“Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear sister,
is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.”

                                                                                                   -William Shakespeare, 1623              

There was a family secret. More than just one actually, seeing as being abandoned by her mother for another family wasn’t enough to ruin Vela’s childhood. Being left alone with her younger sister, Aquila, and their father Corvus in a foreign country, wasn’t an easy task. It required persistence, courage and determination, traits that would be integral for their survival in the long term. In all the years of Vela’s childhood, there would be one moment she would never forget. It was the day her father decided to leave the land they knew so much about, to find his beloved wife, someone he cherished that meant so much to Corvus as he loved his daughters very much and wanted to see them happy. So the three of them packed up their belongings, granted farewell to all they’ve ever known and ventured into the ground beyond- however it turned out that their journey for the search of their mother wasn’t all he hoped for the moment he set foot into the country.

Criminal activity in the streets was the highest it had ever been, vulnerable girls were forced into prostitution rings and boys as young as ten were recruited into illegal drug gangs.

The other family secret, the one that Corvus tried to hide from Vela and Aquila for so long in fear of them feeling betrayed and hurt, was disclosed until one day he sat Vela, the eldest sister down and had a discussion on the matter. Corvus intended to tell her first, to get her reaction on this before revealing it to Aquila. The words “associate”, “wolfpack” and “rivals” was all Vela needed to hear for her to know exactly what he meant. The information was all there. Why did their mother flee so quickly, leaving her beloved husband and children? Vela was certain that her father was hiding something. Maybe he cut ties with their mother as he couldn’t associate with someone that was involving herself in the ‘wrong crowd’. Vela’s mind was cloudy. It was all too confusing, with this being a situation that she didn’t have much knowledge about. Eventually, the father gave in and revealed their mother’s true identity - a ruthless pack member of an underground group in Los Angeles, where wolves from different bloodlines resided.

It was all starting to make sense now. Their mother migrating to America happened so fast, without explanation. Vela was the oldest, just a few years apart from Aquila, and she figured out that one of their mother’s many big plans were to introduce Vela and Aquila to the La Cosa Nostra so they too could be trained to survive, kill and most of all, prosper. Prosper not only in the financial aspect, but to be able to climb up the ranks of the The Honoured Society and to fulfil the wishes that her bloodline would have wanted. But there was a conflict in the family, Corvus heavily opposed the idea of letting his daughters be taken in to a pack of ‘rats’ as he called it. Making useless assumptions, a carless thing he would often do. When Vela explained the veracity of their family to her younger sister- what binded those two sisters together had vanished. The ties they had created since they were little girls were cut loose, and with a click of a tongue, Aquila left...

It had hit like bloody sunday, a bombshell that wore thin on Aquila’s heart. Being told her whole livelihood was a scam, a lie- it caused her heart to ache. There was no way she’d do it, follow her father into the depths of hell when such a perfect modern life was paved in front of her! The black haired teen didn’t understand how her elder sister could accept their bloodline, she couldn’t understand how the cruel violence didn’t affect the eldest, who had raised Aquila and brought her up to be who she is today, in the slightest- it sickened her. As ties wore thin Aquila found herself in a bar, underage and drinking away her sorrows- and that was where she found him. Tall, dark, handsome, and fresh out of the army. He was nothing like the life waiting for Aquila back home.

As soon as she could Aquila packed her bags and fled, leaving behind her sister and Corvus for a better life of white picket fences and being a wonderful housewife- something safe, something secure. She tried multiple times to reach out to her mother, Carina, to try and find her, begging for an explanation, for some way for her father’s documentation to be false, but it was to no avail. Aquila was on her own sleeping in the raggedy basement of some fellas house with nobody but him to rely on. She was completely distraught, and as such found comfort in her new boyfriend Marco, and his bed… And then, one night of venting and drinks led to a ring. Determined to finally shed the family name and all ties, and completely unaware of the shitstorm Aquila got herself into, she married Marco that summer, away from her family, her past, and the concept of skinwalkers that haunted her simple-minded dreams.

But, dreams really are just dreams, which Aquila came to realize a few months into the marriage. She still slept in Marco’s basement, under the grotty blanket against a ripped and mouldy futon-bed, but it didn’t faze her, her love for Marco was both relentless and apparently fleeting. She first discovered him and her old family had more alike than she thought, for one Marco was in one of those huge street gangs, which she found out when he introduced her to one of his friends and allowed him to spill the beans, and, needless to say, Aquila was beyond dumbfounded- and then, low-and-behold, her wolf side became more persistent. Perhaps it was the anger for Marco keeping such an ill secret or it was Aquila coming to terms with how badly she fucked up in throwing all of her life away but she let it take over. And she hurt Marco.

