As probably should have been expected, getting everyone ready to go on the trip along the traveler's path took longer than it should. While Khalil had no issues speaking to one of the wiretails, we did have the issue of being the plus-two of a party of six that had its own transportation. We ultimately solved that by riding double on the two strongest wiretails, which naturally belonged to who I'd learned are Corporal Kline and attaché Cassandra. He made it a point to ensure I learned the pronunciation, for whatever reason. With Khalil riding on the back of Kline's saddle and me having to ride the back of Cassandra's–she insisted on the arrangement–we moved out of my village and onto the traveler's path.

The movement and feel of being on the back of such a powerful beast was like the ultimate form of freedom–perhaps soaring as a bird could be the only thing more extraordinary. Cassandra's wiretail effortlessly kept pace with Kline's, and the four others of their party kept pace behind us. The quickness of movement and uncautious ability while traveling made me understand why the Blackham was the tribe closest to genuinely being able to challenge the Aurora tribe.

Should there be another great gathering to choose the tribe who rules the Wilds after Beltaine–when the sun becomes ascendant–the Aurora might have competition. Or at least that's one of the rumors you overhear while trading in different villages and towns. Wilder, like me, don't touch even the basest part of the politics in our land. We get the dirty rumors and gossip that spread when people meet at the local watering hole of some village or town. We're always left to our own devices, and to be honest, that's how most Wilder like it. After all, if we felt differently, we probably would have migrated and tried to join a more formal tribe.

Those thoughts are interrupted when my hands that rest on my slight handhold on the wiretail's saddle are touched lightly. I lean back slightly, catching Cassandra's over-the-shoulder glance. She tilts her head to make it clear that she wants me to lean closer so we can speak without raising our voices. I hesitate, the low feeling in my chest and stomach threatening to grab hold to make me act stupid over Cassandra again.

She recognizes my hesitation and smirks back at me over her shoulder. Shortly after, she turns her head back forward and nudges the wiretail to go faster. We were already going fast, but when Cassandra gave the command, the wiretail truly let loose. We shoot ahead of the paced group like a slingshot, and it's all I can do to hold on to the saddle while being jostled.

"Better hold on to me, loverboy." Cassandra's voice drifts back with a little bit of laughter.

Because the wiretail doesn't have to pick its way through a forest or leap over fallen logs along the traveler's path, the speed it reaches is absolutely terrifying. Shrubs slap at my arms as we pass too close to either side, and I try to duck from any light branches that look like they might be sticking further into the pathway. We tear along the path, and the majesty of the beast we're riding truly comes into complete focus.

"We've left everyone behind!" My voice sounds more alarmed than I actually am, likely because of adrenaline pumping through me. This is amazing to me. Too late, I realize I shouldn't have said anything about leaving the others behind because only a few moments after saying as much, Cassandra allows the wiretail to slow itself down, knowing that the others will catch up in due time.

"I'm so disappointed. I thought one of you woodsy sorts would enjoy the chance to experience this."

A depressive sort of reality sets in; her saying she was disappointed in me felt way worse than it should. I belatedly lean forward towards her shoulder and ear. Though I want to, I don't move my hands from gripping the saddle. Cassandra seems aware that I've moved, but she doesn't say anything, so I take the initiative.

"Yeah, that was great, so I don't know why I said that."

"Afraid of actually having fun with someone–not of your people–I bet."

"That's just not even true!" I protest emphatically. I don't know what made me say anything to begin with, so I can't prove her wrong, either.

Cassandra's wiretail–a primarily sandy-brown colored beast with a black head, chest, and two front legs–growls a few decibels louder than usual before slowing to a stop next to what looks like a brook. I look left and right before sliding off the back of the wiretail, taking care not to accidentally be hit by the feline's tail so I'm not impaled by one of its foot-long quills. The wiretail growls and grumbles a bit more before Cassandra slides off. The cat walks over to the brook–only a few paces off the side of this particular traveler's path spot–and begins to lap up water as it gurgles and flows past noisily.

"I don't remember a brook right next to the path when we came through here towards the village." I sigh loudly.

"Perhaps you missed it."

"No, that's kind of my job on trade runs. I look for food and water."

