1
by WCLaine
Tags
romance
angst
drama
supernatural
werewolves
folklore
deepsouth
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Prologue
Friday, 8th August
09:23
It was unlike anything any of them had ever seen and they’d been to many places across the globe. The dirt road driveway that was lined with grass flanks and home to oak trees older than the four of them combined. There was a magic in this new experience which stirred something in the occupants of the mover’s van. Moss draped from the intertwined branches of century-old Cypress which had grown wild since its prime as a working estate. The air was hot, muggy, and bugs stuck to their skin even with it being so early. Fragmented light from dawn glimmered over cracked white paint-work through billowing native trees and Kudzu gone mad throughout the property left a lingering feeling nobody could pin to a specific emotion at that moment.
Emerging from the other end of the natural tunnel made from moss and branch, the passengers of the van were faced with intimidating but beautiful antebellum plantation house they’d only seen in pictures. The only reason they were there was down to Dr Wintar’s occupation and as candid as he was with the two women he called his daughters, he was yet to let them in on the reason why they were now stationed at one of the party capitals of the world.
The building itself was brilliant white despite the growth of nature with dark accented window shutters and soaring pillars supporting the second floor and the wrap-around decking that disappeared around the back. Even the top floor which as supposed to be the attic supported ledges cuffed by wrought iron guards. It was unreal, as if they were in a dream, or placed on a movie set.
When Rion was told that they would be moving to Louisiana, of all the places, she immediately thought of wooden shacks and hurricane damage. There was no way she thought she’d be moving into a place like this, and it - of course - had become a subject of much discussion amongst the blonde and her friend - as it always had when a new move was in the cards .
For as long as she could remember, Rion had never stayed in one place for too long. Her father was a doctor of high esteem and had many fancy letters after his name, and because of his insatiable appetite for knowledge, he would take his daughter -daughters- wherever he went - Which happened to be a parallel of ‘Where’s Wally?’ at any given time of year. Most would say that she was lucky that she was able to travel the world; to see obscure places, and meet people of all colours and creeds when many adults didn’t even get that opportunity. Rion would say it was a good thing too, but for a completely different reason.
She’d had problems with adults since the day she was born, which even now, left her with some deep-seated issues that prevented her from investing in other people. According to Rion, if you can’t talk to a person honestly or listen to them off-load their personal problems just as much as telling them your own without anxiety, then there is no point in pretending as you care. If your relationship with someone doesn’t meet those criteria, then by default, they are not important. And by that criteria, she had three people in her life that meant something to her. That meant everything to her. Her dad, her dog, and her only friend, Charlie Bordeaux, who had practically become her adopted sister by was of showing undying loyalty, and telling her to ‘check herself’, without her feeling the need to punch her in the face. Okay, she sometimes wanted to tell the redhead to fuck off but no matter her state of mind, she trusted the Amazonian redhead with not only her life but those she held above her own.
Despite being a year younger, Charlie had taught and continues to teach, Rion many things. It hadn’t been math or science, or anything like that. Charlie was not professor like her father - not yet - but more of a philosopher. Someone who could teach her the game of life, and introduce her to new things, no matter how unbecoming they may seem to the general public. Things that would coax her out of her shell, as it was soon noticed.
The air between them hadn’t always been so clear though. Still, if things hadn’t had gone the way they did all those years back when both women were in their early high school days, then Rion would be a completely different person. Maybe right now, she’d be doped up, or dead by her own hand rather than half-heartedly complaining about itching all over from the tacky Southern air. Maybe Charle would have been beaten to death by a familial hand or left for dead by some small-town loser refused to marry.
Whatever the case of ‘what could be’s’, the pair were thrown into a type of life they’d never know.
Updated: 31 March 2020 - 22:56
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