Vela didn’t have much recollection of her childhood being a ‘jolly’ one, but if there was one memory that she kept engraved in the back of her mind, it would be the tight bond she had with her sister. Through thick and thin, they were supposed to be each others ride or die. So of course, when Vela discovered that her sister had run away from home and sought solace in a man she knew would harm Aquila, she was distraught. In other words, Vela went fucking hysterical and went on a mad rage to find her, making sure she had searched all of the places in the area, asking people if they maybe had seen a young girl roaming around. No luck. Although it wasn’t until two weeks later when Vela got sent a telegram back, in which contained information about her mother. Vela was shocked, confused and mad. Her sister had ran away, now her mother emerges from the darkness of the past- asking to meet up. Though Vela still desperately needed to look for her sister, the offer to meet her birth mother could be the last chance she had to see her, so she pulled up at a well-known cafe near the place she was staying at to link up.

Her first meeting with her mother went swell. She was beautiful, the first thing that Vela thought when she approached her. Her birth mother being a werewolf was hard to understand, but she talked to Vela about getting to know all the members and being indoctrinated into a fast changing lifestyle. The mother was taught many concepts and rules, one of them being not to attack fire with fire, but also to not get on her alpha’s bad side. It had sounded condescending to Vela, but really, it would be ill-advised to go rogue on him. The mother told her about that one time when a message was sent out from an ally that one of their beta wolves betrayed them when he brutally ripped his mate to shreds. Carina was there when her alpha leader was notified. His eyes flickered with so much anger that Carina thought his veins would pop out of his neck, and she even had to look down at the ground to avoid his look. He made sure that the rogue didn’t leave without consequences as five hours later, he was found bathing his animal fur in the nearby forest lake. This was his chance. The next morning, there was nothing left but a tattered shirt and a bloody trail.

The conversation had taken up most of the day, and Vela was ready to get back on track. Before heading out the cafe door, the mother stopped her. She stood in front of her, biting her lip when she suddenly replied through earnest eyes. The mother was gone for so long throughout their childhood and she at least owed her daughters an explanation. She gently gripped Vela’s elbow. “And please. Go find Ely. He’s your best bet. You deserve to know your true identity.” Vela left quickly, nodding as she walked away but still unsure of what she was getting herself into.

While on her search, Vela found herself in unmarked territory, where there was no other way to go but through. “Surrender now or else taste my wrath, little girl.” A man hissed at her through deep-set, lifeless eyes. His monotone voice did little effort to frighten her, and she replied back in ill humour. “Excuse me? Little? Whats little is the chance of you surviving right now, so back off and make way I can pass through your district.” This was an emergency, and Vela had no time to play these silly little games. The man was a quite taken aback, who Vela guessed must have not been in contact much with females that knew how to fight back when the time came. He continued to stare at her through those expressionless eyes and Vela suddenly found his hands cuffing her neck a little too harshly. His heinous self then loomed closer to her face and Vela was confused when he frowned. The man let out a deep sigh, lowered his head, then let go of her begrudgingly. There was a moment of dreadful silence, until he spoke the words Vela never thought he would utter.

“My wife warned me you’d come.”

Vela seemed utterly confused, and so Marco took it upon himself to reiterate, raking a hand through his hair and dejectedly glancing around the room. He seemed to be deep in thought, and his silence was mimicked throughout the room by all his subordinates. Perhaps the silence was too much for Vela to handle, as she spoke with dependant urgency towards her ex captor asking for him to make it apparent what he was talking about.

“...She looks just like you, y’know?”

He motioned towards the men around her to back off, and guided her to stand, his eyes narrowing as if he’d come up with some peculiar decision. He needed allies, he needed somebody to take the fall- a bloodbag. By using his wife, Aquila, he could get that out of this strange woman. It was as if a switch had snapped in Vera, as if she just realized what the man, Marco, had been talking about. Before she could get too loud and rowdy he swept his hair from his forehead with a click of his tongue, then after a few moments gestured for the girl to follow, leading her to his busted up car and possibly making one of the worst decisions of his life. Marco alerted his men to stay back in the ally and watch for people following him- he had done this to attempt to gain some semblance of trust within Vela. And, in a last ditch attempt to do this he tried to quell Vela’s thoughts finally by bringing her up- Aquila.