"So… what does that mean?" Cassandra inquires, without sounding alarmed or concerned. She busies herself with cleaning off irritants along the side and undercarriage of her wiretail's saddle while the beast drinks.

"It probably means the path has shifted since then, and we're probably the first to come this way since it did."

I watch Cassandra while she brushes her fingers through the large cat's coat. Her nonresponse prompts me to add more to what I said.

"And, if the path shifted, I'm not entirely sure we're going to wind up in the exact vicinity where we encountered the wiretail. We might have to go all the way until we get to the river, then backtrack from there and try to guess how long it took, at the speed we were going at, to have a general area for search."

"So what? We have two trackers and you. I'm not worried."

"What if, er–"

I cut myself off–it occurs to me that I have no idea how she's getting blood to sustain herself. I haven't seen her take any blood from anyone or bite anything the entire few nights we've been in contact since their arrival at my village. I also realize, stupidly, that I have no idea how you ask a vampire if they will go all starved and crazy-mode any time soon. After I don't continue speaking, Cassandra turns her head to look at me with an eyebrow raised questioningly. She doesn't say anything, and I quickly try to piece together something to say that doesn't sound completely daft.

"So, I don't know how to ask this without it maybe, like, offending you–"

"You want to know if I'm going to starve without blood if we have to spend more than a few nights searching for the feral wiretail." Her voice is firm in response and sounds so vaguely disappointed again.

"Uh, actually, yes?" I grimace.

She turns her head back to the wiretail and returns to using her hand to pet along its shoulders. Not much of a beat is missed when she responds to my question with such a stilted response.

"I'll be fine; thank you for your concern."

The awkwardness of the situation is thankfully broken up by the sounds of pawed creatures coming up the traveler's path, and the five we left behind during the wiretail sprint finally catch up. Cassandra's wiretail temporarily looks up, turning its black-tipped and tufted ears towards the noise. When it recognizes what's approaching, it unconcernedly returns to drinking at the bubbling brook.

"Hey Ori, damn, you guys took off!" Khalil pipes up as soon as they slow next to where Cassandra's wiretail stopped us next to the brook.

Khalil, Kline, and the others all dismount from their wiretails, and the lot of them go to drink next to the first wiretail at the brook. There's some discontent with spacing, and a few snarls and growls start. One of the Blackham riders, with pits for a nose like a viper, raises his voice and says some command I don't recognize, which seems to settle down the big cats–for the most part.

"Yeah, man, the speed we got up to was incredible."

I steal a glance in the direction where Cassandra last was, but she's moved on and is instead walking away with Kline. Since their backs are turned to me, I can't attempt to read their lips, and I'm reasonably confident that if I try to sharpen my hearing to listen in, the bubbling and spluttering of the brook will overwhelm my senses. Khalil jogs over towards me and nudges me on the shoulder. Afterward, he lowers his voice to chat privately with me.

"Look at us, dude. Riding with some Blackham on the backs of their wiretails. Going to go and hunt down a feral wiretail that we first found! Freaking 'elite level tavern story achievement' unlocked, dude. I won't even have to try to smooth talk my way into fun-fun times."

He gives the most crooked and hilariously lecherous facial expression–complete with some ridiculous eyebrow waggle–so I start laughing, despite my concerns about the traveler's path having shifted.

"You're a moron."

"Maybe, but am I wrong, though?"

He nods to himself so smugly it's comical. I shake my head, a bit of laughter still creeping out.

"So, what's up with you and 'Cass'? Is this some kinda thing you'd tell your best bro about? Don't act like I didn't notice her making sure you rode on her cat when we left."

"She prefers 'Cassandra' if you don't know her, by the way. And… stop it. I'm not even trying to figure that out; besides, there's something you don't know about her."

"Oh shit. Cassandra's got a deep, dark secret you're about to lay on me?"

"Man, no. We'll talk about it later, and it's not a huge deal. It's just–yeah. It's different." I respond while rolling my eyes.

"What?!" Khalil exclaims noisily, "Aw hell no, you're not going to drop that nonsense on your boy, then try and leave it on a cliffhanger for later. Spit it out."

