LA PUSH RESERVATION

Brayden tried to grab the vampire's other hand in an attempt to rip her in half when the vampire smacked him in the jaw, knocking him a few feet backwards. The vampire didn't look the slightest bit disheveled as she collected her hand and dashed into the forest. Brayden jumped up, snapping furiously, chasing her into the forest, too angry to think about the stupid line that he was crossing at he chased her. She was laughing, a dainty, melodious laugh, as if she'd just danced with the most handsome prince in all the land. The trees were getting thicker and following the quick as lightning bloodsucker was getting dangerous and lethal. She casually swung around a tree like a little girl would twirl herself around a street pole. The vampire stood about ten yards away from me, and her hand had already reattached itself to her body. He stopped as well, trying to find a semi-clear path to lunge at her. She mimicked his steps with perfect graceful ones of her own. She puckered her lips and laughed, fluffing her black hair before disappearing further into the forest. Brayden howled in agony, angry that he let her go.

Kara winced as the vampire smacked Brayden in the jaw.
Brayden! Don't cross the line. Kara yelled, chasing after them.

Too late. This side of the forest smelled disgustingly of the Cullens and their vampire family. His lip curled back and he cautiously adventured further, the dark-haired vampire's scent still fresh on the trees.

Don't bite her while you're on their land! Kara yelled, pushing her legs harder.

She's not a Cullen. Brayden disagreed. We can do whatever the hell we want!!

Kara gave up, lowering her pace. She slowed to a walk, rolling her golden eyes at Brayden's stubbornness.

How did she heal so fast? Brayden wondered angrily, her scent befuddled between all the others. This is impossible, he decided, picking up tidbits of smells from Forks.

Kara walked slowly past the line. Who knows, Brayden? Kara answered. There's some things about those bloodsuckers I'll never know...

I woke up from my latest sleep, feeling a bit woozy. I needed some action- who cares if I walked to a limp? So I decided to find the rest of the pack. Knowing they'd be with Jacob, I left in a hurry, scribbling a sloppy note to Carlisle and Esme.
I phased easily, and roamed around, calling each of the pack members.
Maybe they were too caught up with Jacob to answer me. Or they weren't in their wolf forms. I sighed heavily, and perched against a fallen mossy log. There was a rustling of leaves, and I quickly jumped, letting a howl escape my lips in warning.

"Calm down." Brianne told the wolf calmly. "I'm just here to see how the boy was." She looked at the wolf's leg, and recognized it as the girl who hurt her leg. "Are you OK, too?" She asked, walking over to the wolf girl slowly.

Sammy wrote:

"Calm down." Brianne told the wolf calmly. "I'm just here to see how the boy was." She looked at the wolf's leg, and recognized it as the girl who hurt her leg. "Are you OK, too?" She asked, walking over to the wolf girl slowly.

I phased back quickly.
"Yeah." I panted, once I was human. "But I'm alright."

Brayden, angry and fuming, used his pocketknife to chip of edges of the stick he had pulled off a nearby driftwood tree. He stared out onto the raging, chilled water as they crashed against the cliff and made the tide rise farther up the sandy beach. Engulfed by the sea, he accidentally clipped his thumb with the pocketknife. He stared at the gash in his finger, blood dripping down and staining the white sand. He applied pressure at the knuckle and crimson beaded on the tip. He rubbed together his thumb and index finger, the silky red sliding between the two. He wiped away the access blood on his jeans and when he looked at his thumb again, it was completely healed. He sighed. The perks of being inhuman.

Brayden is a werewolf.

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clown
would you like to rp with me?
I certainly won't leave you hanging like Nathaniel did.

Bullshit.

>_<

Shannon wrote:

Brayden is a werewolf.

Whatever!
I wasn't thinking
-_-

Brayden crossed the room to sit at the small, wooden kitchen table, spreading the newspaper down on the surface. He sipped his coffee, the tepid bitterness warming his throat as he read. His vision blurred as he stared, not really absorbing anything he was reading. Brayden wasn't interested in anything anymore, everything seeming bland and irrelevant in contrast to all the stuff going on with him right now. Two days after he'd turned 18, he'd phased for the first time while at a bonfire party down on the beach. He was alone in the woods, irked by his just recently ex-girlfriend and he'd exploded with unbelievable fury rushing through his veins and making his heart scurry violently. The voices in his head had tried to calm his antagonistic mind and settle his suddenly brutal actions as he blindly ripped through the woods.