“Shut the fuck up, girlie, you’ll see your sister soon. You should be bloody thankful i’m doin’ this, she hates your damn guts.”

It was a simple twenty minute drive to the broken down home, one that mirrored a suburban dream amidst rotten decay with graffitied brown fences and deceased flowers lining the stones. The car slammed to a stop and Vela was escorted out of the vehicle. Marco knew his girl wouldn’t want to see Vela, and he knew that this would hurt her even more than he did after he saw what a disgrace should was, after he dared defile her. There was no way she’d regret them getting married after this, no way she’d speak out against the living conditions- the cuts on her legs or the burns on her back, no, she’d love him with no question, and despise her past like she used to, following along like a good housewife and keeping quiet or else she’d spill her little secret to the whole neighbourhood.

Like a good wife should.

Vela was led into the kitchen, which was littered in rust, mould and a strange smell tinted the air. Marco stood down the hall by a trap door in the floor, bellowing out Aquila’s name with a demanding tone. Her head came poking out of the floorboard, followed by a hesitant black haired girl who represented the picture perfect housewife- neat, tidy, trimmed… And littered with scars and welts. Marco bent down to pull her into a hug, his arms capturing her in a tight embrace as his fine facial hair tickled her cheek. The girl let out what sounded like a forced giggle, as if to please him, as he pressed a noisy kiss to her cheek. The man peeked one eye open to glance back as Vela, a dangerous smirk present  on his face, before he grasped Aquila’s shoulder and guided her around to face Vela.

It was after Aquila met the girls deep eyes did her face contort into what could only be disguised as distressed, petrified… and… helpless. Tears welled up in the girls eyes, and her gaze ventured over to Marco, almost in disbelief. The man nudged her forward, and when Aquila resisted, she was ultimately shoved so she’d stand closer to the sister she hadn’t seen in so long. Her face was trained with immense guilt, but overall she seemed almost disgusted by seeing Vela here, perhaps even angry that she’d try to disrupt her perfect housewife life, of being a good girl. So, Aquila stared at Vela, her voice escaping in a mere whisper full of hurt as she uttered her darling sister’s nickname that once held so much meaning.

“...V…”

Maybe it was the devilish smirk that her sisters husband gave to her, or the way he handled Aquila, like he had completely ignored a package of precious contents labeled ‘FRAGILE. HANDLE WITH CARE’ that infuriated Vela. She didn’t need to say another word as Vela could see the look of terror on her sisters face when he placed a distasteful peck on her cheek. It was obvious that Aquila manifested signs of deprivation, even her well-trimmed hair and lavish clothes couldn’t hide the disaster that she thrusted herself into. Vela had contemplated what she would say to her moments ago on the way here, if she did ever get the chance to see her. However, now that she’s standing in front of her, teary eyed and weary, Vela couldn’t bring herself to say something. She was more concerned with what the man had been doing to her for the past few months, as she noticed a faint cut that settled across her deadly pale cheek.

Vela sensed that her sister was overwhelmed, diffident and out-of-touch with what was actually on her case. She wanted to scream at her right then and there, for being so incredibly blind to the false hope and empty promises that were presented to her by this… seemingly awful and mentally abusive man. Vela’s heart broke, seeing her sister like that. Like she was put under a spell or something. Drugged, pulled by the hair, whatever sick thing he must have done to her during the times Vela wasn’t there to protect her. Her eyes penetrated into the man that stood behind Aquila, and she looked lovingly into her sisters eyes for a quick second even if she was being stubbornly disobedient, then focused her attention back to him.

“I’m going to give you the next hour to make a decision. Either you hand my sister safely back over to me...” Vela tightened her jaw as she tried to hold herself back from punching him in the face.

“... or I can file you to the nearest police station for domestic violence inflicted on my sister.”

Vela avoided her sister’s hard stare. She could only imagine how antagonistic she must have felt towards her in that moment, but Vela was presented with a matter of life and death. She would do anything to distance her sister away from him, even if it meant that Aquila would hate her forever.

