TWENTY SIX ~WALK WITH ME~

THE WOODS IS DEATHLY QUIET and the breeze is minimal. The air is a bit foggy, giving the entire forest an enchanted ambiance.

Their boots crunch down on the snow, and white sleet is instantly transformed to grey dirt. There is no animal in sight as they trudge on, hands-in-pocket towards more nature.

To a normal person, the cold and silence would send them straight back to the warm interior of the Cabin—or much farther, to the bustling adventures of civilization. But to the two Shifters, there's no other place they'd rather be. Winter is the Air and the Wind, smoky and divine.

"So, are you going to tell me why we're walking around the woods?" Arielle asks, looking to Aaron.

With his silver hair and rugged appearance, he looks so much in his element, she almost moans. At the last minute, she remembers to bite down on her lip.

"You said you have some questions," he replies.

Questions be damned! All she wants is to stare at his fucking silver hair all day. He looks to her, and she falters.

"....Oh yeah...yeah. Questions."

Arielle slowly removes the red strip from her jacket pocket and unfurls it.

"Here," she says, "Wanna tell me why it smells like you?"

Aaron collects it and thumbs the material while she watches calmly. Her calm is instantly heated when he brings the cloth to his nose and inhales. Deeply.

When he opens his eyes, they're aflame. Arielle had never seen them like that before. They always darken. But now his eyes pin her in swirling, turbulent flames.

"No," he says. "It smells like you."

They are walking back to the Cabin when he smiles, for the first time. At her. And Arielle just couldn't help it. The blush crept all over her, to her cheeks. Her ears. She was like a fucking red flag. But she was okay with it. Seeing Aaron Silver smile will do that to you.

She had just told him of the highschool Jock who bled under her. They had been conversing about her past experiences, but at the mention of 'Mr. I can make you feel good', Aaron let it out. A perfect lip-twitching smile.

"...and that's it," she concludes. "My life before werewolves and the best fucking winter of mine."

At her final sentence, he smiles again and she stops walking. He stops also and peers down at her.

"Any more questions?" He asks.

Aaron didn't have anything to do with her father's grave or the red strip.

The mystery of the entire situation was that when she breathed it in, it was his scent that filled her nostrils. But when Aaron did inhale, it was hers'. Arielle was utterly confused. Lacking of anything else to say, she mutters,

"Are you with Phantom?"

His reply is instant.

"No."

"Oh! I just thought, you know..."

Her voice trails off as she spots an abrupt change in his demeanor. His high ponytail loosens as if by unseen hands and silky strands fall to his shoulders. His hair stretches and stands on end like quills of a porcupine.

Slowly, he walks away from her, his movements distorted and she watches transfixed as branch-like extensions spread up his neck.

Arielle moves closer to him.

"Go back to the Cabin, Arielle" he says.

She hesitates.

"Now!" He growls, his voice the deep scratch of pure animal.

Her feet carry her fast across the snow towards the Cabin. She hears the tender ripping of skin and muscle and quickly hides behind a massive Fir.

The crunching of his rearranging bones nearly has her slipping out to check on him but she wills her body to withdraw.

Even her wolf knows. At this state, Aaron Silver is no longer man.