"Look, fine, just stop yelling." I drag him a few feet further from the others by his arm, then lower my voice. "She's a vampire, Khalil. Like a full-fledged bloodsucker. I saw the plants that were withered and dead in the exact spot she was sitting at Hannah's place."

"No waaaaay." He isn't being sarcastic. Instead, he starts looking around, clearly trying to find where Cassandra went.

"Stop trying to look for her, Khalil–be a little discrete for once, damn."

Khalil makes a little lip-smacking noise, followed by a loud exhale of air in my direction, but he does stop looking around so conspicuously. When he speaks next, he does so in a whisper.

"So, a vampire. Wow, I did not see that coming. Why's a vampire hanging out with the Blackham, though? I thought they hated the sun." He looks left and then right, narrowing his eyes conspiratorially. "Wait. How's she not a flaming ball of fire? It's daytime."

"A flaming… ball of… fire."

"Dude, whatever, questions still stand."

I crouch down and act like I'm trying to pull a large rock from the ground next to the brook. Khalil gets the hint and crouches down to do the same.

"Apparently, our sun doesn't actually hurt them, just irritates them or something, kinda like the night creatures of the Wilds. I don't know the details there, so don't harass me about it; I'm just telling you what Hannah said. Anyway, I don't know why she's hanging out with the sun-ascendant Blackham–it seems to me a vampire wouldn't want to hang out with those sorts of people. Buuuut, when she was talking to Hannah, she said Kline wasn't ordering her and that she 'serves someone else'."

"Ooooh, spooky intrigue."

I look over at Khalil with the most deadpan look I can muster instead of responding right away, which gives him the opportunity to quip first.

"Yeah, that's right, I used another word you didn't think I could use."

"Khalil, you are so stupid, it's straight-up painful sometimes."

He leans over and punches me in the arm and shoulder–it's jokingly done but hard enough to send me off balance and toppling forward into the brook. Instead of face-planting directly into the water, I manage to get my forearms up to stop my forward progression. My elbows splash down and catch me, but I shower my face and body with water, which might be worse. I shake my head, getting the water out of my eyes while Khalil howls with laughter behind me. There are some other chuckles and half-laughs a little further away as the Blackham group sees what happened.

"You… bitch!" I fake-rage and launch myself from out of the water and at Khalil. He immediately locks me up in some wrestling move with one of my arms all twisted behind my back. He laughs while we wrestle around, and I manage to knee him a good one at least once. We hit the dirt and continue not-really scuffling, with assorted laughter, cusses, and half-hearted punches. After a short few moments, Kline and Cassandra return, both of them clearing their throats at the same time. Of the pair, Kline is the one who speaks up.

"Really, gentlemen?"

I shove Khalil's head in the dirt, proudly smooshing his cheek into the sandy shoreline of the brook before Kline and Cassandra's interjection breaks us up.

"Dickhead."

"Ass-hat."

"If I weren't already wet and slipped at first, you wouldn't have had a chance."

"Sure, Ori, suuuuure. Keep telling yourself that. My Kung Fu is too strong for you!"

I groan to myself and no one, then push myself off the dirt, looking down at my all-black traveling clothes. After a few moments of brushing them off, I got most of the dirt and debris off, but the water from my initial crash into the brook would take time to dry off. I grunt a couple of times in discontent, mainly because I didn't manage to win our little fake brawl.

Cassandra and Kline have returned to the other Blackham, who all look amused by our little tiff. I offer Khalil a hand up from the ground, which he takes, and we both walk back towards the group. A couple of the wiretails have settled down with their dangerous tails curled around their body while the others are boredly pacing around. As I draw nearer, Kline gazes at me.

"Are you two good now?"

"Yeah, we're good; it wasn't serious."

"I didn't think it was."

There's a bit of a lull in conversation after Kline's last. He reaches into a small pack next to him on the ground and pulls out two small folds of jerky, which he tosses to me and Khalil.

"Eat this, then we keep going."

"You realize the path shifted, right?"

"Admittedly, I didn't initially, but Cass informed me that you told her that'd occurred."

Having caught the tossed jerky, Khalil and I opened up the leaves and twine used to keep them in little travel-protected rations and chewed some down. I'm not quite done with Kline yet, so I keep talking between bites.

