It's funny, the way things turn out. That's what she thought to herself, as she strode along the asphalt. No keys, no change to jangle in her pockets, no familiar songs to recite in her head. Nothing but silence and musings usually left behind in favor of.. well, more -important- things. Wrinkling her nose as a freezing swirl of night-breeze whipped up dust and sand from the road, Leonie narrowed her eyes and kept moving, uncaring of her tousled hair. If headlights appeared, she could always take the short hop down to the desert itself. No reason to hitch-hike… not in this sort of place. Besides, that last sign, just outside of Jean, assured her it wasn't too far now.
Vegas. Ugh. There were few places in the country she'd less like to be, honestly. But, that's where the call came from. Utterly pointless to question it. Even if she tried to ignore it; it was a constant, nagging itch, present always behind her thoughts. He was there. -He-. And for all his pig-headed protests, he needed her there, too. She was certain of it.
Sneezing abruptly, she shook her head, physically attempting to shake off the irritation of both breath and thought. Pick up the pace. Taking too long. Setting herself into an easy lope, she focused her ponderings on the distant twinkling lights of the city. Where would he be, by now? In the midst of trouble, no doubt. -One- of them always seemed to be, and things had been remarkably peaceful for her, thus far. Assuming one enjoys a solitary jog through the Nevada desert. Fortunately, she did. Keeping herself in peak condition had become as much habit as necessity, these days.
Of course, being in her wolf form made things that little bit easier. The moonlight glanced across the gleaming, feral amber of her eyes, before electing to leave well alone, returning to the respite of the scudding clouds overhead.
Leonie had only been seventeen, when she was afflicted with her 'condition'. An ironic twist of fate, really. She had practically left town on a float; homecoming queen, head cheerleader, best smile, straight-A student. Headed off to bright-lights, big-city. Reno. The University of Nevada, where she had a scholarship for Veterinary Science. The farewell with her high-school sweetheart had been a tearful affair, but if she was honest… well, they both knew it was coming. She was never going to be content with provincial small-town life. Love him? Of course she did. But he never seemed to have the same ambition and desire to see the world.
A few weeks into her studying - just a few weeks - and she'd been on placement. Patrolling on a nature reserve for a few days. Dull work, but it would earn her some extra credits. Or might have. She never completed the session. Not after the ambulance ride. A wild dog bite, that's what they said. But nobody believed it. She endured the rabies shots, the bloods, the endless tests, because she wasn't given much choice. But she already knew what nobody was willing to tell her. What career could a wolf have, among sheep? And she wasn't just thinking about the actual animals. Humans themselves recoiled from her, now; that deer in the headlights look of confused panic if even a trace of irritation affected her tone.
Oh, she'd found a teacher alright. After the violent end to her academic career. As a 'pup', she had to be taken under wing, taught how to control her temper, her desires. Basically how to become a hollow caricature of the predator she actually was, just in order to survive among the cattle. The literal wolf in sheep's clothing, if you like. And in the end, she had come full circle. Right back to what she had left behind in the beginning.
She hadn't known who she was fighting. Point in fact, she hadn't -cared-. It had been a rough week, and the sounds of a disagreement being settled in time honored fashion from the backroom of the bar was music to her ears. Tossing back her chair in a grate of wood across bare floor, rising smoothly to her feet, Leonie's stride had carried her through the establishment with all the serene savagery one would expect of an Alpha. As it should be; she -was-, after all, due to become the mate of one. Furtive, sidelong and downright fearful glances were stolen her way. She ignored them, senses already prickling for the fight ahead. She'd have to be careful, of course. Prize fighters wouldn't stand -much- chance, drunken brawlers could be dead before they hit the ground. Worth it, though. %r%rReaching the door, having closed the distance surprisingly quickly with her long, rangy gait, she barely paused her momentum as a booted heel rose, kicking just below the handle and flinging it back from the frame. Wife, mother… alpha. She wanted none of it. What she wanted was this. Time to play.
Entering the room, she drew back her upper lip, both in a threat and a savouring taste of the coppery tang of blood in the air. One of the group, the closest, whirled to face her, blue eyes through wayward strands of dirty blonde. Her heart stopped, before thundering back into action once more.
"..Brand?"
continued in Moonlit Prologue…