a better fate-

Her foot hit something, and she fell forward into the door with a crash.

The hit knocked a sight into her.

Images flashed, a set of pink eyes turned to meet hers.

A vision that came on so quickly and vividly she was standing beside the lake again wondering whether she had escaped that attic without a single memory of it.

A shadow slipped by in the corner of her eye. Marie turned to see a silhouette pass through the trees.

Every instinct whispered for her to flee but no matter where she looked for a clear escape into the woods the shadow would flicker between the trees to block her. As she could not set her eyes on the blur, she could not clearly see what she feared, only adding more to her swelling terror.

Metal meeting metal with ferocity, there was a sound, yet to her so much more than a simple sound, Marie's eyes snapped to focus on the source, the unmistakable echo of a gun.

The world returned.

Hunters. Her mind echoed itself. Is this a hunter's house?

Marie was still in the room, cupping her face and standing upright.

Marie thought of the people she'd lost and the fears she carried. Her heart howled to run, pleading that she should finally go far from this place even if it killed her.

Marie agreed, but all too suddenly, the clarity of that decision became murky. Her mind went blank. She noticed the bag she'd tripped over, a plastic bag full of cans, the groceries he'd left, because he must have known.

Staring down at the food had robbed her of the ability to blink for the moment it took her to internally scream over her misfortune.

She was reeling with thoughts of compulsion, shifting, fleeing. Just before these thoughts could bloom into fruition, the hatch opened behind her.

The snow could pound upon her, encase her body it a great burial mound, and it still could not have frozen the world like that moment.

She met the man again, wearing his clothes, rummaging through his house, stealing his things.

He didn't look surprised, but Marie was. They looked at each other. Marie shifted her eyes. Stealing from a hunter was an amateur way to die. She should have realized all this luck and coincidence was just a trap. Humans hated her. Why would one have ever left clothes?

She clutched the pack to her chest; she began backing away from him as he entered the room. If anything, she hoped with her last bit of faith that the thickly stuffed canvas bag might shed some protection.

It was a dark room; moonlight barely managed its way through the one window sitting in the door behind her. Yet as she neared it and the light filled her eyes, Marie could see everything as clear as day, the room, his face, that necklace. The unknowns inched her back toward the door with each second. The safety of the moon's light was all she had.

There was going to be a gunshot any moment. She knew it. There was only going to be one chance, and as Marie curled her fingers into the bag, readying to throw it into his face, it must have been clear to him.

"Don't be afraid." He spoke slowly. He looked at the open nightstand, his gaze landing on the necklace. His eyes flashed with an expression, but it vanished as they locked on her.

"I mean you no harm." He said, but his voice. It was harsh and far from reassuring. A man with no expression, a cold voice, this man was a hunter, who had baited her, who now said he would not hurt her, the wolf assured her of the danger.

"You followed me back. That's ok. You can take that stuff. It's not mine." He seemed genuine, but the wolf was not ready to trust simple words that were certainly empty. Marie kept her eyes on him. If she had ever imagined a hunter or recalled one she had seen, they would match him, his height, his figure, the color of his eyes, the strong shape of his jaw. They would even have the same glare he set on her. All the while, she could not understand how it was her others feared.

Marie felt the door behind her. She tried to open it, but the knob simply clicked against the lock. Another click, and another, as Marie now realized there was a deadbolt. A word and object that mocked her situation.

He's locked me in? Marie gave no more attention to the door she kept her back firmly pressed against. She was ready to act, she could smash the window, but she couldn't outrace a bullet.

Marie needed to make a choice.

"Are you hungry?" He asked her.

Marie shook her head, but her stomach growled loudly in reply. He smiled, it would be strange for a hunter to smile, she thought. So that had to mean something horrible.

"I'm making dinner if you want some." He continued, but Marie only stared. All of her wanted to accept the offer. Her eyes felt like they might water, and then she tried to justify her wants.

This room had sat empty for some time, abandoned even. He would have already attacked, unless-

"Some people are twisted, Marie."

That's what Cato would say. Instinct was leading her to believe she should jump back out the window if that were what it took, but Marie was torn.

"Who are you? Why did you bother me?" She finally asked.

His widening eyes seemed as if he was caught off guard when she spoke; maybe he was expecting her to flee without a word. Her voice felt foreign. She knew it sounded wrong, soft, small, cracking; she hadn't spoken to anyone in years. It was a hard thing to get right, but he did it fluidly.