"Yeah, I mean, I think the best way to go at this point would be to take the traveler's path all the way to the river since it should kick us out there at some point, and then backtrack about half a day and start the search there."

"Half a day backtrack? That seems a little excessive."

"Yeah, it took us quite a bit over half a day to get from where we encountered the wiretail to where the village wound up being past the river. So, I figured with the speed of the wiretails compared to the trade wagon with a pair of donkeys we were on, a half a day is a good measure of distance."

"Mmhmm. Okay."

I'm surprised the agreement came that quickly, and it must have spread on my face. I'm a terrible poker player, that's for sure. Cassandra watches us chewing the jerky before adding to the conversation.

"Don't look so surprised, Orion. We sought your help for a reason; we won't ignore your instinct about where we should get started."

My brain almost didn't hear the rest of her entire sentence after she said my full name, "Orion." The warm and fuzzies keep cropping back up, annoyingly distracting me during the absolute dumbest times. This time, it irritates me, so I turn away from Kline, Cassandra, and Khalil before walking toward Cassandra's wiretail. Behind me, I hear Khalil chirp at my back.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Don't walk away mad. I won fair and square!" His voice drifts after me, followed by amicable laughter.

I roll my eyes as I walk away, then shake my head. It's okay if Khalil thinks I'm just being a poor sport. I'd rather him think that than the truth: I can't seem to keep my head on straight when Cassandra is around. At least with my little crush on Aria–or whatever it was–I could still function. As I draw closer to Cassandra's beast with its tufted black tips of ears, its large head turns towards me. I slow down, reminding myself that while these are technically trained, they are very much not docile.

"Hey there, big guy. Don't eat me."

The oversized feline scents the air as I draw nearer, and the cat seems to focus its attention on the long piece of jerky I'm chewing on.

"Oh, you want some of this? I mean, alright, it's just meat."

Initially, I start to toss the rest of the jerky strip, but then I stop myself. Instead, I very slowly step closer to the bull-sized wiretail. It garbles a little of a low noise but doesn't take an aggressive stance; if anything, it just looks curious as to what the hell I'm doing.

"Alright, buddy, don't take my hand off, here…"

I slowly hold out the large piece of jerky, only holding the very tip of it with my fingers. The cat leans forward and takes the jerky right from me as if it's the most natural thing in the world. While it chomps the jerky, I slowly use my other hand to reach up and pet my hand against the wiretail's thick fur. I trace the line that separates the black fur of the beast's head, front shoulders, and front two legs from the rest of its sandy brown, puma-like coat. I'm somewhat surprised at the coarseness of the coat, though I'm not entirely sure why I would be. I fish out my second to last piece of jerky and offer it to the cat in the same way, and like the previous time, it takes it from me like it's not a big deal and without trying to eat my hand. This time, when I return to petting the beast's fur in front of its saddle, I close my eyes and concentrate.

The sun is still overhead, and I can feel its warmth, radiance, and strength coursing through me when I open myself up to it. I slowly move my hands along the shoulders of the big cat, maintaining touch, then try to push out with my consciousness towards that of the wiretail. There's definite resistance, much more than I've ever encountered from an animal before, but I'm not deterred. I might never get a chance to try this again, so I keep focusing.

I can feel the fatigue in my mind as I try to force my ability to kick in and, at the very least, be able to ride the senses of the wiretail. The struggle is real for me, and I feel a slight droplet of blood start to run from my nose. I'm just about to give up when everything in my mind's eye suddenly becomes an explosion of vibrancy, noises, and smells. It's a shock that almost overwhelms me, and I sit straight down on the ground reflexively. I don't lose my concentration, though, and I suddenly realize I've done it–I can see, hear, smell, and feel through the wiretail!

The wiretail scents the air–and I scent the tangy, metallic, sweet aroma of my own blood through the nose of the wiretail. It grumbles and rumbles, then turns and sits down. I realize I have no actual control over the wiretail; at this point, I'm just a passenger riding its senses. A few minutes pass, with me taking in all I can as the wiretail's attention lazily drifts back and forth. It's pretty remarkable, and I'm absolutely proud of myself for being able to make the leap to doing it with such a powerful creature, rather than only being able to do it on grabbats, birds, and the occasional cat or dog.