If a pin dropped Aquila was damn sure the whole room would hear it. There was not a twitch from a body in the room, nor a misplaced breath. The weight of Vela’s words took their time to fully absorb into the minds of those around Aquila, and then everything was launched into chaos. Aquila fell to the floor in anguish, her feet giving out on her as her mind wrung the thousands of incomprehensible questions flung at her by the simple words introduced into the scene by her sibling. Who the fuck did she think she was barging into HER life and destroying everything SHE had built up?! Who was she to accuse her loving, adoring husband of such a thing as domestic violence, it was like accusing a puppy of manipulation due to flashing their cute and abysmal eyes at the target! It was all Aquila who was at fault for such things, for hurting Marco, for daring to lash out against him… For being such a pitiful being.

Before Aquila could speak out against her sister, could attempt to get up a hand was placed on her back, digging into a scar created the night she learned her place. Aquila let out a soft whimper and bowed her head as her husband dug his finger into the scar, his gaze boring into Vela’s own in an attempt to coerce a sense of intimidation and remind her who is in charge. In Marco’s other hand that was not posed a threat to Vela was a gun, trained on her very being. She was dared to make a move, to try anything.

“Does it look like she wishes to be handed back to such a foul-mouthed whore? Know your goddamn place, she is mine, you hear?”

He relaxes his hand and Aquila lets out a soft sob. The man bends down to rub her back, in an attempt to soothe her. Instinctively Aquila relaxes into his touch and a sigh releases from her lips.

“Now. I brought you here out of the kindness of my goddamn heart so you can see my wife, and this- this is how you repay me?”

He stops, then gently coaxes Aquila to stand. The girl leans into him, her gaze tears into the floor, shame, guilt, terror… comfort… She couldn’t understand it. This was all her fault, she knew already that if she didn’t do anything now Marco might act out, she didn’t want her sister to have to go through such a thing but…

It wasn’t a housewives place to intervene in her husband's duty, was it?

Marco pulled Aquila closer, he looked utterly furious. His face was tinted with the colour of rage, red, and he appeared like he could burst at any moment- perhaps he was holding Aquila too tight, and staring at Vela a bit too violently. Aquila’s shoulders shuddered, she was utterly petrified.

“Get out of my- our fucking house.”

“You’re right. This is your house, and I’m apparently disrupting the peace between you two.” Her expression dulled, followed by a scowl. Vela kept her eyes steady on him, not breaking away while she fought the wolf inside her, trying to silence the howls that erupted beneath her thick skin. She observed the space they were in, knowing that him being alone gave her an advantage that she didn’t have to worry about any of his friends snitching on them. His eyes blazed with pure rage, but it didn’t compare to her disguised animosity. Vela gave him the benefit of the doubt as sadness clouded her features and nodded promptly, before she spun around and headed for the door, not even looking back at her sister once. As Vela travelled to the door, she vocalized her thoughts without remorse. “Don’t come looking for me when you’re abandoned, helpless and rejected.” It stung like a bitch to say, but it was better than to just lash out on her, further provoking the man who would later inflict even more harm on her.

What did the man think of Vela? A next potential victim? She snickered to herself as she reached the footpath outside. Her face was of deep fury as the faint glimmer of hope she held onto quickly faded when Vela walked out of the filthy, degrading and putrid shack her sister called home. Vela pursed her lips and nodded slowly. Out of the blue, her heart rate started to increase rapidly and she clenched her fists hard as her chest rose and fell quickly with the breaths she took to calm herself. What the fuck is happening to me, she thought? She was completely out of control of the situation, like there was another being inside of her, waiting to hunt on the prey.

There was an unspoken agreement that lingered in the air as she felt herself slowly morphing into her animal form. The inner wolf she never knew she had inside her seemed to communicate through barbaric thoughts, telling Vela that he would look better if his features were beat to the core, teeth were pulled out one by one and body was bruised. The sky was starting to turn a dark blue, eery colour that matched her wolves vindictive soul in that moment where soon a blood shedding event would happen any minute. Vela’s wolf form, was alluring in all its ways, but she still had no idea what she was doing. She needed to control her inner wolf, but since she had never been in this situation before, there was no one she could go to for help. Realization then slipped past her mind as she thought back to her mother’s words. “Find Ely…”

Vela wanted to break down in tears, lash out in a fit, but with the remembrance of her conversation with her birth mother, she felt herself coming back to reality. He was the one she would need to find with Aquila, to get answers about.. the wolf that spoke ferociously inside her.

