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Vertigo (CA - Samantha, Dakota, & Zander)

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The wind howled, the dark clouds seen looming over the mountain. While the bristling leaves spoke of mother nature's rage, the loud warning of the siren now heard from Relnab Bend spoke of man's fear.

The grass was tossed to and fro in the wind. Yellow mixed with green, as the sudden drop in temperature already appeared to have ailed some of the grass. The boy was moving faster now through grass and behind trees, he and Samantha moving closer and closer to the town, but beyond speed, his guard had not let up much. 

The boy watched behind, as Samantha focused on keeping an eye out on the front. Once the town was nearby however, the boy took the lead as they moved slowly towards entering Reknab Bend.

Once on the outskirts of town, the boy stopped, holding up his hand for Samantha to do the same. He eyed the town as he lowered himself in the grass. The siren could be heard louder now.

" The town is on edge," he said. " We must not draw attention to ourselves."

The boy turned back and looked over Samantha briefly. " Where is your coat?" He asked, noticing her bare arms were shaking terribly.

" It got stuck on a bush when we were being chased by the big werewolf…" Samantha replied, her voice small. She tried to rub her arms for warmth, but couldn't stop shivering.

The boy pulled off his dusty brown jacket and wrapped it around her. " Use mine then."

Samantha put her arms in the oversized sleeves and could barely see her fingers on the other end. She wrapped her arms around herself, still shivering. " Thank you," she said.

The boy looked Samantha up and down. " You've got dirt on your knees," he said.

Samantha looked down and saw the brown muddy stains on her pants. She aggressively rubbed them trying to remove the dirt. It improved slightly. She felt the boy brush off something from his coat she now wore. Eventually she felt satisfied with her efforts, and how lighter the brown smears looked and turned back to the boy. He had moved and was now almost behind her.

" Your hair is a mess, when was the last time you brushed it?" He asked.

" I don't know how to brush my hair," she said.

" I told you, you just have to pull the bristles through your hair till it doesn't get stuck anymore." 

" But that hurts," she said.

The boy was silent for a moment. " I have a comb in my pocket, can you get it please," he said, hand extended. 

Samantha poked into his jackets pocket and found a few things; Amongst them, she found a black comb. She handed it to the boy, and soon felt him attempting to brush through her messy blond hair. For his credit, Samantha could feel he was trying to go slow and be gentle, but it still hurt.

" Ouuucchh!" she cried when she felt like her hair was about to be yanked out. The boy stopped, easing up the comb. " Sorry," he said. He tried to be more delicate in deciding how to divide and comb the nasty clump of hair, but Samantha still cried out a few more times before the deed was done.

The boy brushed the comb now with relative ease through Samantha's dull blonde hair. He could tell it had been awhile since she had last washed. After a few more strokes of the comb, he handed it back to Samantha. " An… Elastic band please," he said.

Samantha returned the comb back to its pocket, and retrieved one of the elastic hair bands from her wrist and handed it to the boy. She felt him pulling one side of her hair and then a tug on the other side, until he was further along and she didn't feel any tugs anymore. 

In a moment the boy finished. He looked over Samantha's now braided hair with some relief. " At least you'll look like you've been taken care of, more or less."

He moved in front of Samantha and eyed the town once more. Seeing nothing that felt to warrant concern, the boy began brushing the dirt and mud off of himself, before requesting the comb again. But as hard as he tried to straighten his own hair out, the wind would blow it back. He gave up rather quickly and turned back to the town. Quietly, when the moment was right, the two slipped into Reknab Bend.

Even before the weather pattern shifted, Zander could feel the forboding in the air. There was a part of him that morning that had wanted to just stay in bed and sleep the day away, lest it drag him into something unpleasant. But by the time the sun had fully peeled itself from the horizon, he'd found he wouldn't dare. Nevermind the events that had transpired that previous night, he knew that Mrs. Buttermilk still wouldn't afford his tardiness.

So as he had everyday, he showered, dressed, ate a quick breakfast, and was ready at the front of the shop. He meticulously dusted all of the antiques, swept the floors till they glistened, and scrubbed down the countertops.  There was still a mustiness lingering from the thousands of lifetimes embedded within the antique artifacts.  He entertained himself for a time dissecting each scent one-by-one, and trying to take a guess where the objects had lived before they had come to the antique shop. Then he got a headache, and debated how badly Mrs. Buttermilk would complain if he got some dried lavender to help drown out the smells.

Leaning back in the stool, he glanced outside at the weather.  He seriously doubted they would have any customers today.  The weather had taken a turn... even for Reknab Bend, it had him concerned.  It felt as though the previous storms had just been a warm-up for this one.

No sooner did he think this thought, did an eerie siren resound from outside. He flinched, having not expected it, and once more glanced to the door. Surely no one would complain if the shop closed up for the day...

Samantha stared at the antique shop across the street, carefully leaning against the wall of the alleyway. Her eyes were wide, looking at the man inside.

" ...Who's that?" She fearfully asked the boy, having to speak up because of the siren still going. " Where's Mrs. Buttermilk?"

Right next to Samantha the boy stood, looking through a small spyglass, getting a much better view of their subject. His brows furrowed.

" I don't know," he said. He put the spyglass into his pocket and moved back to the other side of the alleyway, the girl following behind him.

" You stay hidden, I'll find out who he is," the boy said.

Samantha looked worried but nodded. " Okay," she said softly, but the siren drowned her voice out.

The boy carefully looked around the street and sidewalks, and when all seemed void of life besides the winds fury, the two darted into a nearby bush away from prying eyes. The boy looked at Samantha, his face serious.