The saddled beast turns its attention to the figure of Cassandra walking towards me and the wiretail next to me. I can see myself through the eyes of the wiretail, which is a little strange in and of itself, but you get used to it. I'm sitting, eyes closed and cross-legged on the dirt, with a bloody nose that has stopped and started to dry already. Cassandra stops a few paces behind me, her seafoam eyes searching the back of my head. A moment passes, and then, almost like the wiretail scenting the jerky I originally offered to it, I see her scent the air behind me–just once. Her hands open and close before she inhales a second time, this time deeply.

She clears her throat behind me, but it doesn't distract me from my concentration, and I'm not fully ready to give up watching through the senses of the wiretail. When Cassandra sees I'm unresponsive, she walks over next to me and crouches down. She tilts her head ever so slightly, then snaps her fingers in front of my face. Thankfully, the wiretail seems to be somewhat interested in what Cassandra is doing, so I continue to be able to watch her while she puzzles out the situation in front of her. When I see her slightly turn her head to look around, I realize her upper jaw has somewhat changed–just the slightest tips of fangs protrude from beneath her upper lip. She inhales ever so slightly again, much closer to me and the dried remnants of my tiny nosebleed. Her seafoam eyes take on a hardened glint, and being a regular hunter, I know the look–a predator starting to act on instinct. I realize then that it's time to wake up. I force my consciousness to return to me, and the whirlwind feeling of all my senses dulling as they move from the wiretail directly back to my own threatens to unbalance me, even with my sitting on the ground.

I open my pale eyes, looking directly at Cassandra while she's inches from my face.

"Hi."

She exhales a slight huff of air through her nostrils, almost like she were laughing, though she most certainly isn't.

"Orion, you really, really need not do whatever you just did again without warning someone first."

"Why? Can't control yourself?"

"My control is of no concern to you." There was no joking tone there; Cassandra's voice was still quite hardened. I suspect now that I'm speaking to the real Cassandra.

"I mean, it is a little–" I reach up to rub the dried blood from my nose and the top of my lips. "After all, I'm riding with you."

"As I said, my control is of no concern to you. What you should be focusing on is your job." Her tone is icy, and I can see the tips of her fangs while she speaks. I wonder if maybe she's fighting her internal predator right now, and it's coming across to me as being frosty and standoffish.

"Hey, I thought we were cool; there's no need to be that way. Sorry I got a nosebleed. I was trying something, and it doesn't always give me a nosebleed when I do, so I didn't think about it before I did it."

"Yes, I'd imagine that's a regular problem for you. Not thinking before doing."

Cassandra stiffly stands up from in front of me, and her fangs still haven't retracted, so I figure it must take vampires a long time to get control over their real natures once they've come to the surface. Without saying another word, she walks a few paces to her wiretail and hops onto its back. After adjusting her weight on the cat, she turns her upper torso slightly to look at me expectantly. I push myself off the ground and brush off the dirt from my clothes again. After I'm okay with the state of my still-damp clothing, I walk over and pull myself onto the back of the saddle to once again ride behind Cassandra.

Seeing Cassandra and I mount the wiretail, the others move to do the same. Kline and Khalil come to join the group from wherever and whatever they were doing as a pair nearby. Once everyone is mounted and ready to go, Kline sets off in the same direction down the traveler's path, and this time, Cassandra allows the other riders to all go ahead of us. With us taking up the rear of the pack and keeping the pace Kline and the others set, we ride in an uncomfortable silence.

The silence continues for hours, and I get desensitized to it after a while. My eyes watch the passing of trees, shrubbery, and more wilderness the longer we move across the path, but my brain is numbed to it, and I'm essentially watching it all pass without seeing anything. My thoughts swirl around the events of the last couple of weeks and where they have brought me. I try to puzzle out what is truly happening but come to the same dead ends brought about by a simple lack of information. I'm even contemplating all of the steps that led to me riding on the back of a wiretail with a vampire who may–or may not–actually like me.