Vela peered through the small panoramic window that displayed itself next to the entrance of the house and she gritted her teeth as she saw a girlish figure next to a suspicious being. She hoped the plan would be carried through correctly as realization dawned upon her face that she might not succeed. With no training and guidance? How..? Next thing she knew, the door knob twisted and there emerged the craven human she had familiarized herself with not too long ago. Her inner wolf took over and there was no more Vela. All boundaries had been pushed past their limit.

She shifted her stance and grounded his jaw into the ground.

Hurt. Hurt was all that consumed Aquila’s weak and malnutritioned body. Not from Marco, who finally let her go and ignored her to flick through documents he had laid out on the dining table, not from the freely bleeding scar that tainted her neat dolly dress with crimson splotches of misery- no. It was hurt of the most despairing kind. Vela threw down a tough blow, but Aquila’s eyes, which glazed over with tears, proved to have taken her words in the wrong manner. Her grotty palm gently moved to barricade her tears from her husband as she cleansed the tear duct, soft sniffles leaving her nostrils. She was undeniably lost, why would Vela say something so awful? Did Vela not realize Aquila was doing… decently… on her own? She had abandoned the life she’d always known, she’d rejected the only family she’d ever known and now she’s stuck being some man’s perfect barbie doll and feeling helpless for the unfathomable web she’d fallen into!

...Wait. Aquila’s eyebrow twitched. Sudden realization weaving itself deep down into her core. Her teary gaze moved up from the floor to meet the back of Marco’s head, a sense of disbelief had found itself stuck in Aquila’s system. Was… Vela talking about her own emotions, and reflecting them through hard-hitting bombshells? Aquila was beyond shocked at this revelation, and within a few moments had nervously moved from her statue-esque position to approach Marco.

“Mar…”

His silhouette twitched at the sudden interjection of Aquila’s voice, and with certain stubbornness only a man of his demeanour could possess he didn’t dare look back to Aquila. Instead, he let his voice carry out the orders, telling her to return to her place. Obviously, Aquila had no business meddling in his affairs but… She had come to the sudden realization of something, she could finally be of help! She wouldn’t be useless!

“I’m hungry, sweetie, make me some fucking sandwiches.”

Aquila however stood her ground, and tenderly grasped the man’s arm. What would it take for her to get through to him? Marco however seemed more focus on studying his documents than his wife’s begging tone.

“Marco, please, it’s about Vela…”

With a sudden groan he shoved Aquila to the side, pushing past her on his way to the door. It seemed he had noticed something through the dirt crusted window that lined its frame. Ignoring his wife, Marco grabbed his gun back from his pocket and flipped off the safety, moving to the door in a cautious manner. He didn’t dare speak. Aquila’s nervousness hit an all time high, why wasn’t he listening, was he ignoring her? If she told him Vela’s words meant she had been planning something, maybe he’d get back from the door, or focus more on planning then harming her to deliver some stupid higher moral ground.

Something about Vela coming here threatened Aquila’s very way of living… Perhaps, for the better? For as long as Aquila had known Vela she’d never wronged her younger sister, never tried to hurt her or touch a hair on her head the wrong way. And… If Aquila knew her sister well enough she knew what was next. Aquila went to warn Marco again however instead of receiving a response he swung his gun backwards with such ferocity it connected with her chest and sent her crashing brutally into the ground, her knee harshly connecting with the wooden floorboards and cutting open a small chunk of skin while her chest stung with an unimaginable ache- and not just from the contact that just ensued… Perhaps it was an ache of the heart?. She let out a howl of pain and clambered backwards, shadowing Marco- the pain made her remember her place, how could she forget?

It was with her cry, her scream, that Marco opened the door. Turning the doorknob with hostility as his men were positioned on standby. He took one step forward, and with a startled cry called out to his men in horror as he was thrown out of his position by a blur of fur and claws. Aquila pushed herself behind the kitchen counter, she didn’t want to hear what was going on, she didn’t want to see it. Something inside her heard the chaos, it was fighting her mind, fighting everything she wanted, everything she thought she knew- she was a housewife, she was living the perfect american dream! She could hear the sounds of limbs tearing, of skin being ripped from muscle- and she could hear her husband, calling out to her.