" Stay here, I'll be back soon," the boy said. He glanced out at the world just above the bushes before turning back to Samantha. " There still might be hunters living in the area. If anyone notices you, go swiftly to-" He was about to say Mrs. Buttermilks place, but realized that wasn't an option right now. " ...Go to the Thatchers home, you should be safe with them."

Samantha could feel her heart start pouding by the idea of being left alone with possible danger lurking. With the siren sounding so loud now that they were in town, it did not help her fears.

" No- Please don't leave me Kota," she begged, tears already glistening in her wide eyes.

" You're safer here, just stay put and you'll be fine," Kota said.

Kota's words offered no comfort. " But what about the hunters?" Samantha asked fearfully.

" The hunters shouldn't even be around here in the middle of town. I only brought them up as a precaution. ...And assuming their heads are on straight, they should be seeking shelter, not werewolves. You will be safe here," Kota explained.

Tears rolled soundlessly on Samantha's cheeks as she tried to be a big girl. " Okay," she said quietly. " But wouldn't I be safer with you? What if the storm rolls in suddenly? Where should I go then?"

Kota's face could visibly be seen growing weary. " I won't be gone that long. Just stay here, and you will be safe. I'll be back soon."

Samantha tried to nod but started to feel like the fear inside her was gunna eat her. She watched Kota move along the bushes and disappear back into the alleyway. She huddled her knees to her chest and tried to think of something other than storms that would swallow her whole and hunters that would pierce her flesh as she waited.

Dakota hadn't taken more than a couple of steps back into the alleyway before the rain started. The pitter patters could be heard from the rooftops of the buildings as it slowly crescendoed.

The asalting rain fell on the boys dark hair and skin, drenching him in a matter of seconds. He stood there looking miserable as he pushed his wet hair out of his eyes. After a moment, he turned and headed back to the bushes where Samantha was.

" Samantha," he called, but highly doubted she heard him over the siren and now the rain pouring down. However, it didn't matter, as she stopped staring at the ground and snapped out of her thoughts almost instantly as him reappeared. He waved his hand for her to come and she moved quickly to him.

" Thank you!" She whispered.

Dakota and Samantha slipped back into alleyway. Dakota paused. He eyed the man in the distant antique shop once more, then turned back to Samantha. She was shivering despite wearing his coat. His brows furrowed. He stood for a moment seemingly paralyzed, his thoughts unable to agree with eachother. Then he reached for Samantha's hand.

"Stay close," he told her.

She grabbed his hand and eagerly nodded.

_________

Ding!

Soon Zander would hear the bell of the front door of the old antique shop opening, as two children appeared out of nowhere, soaking wet. The children entered, the boy holding the girls hand.

" Hi. Do you know where Mrs. Buttermilk is?" the boy asked. " She used to run this shop."

Zander had taken his eyes off the window long enough to fish out the old radio behind the counter. His eyes were narrowed as he turned the knob across universes of static...

The two children entered just at the same moment he heard the emergency broadcast signal.

"--Residents are advised to evacuate to a safe location, until the extent of the collapsed goldmines can be determined. Anticipated rainfall is likely to worsen the issue..."

His focus swam between the two focal points, each demanding equal parts attention, and neither finding any extra to spare.

"She's upstairs," he answered, while still trying to pay mind to the details from the emergency broadcast station, "I usually manage the mornings...."

The state of the children did not miss his attention. The girl looked positively freezing and sodden, with the boy no better than her even if his face seemed more resolved.  Details of the boys scent did not miss him even drenched as he was, but in the present circumstances, it was no more than a footnote.

"Where are your guardians?" he asked, concerned.

Dakota gave Zander very little time to react. Once Mrs. Buttermilk was revealed to be up stairs, Dakota and Samantha headed straight for the stairway, only a passing nod given in Zander's direction and a quick " thank you" from the boys lips.

Dakota let Samantha start up the stairs first. He watched Zander as he began to ascend the steps behind her, his dark intense eyes clearly warning him against following them.

Zander did follow them, not in the least because the space upstairs was intended as a private living residence and he doubted Mrs. Buttermilk would feel kindly to an intrusion of her peace.  Perhaps they were old friends of the family - but having not been informed about feral children that might show up, he was inclined not to operate under that assumption.

"Stop! You can't just go up there. She'll eat little kids like you for breakfast!" Zander snapped, and realized he had no idea how to talk to children.

Dakota stopped right in front of the stairs, blocking them, and turned back to face Zander. Samantha could be seen continuing up the stairs, her wet little frame dripping all over the steps. While her pace was quick at first, she slowed down and grabbed the handrail upon noticing the water left at her feet, but continued nonetheless.

" We are apart of her pack, she's not going to eat us," Dakota said firmly looking at Zander in the eyes. " And who are you exactly?"

Zander glared at the children and sighed - suddenly pleased he'd never been anyone's babysitter.

"Part of her pack, apparently," he said- bemoaning it just the same as he was declaring it, "I haven't heard of you two before. Why are you here?"

Dakota's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but refrained from making any comment on Zanders first statement. He the pointed at the window.

" You can see the storm out there- we came here to seek shelter with the alpha until it passes."

---

Soon Samantha made it to the top of the steps. She hadn't seen this woman that Dakota called alpha in quite a while, and couldn't remember too much about her- but what she did remember suddenly came back to her.

Mrs. Buttermilk wasn't one of those cheerful cute smiling old ladies she'd seen on TV- oh no, there was something terribly fierce and aggressive in this woman.

Samantha stood a moment before she trid to take a deep breath, her little chest rising from the effort, and softly knocked on the door. She exhaled sharply, deflating, as she waited for something probably worse than the big werewolf, no, something worse than death to arrive on the other side of the door.

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