"Baby, you don't mean that," Brayden had assured, coaxing himself more than her. Her name was Aubrey and she was the single most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes on. She was lacking personality and flair, but her stunning smile and flirtatious display of her ample curves made up for the difference. She had her shoulder length blonde hair pinned away from her face so that her bulbous blue eyes were clear and void of insecurity. To hide the fact that his hands were shaking violently, Brayden put his hands on her shoulders and let them slide down her arms, hugging her biceps. Aubrey was like a tiny, fragile pixie next to his ever-growing stature, making her look more defenseless than usual. With a gentle grunt, she pushed him away from her, her eyes liquid malice as she spat the next words at him.
“I’m not your baby!”
He took two staggered steps backwards before the shaking became too intense to resist. Aubrey stared at him with disgust, as if he was a hideous leper nagging in her sanitary house of tranquility. People were staring now, the echo of her sadistic vow ringing like old church bells in his ears. He had no room to be sad, his entire body; every inch of his skin was crawling with undirected anger. He was mad at her for breaking it off so melodramatically and radically. He was mad at himself for letting his temper build a wedge between them, driving her away and him into insanity. His fingernails knuckled against his palms, drawing beads of blood that revolted and pleasured him. The crimson silk seeped between his fingers and her gaze flickered to the abrasion, and then down to her hands.
She used her thumbnail to push back her cuticles, scoffing, “It wouldn’t have worked anyway.” She flicked her snowy white scarf over her shoulder and turned on her heels and walking towards a friend’s car. Brayden, cheeks dark red with fury, turned to the woods and two steps in, his veins imploded and his heart rate took a rash crescendo. He took one gasping breath and he had four legs and dark silvery fur. He panicked, launching himself into the woods before anyone could see what had become of him. He was cursed. He knew it from birth. While his friends stayed at a healthy 6’, he towered above them all, pushing 6’10”. His muscles flexed with inhuman strength as he ran, crashing through the icy cold forest.
Don’t worry, a quiet voice whispered in his head. Everything will be okay.
He slowed his pace, and wanted with all his heart for that to be the predicament.

Brayden’s coffee mug cracked in his massive hands. It sliced open his palms and fingers, henceforth rushing caffeinated beverage over the daily news. He swore and wiped the drink off his jeans before grabbing a roll of paper towels off the counter. Ignoring the distant sting in his hands while he mopped up the coffee, Brayden wondered how his life would’ve turned out if he wasn’t a werewolf. He thought of Aubrey and parties and friends who weren’t half-canine. He started shaking, finding himself punching his way out the door into the forest, finding unknown rage in what could’ve been.

Kara laid silently on the ground, enjoying the scenery. This was her favorite place to come when no one was in their wolf forms, a place to think for once. She stopped licking her paw when she heard the thoughts of another in her mind.

Yo.

Brayden sat on the porch swing, gently rocking and staring out onto the sunset as the multicolored splashes of sun reflected off the water. It emphasized every single wave, every ripple that stretched across the waters. He stared, slowly swinging back and forth repetitively. The swing squeaked as he did so, making it the only sound besides the soft crash of the ocean.

"Dude! You have a beach house?" Kara yelled, running over to Brayden. She always seemed to pop up out of nowhere. () Kara turned toward the ocean, feeling envious of Brayden. This was probably the most beautiful house on the whole La Push Reservation. She ran her tan fingers through her blonde wavy hair, looking at the sun shimmering over the crystal waters.

Brayden hesitated, his t-shirt damp and nearly see through because he'd just been swimming. He shifted uncomfortably in his porch swing as the wet t-shirt clung to his chest muscles.
"Um, yeah," He said slowly, getting up to lean against the rail. "It was my parent's..."

"It's nice..." Kara complimented, looking at it as if she wanted to try and buy it herself. It would be a nice spot away from everyone, with a great view...

"Yeah," Brayden replied, the damp t-shirt feeling uncomfortable as his warm skin rubbed against it. Irked, he yanked off the shirt completely, hanging it over the rail. "It's better on the inside," He said offhandedly, pulling open the screen door and heading inside.