Her husband! Her husband? The man who hurt her- the man who she hurt? It hurt, Aquila hurt. She couldn’t tear apart pain from reality, her conscious begged for deliverance, for realization. Aquila’s hand moved to cover her wound as she let out a whimper, the pain pushing past any sense of boundary and she remembered… His words, calling her a mutt, a pet, the lashing, the beatings. The blood on her duvet, the thread from her dress that she used to stitch herself up… The furr…

She remembered that she wasn’t this man’s pet.

Aquila pushed herself to stand, behind the kitchen counter. She saw Marco on the floor, his gun held in his hand as he fought against a black wolf, who stood on top of his with ferocious intent. She watched as he saw Aquila stand, and allowed her gaze to meet his as he called out for her to help, to do something. Crimson liquid pooled around his crown, painting his features in a certain pitiful manner that Aquila had never noticed before. The deep set of his eyebrows, the thick hairs under his nose… The vast emptiness in his eyes, that conveyed mere selfish emotions. It all made sense now, cast in a different light. One of a monster. Aquila fought the urge to help her husba- this man. He… He had hurt her, right? He had hurt a girl who just wanted to live her dream, he had taken advantage of her…

Aquila choked out a sob and pulled at her hair, leaning against the counter as she tried not to collapse. She was fighting her urges. Fighting so fucking hard. She didn’t want to help him, he didn’t deserve it! With one distressed cry Aquila met the black wolves eye, and she mouthed three simple words that would forever change her life.

" Please, help me." 

The satisfaction of seeing her mortal enemy being torn apart, limb by limb, soared through her veins. Her claws that dug into his skin was a peculiar sensation, especially because it was like exposing his true colours that were disguised by fraudulent acts. Vela couldn’t help but compare him to a satanic being. There was no sign of goodness in his heart, and for that, he had to pay the consequences. One of those being the sweet release of death from the venom of her bite, which made a slaughterous mess. Her inner wolf was unmerciful during the attack as she didn’t stop to blink an eye while she played out her foul and deliberate acts. It was safe to say that Vela, more so her inner wolf, finally subjected her sisters husband to eternal damnation. A wave of comfort washed over her knowing that her Aqua, her starlet and beloved sister was finally free from the shackles of his unwanted embrace.

Vela was her sister’s keeper- corny, but true. However, even after the inhumane dismembering of his body, there was still some pain that pierced her brave heart. Even if Vela did what she did, she couldn’t replace the time that was spent within that low-ceilinged, dusty and unhygienic basement where Aquila was forced to sleep in. Seeing his horribly swollen face and the purple-black bruises displayed on the upper part area of his chest wasn’t enough for Vela’s bloodthirsty revenge. He’d die real soon, but what sickened her to the core is the despicable trauma that he brought down on Aquila, which could take her years to heal from. His death was almost instantaneous, only having a quick second to look back at the one woman in his life who supported his shameful deeds and the only woman who stuck with him for so long while being physically tormented, before a look of regret glowed in his fear-filled eyes. Pathetic, she thought.

It appeared that her inner wolf had ceased from the battle, and Vela soon found herself colliding back down on the floor, making a thump sound. Vela slowly moved into a sitting position with her knees up, and she rubbed her temples as she shut her eyes tight, trying to gain back her sense of reality. Multiple voices congested her mind. Why did you come here? Why did you destroy the one thing that made her happy? What did you gain from it? Memories of swinging in the treetops while the daytime sun shined against their delicate cheeks suddenly invaded her negative thoughts, a tranquil experience that Vela still hadn’t forgotten even if the good things in their childhood couldn’t beat the chaos that came along with it. It struck Vela that the bond she had with her sister couldn’t compare to anything else in the world, not even a six figure salary or puppies playing in the meadows could match the contentment bestowed on her when hearing her young sister’s uncontrollable giggles.

Vela was aware she hadn’t made eye contact with her sister the whole time since she walked out on her after the quarrel with her husband. Her puffy, tear stained eyes gazed back at Vela’s own, and there was an an awkward tension that filled the air before the simple words of ‘help me’ were called out in a faint whisper. Vela’s eyes widened and she got up quickly as she hurried towards Aquila. Words weren’t enough to soothe the pain Vela thought she must have felt during those frightful times being spent with her useless excuse of a husband, so she did the only thing that she felt was right in that moment. Vela extended her arms out, not needing to say any more and she embraced the tiny figure that stood in front of her, letting her sister’s head be buried in the crook of her neck. For the first time in a long time, Vela let go of herself and released the emotions she had bottled up inside as she let out a heart-rending cry. She tightened her grip around her shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze that signified Vela was here to stay forever.  