"I didn't mean to bother you. I thought I'd look around the woods. I just moved in; I'm getting familiar with the area." Marie watched his movements; she didn't see a gun, nor did a knife shine in the moonlight.

"Since you're in my house, can I ask who you are?" His tone seemed to relax with each word.

It was a reasonable request, one she denied.

"Do you know what that is and what it means?" Instead, she pointed to the necklace. There was only one thing that mattered.

"I do. This belonged to the previous owner." Kyle looked at the medallion before slowly reaching to pick it up.

Marie stood there, and then finally; she knew what to say.

"What's your name?" If he was a hunter-

"My name is Kyle, Kyle Blake." He spoke.

It wasn't a famous name. It wasn't a hunter name she knew. It wasn't the hunter's name she feared. A wishful part of her wanted to believe him, the same foolish part of her that refused to die no matter how much easier it would be to do so. If he's just moved here perhaps he is being honest- No, how many times will I fool myself into believing there are any honest men? Her instinct knew better, and it nagged Marie to put survival first, that's what Cato would have wanted.

She could run at any point, but her curiosity-

"Will be the death of you."

Cato can no longer judge what I do. He is dead just like everyone else, same as I will be in no time at all. Marie would silence her instincts with her stubborn thoughts, and starvation would weaken its arguments.

"I'll leave now," Marie said, dropping the backpack. With a voice, she hated, one that felt dry. It had been a long time since she talked to another person. Her voice was a stranger. It was a raspy whisper.

"If you really don't intent to hurt me, please, unlock the door."

He remained in place for a moment, then moved entirely too fast for her liking. His hand moved to his side as he pulled something from his pocket.

Marie growled; she felt the window against her back flex as she flinched into it. His stone gave way to a raised expression, surprise. She now recognized the metallic sound from earlier. With his hands up in the universal gesture of peace, she saw the keys, and with an expression on his face that left her feeling embarrassed once more, Marie straightened herself.

"I'm really not going to hurt you." He repeated.

Marie was silent, cursing that, once again, her inhuman behavior was on full display. She was scared and hungry. This room now felt like a cage collapsing around her, there was no other sensation than the bottomless pit within her chest and the small bridge she was trying to build across a gorge full of bodies. She stepped aside and looked down, he unlocked the door, which swung open, but before Marie could move around him, he'd picked the backpack off the floor.

"Take it, please." The edge of his tone seemed to know no middle ground between softness and ice. Would a hunter ever have such a pleading tone?

Marie took the bag looking at it, breaking into human houses, and stealing. She could not bring herself to look at him again, around humans, she felt like an animal. Marie laughed at herself. She looked at the necklace again before shutting her eyes and wishing for a different life for what seemed the thousandth time.

There was another growl, but it didn't come from her lips. At first, her stomach wailed, and that caused her irritation alongside the pangs of hunger pain. He stared at her, his hand still resting on the door.

"Listen, you look like you're about to die." He said. His face washed over with some pinched expression, and then his arm was blocking her way.

"And as far as this goes, I need to clean out the whole house."

He spun from her. Marie watched as the necklace flew from his hand, over the stair railing, and out into the night. She watched his back as it filled the doorway then looked away as he turned back.

"I didn't mean to startle you earlier, allow me to fix this and offer you a meal. I'll leave all the doors open if you'd feel more comfortable." He said.

Whatever he was cooking, she could smell it on his clothes, his scent conquered the room, and she could feel the lingering heat of the house radiating from him. This place had been void of people for some time, even her senses in their dulled current state could confirm this truth.

"Are you sure there's enough to share?" Marie decided, humans had always been confusing to her, the way they moved, the way they acted. She should have left, but Marie thought she would have either died in the wild or died in this attic if that was meant to happen.

If there was danger behind his eyes, he hid it well, and Marie wondered, he knows what I am, yet he does not fear me. He knows what the medallion means, yet he discards it easily. He could be a hunter as he has not clearly denied it. He has denied a famous name. Perhaps he is just a knowledgeable human? That would be far rarer a thing to find than a lowly named hunter.

"There is plenty, I swear."

Kyle smiled again, and Marie thought she might have smiled too, or maybe she just felt for a moment happy enough to smile.

Her instinct went wild, and Marie forced it along as she followed him down the hatch toward the kitchen.