“Don’t do that ever again, you hear?” She said through quiet sobs.

From thereon, they would continue to live the legacy of their dear mother as Vela told Aquila about what had happened to her. It took a lot of crying, yelling and moments of denial but at the end of the day, it was the truth. The truth would set them free, which did. For Vela, it hurt like hell to see her sister in an unstable mindset, a dangerous predicament which could result in another situation that involved Aquila running away, but they only had each other now. It would be the both of them against the world, no more running away and especially… no more lies. The morning after the tempestuous attack on Aquila’s good for nothing ex-husband, Vela lead the way for Aquila to follow as she started the search for Ely. His name kept flashing through Vela’s mind, as she remembered that it slipped out of her mother’s lips. Maybe he was the one that could provide some sort of explanation to what happened to Vela, the outburst she experienced from her inner wolf. Surely if Vela’s mother had a wolf background, there were other wolves roaming the free land. That provided a sense of relief for her, that she wasn’t alone. There were others out there.

Out there in the large vicinity, away from the general population was a vast land, which was home to the Skinwalkers. As Vela and Aquila stalked toward the wooden cabin that stood tall against the large pine trees, the girls held each other close, still scarred by the past and wanting to start anew. As Aquila pushed her weak and bruised body closer to her sisters an eerie vibe filled the forest. Vela’s movements were jittery as she inspected the conditions they were in. This place was so isolated, something that Vela wasn’t used to as she had been living in the inner part of Los Angeles for the past few days. Even so, Vela couldn’t deny the breathtaking view of the majestic mountains that one could see when looking out from the foothills of San Gabriel. The time to admire the picnic tables, fire pit and water well placed near the front porch of the cabin was cut short when they noticed a man emerge from the log building’s doors.

…And this is where the story of these two sisters starts.

One man... Then another, and another, and one more. Four men exited and stood on the porch. Then two women. Each one seemed interested in the couple of young girls that walked on to the property. It was a standoff for a while, the girls not wanting to move any closer for fear of what the group might do. The six on the porch stood statuesque, unwavering, unblinking, seeming to wait for something. Twelve cold eyes remained locked on the girls, almost as if their stare held the young ones in place on their own... Which, in fact, they might have. Until the male in the middle of the group finally seemed to take a deep breath and stirred as if he'd rejoined reality.

"Hello ladies... Can I help you?"

As if his words freed the others from some sort of bonds, they all came to life and shuffled about. They still remained and watched, curious at this point, but no longer standing ominously and staring from the porch. However, one could almost feel the intensity coming off the two girls that still held their ground, almost like a prey that knew the moment it ran, it was dead. The smell of fear, no... Anxiety? Yes, that seemed more proper. The smell of anxiety poured from the girls. If you didn't know any better, you'd be certain the hair on the back of their necks stood straight up, much like it did when you -knew- you were being watched.

No answer from the girls made the man who'd spoken seem a bit... interested? Perhaps that was the correct word. Either way, he took a few steps that led him down the stairs and off of the porch.

"Are you lost?"

His nostrils flared as he took in their scent. It was good that he sensed fear, but even better that they hid it's scent well enough. Fear meant they could tell just what he was, or at the very least they could sense they'd wandered into marked territory. Lack of -smelling- their fear, told him they were resolved and on a mission of some sort.

As he closed in on the girls, he could tell that they had been through much. Dirt and blood under their nails... And the blood wasn't too terribly old. Yes, all the scrubbing in the world for Vela and he could -STILL- smell the man on -both- women. Though it was different. One was blood, the other was... His brow lifted as it donned on him, though he said nothing of it. Regardless, he stopped his approach and stared.

From the porch one of the men called out...

"Careful... Yakuza... I know you can smell it."

The man closest to the girls raised a hand and waved it back at the man...

"Yes and no... I don't believe -they- are Yakuza... Their blood however, may have been. We shall see..."

He stared at the girls the whole time he spoke. Crouching, he made himself look much less imposing and finally offered a smile.

"Please. You look exhausted and hungry. The least we can do is allow two wolves to take a nice bath, eat a good meal, and sleep safe under my roof for the night." He pushed himself back up.

"Welcome to my home, Casa de Llywelyn. I'm your host, Elyan... But you can call me El, or Ely. So... Who might you ladies be?"