Once I finally get to that point, I shake the thoughts away. Those sorts of thoughts don't do anything for the entirety of the situation; Cassandra was right about me needing to focus on my job. Once I shake free of my circular thoughts and become more aware of my surroundings, I realize I can hear the faintest sound of voices drifting out from the deep Wilds. I hear the songs again! I touch Cassandra's back with a hand, and she stiffens as though something has touched her that disgusted her. I fight the emotional punch to my ego and instead lean forward to talk to her.

"I can hear the singing again. Can't you?"

"I hear nothing."

"I heard the same thing the first time we came through, just before we got to the river. It wasn't far from where we encountered the wiretail. If we backtrack a little from here, I'm fairly certain we could pick up the trail."

"I hear nothing."

"What? Seriously? You told me to focus on my job, and I am. Sorry if you're mad at me, but this doesn't apply to that."

"I'm not–" Cassandra cuts herself off brutishly. "If you're sure this is where we should stop and do a short backtrack, then that's what we'll do."

"I'm sure."

Cassandra whistles sharply before slowing her wiretail to a stop. The other riders, Kline and Khalil, also come to a fairly rapid stop and then turn around. Kline guides his wiretail back to stand next to Cassandra and I. Kline speaks while Khalil gives me a nod and a friendly greeting.

"What's going on?"

"Orion says he can hear singing, and it's the same singing he heard as they were almost to the river on their trip. He informs me that if we backtrack from here just a little bit, we should be able to locate the trail."

Kline looks at me for confirmation.

"We could locate it; I mean, it's been over a week since then, so it's a longshot if the wiretail is still even around, but yeah, with three trackers, we should be able to find at least something out there."

"Do we need to worry about the singers of the singing?"

"Nah, man, we're going to backtrack away from them, so we should be good."

"And if you or the other two have to track in this direction?"

"Er… well, yeah, it could be a problem then. Marmennlar aren't exactly known for being friendly to outsiders, you know? Not that I'm saying for sure it's them–it could be water elves or something–but I've learned that generally anything in the deep Wilds is either not to be trusted or will rip your face off. So yeah, it could be dangerous. Did I answer your question? Sorry."

"Yes." There's a pregnant pause as Kline seems to try to decide on a plan, but finally, he speaks again.

"We'll send someone with each tracker, just to be safe."

"I'll go with Orion." Cassandra declares, which surprises me.

Kline nods at Cassandra, then tugs a little on the saddle of his wiretail to head back to the others and give them the rundown of the new plan. Meanwhile, I'm mystified as to why Cassandra chose to volunteer again to go along with me after how seemingly angry she was with me for the past few hours. I genuinely do not understand her.

"I wonder why I can hear them singing but no one else can. Initially, when we were coming through, I thought Lani, Aria, and Khalil were ignoring it, but now I'm not so sure…"

"It's a mystery that doesn't matter right now, yes?"

I shrugged my shoulders before realizing that Cassandra couldn't see my gesture in response, so I faintly added on a little verbal response.

"Yeah. Sure." I say with a sigh.

When Kline and the others turn themselves around on the path, they pick up the pace, and we follow behind them. It isn't too long, only about half an hour before I tell Cassandra that we are probably in a good enough stopping spot to get started. She whistles to stop the procession of beasts and people, so we all circle up and dismount. Since six of us will be heading out, leaving two behind–Kline and Khalil–they're essentially volunteering to set up what the campsite will be like in the foreseeable future.

I gaze up at the sky, seeing the night creeping up on us faster than expected. Because of it, I question the others on whether we're going to start early tomorrow or if we're going to start tonight. The other two trackers laugh a little bit–long enough that I begin to wonder what's so funny–before Cassandra leans over and tells me that trackers from the Blackham always track at night; it's the only way they can generally catch a wiretail in the wild. Embarrassed, I lapse into silence.

Khalil gets a fire going while Kline supplies material for it. The rest of us get our gear for tracking and hunting from the stout wiretail we used to hold our traveling supplies. Kline announces that we'll all have a meal before we're free to find what we can and that it'll only take a few minutes to cook up. Initially, I just sat to wait, but Cassandra touched my shoulder lightly and gestured for me to follow her slightly away from the others. Naturally, I follow. We walk several long yards down the path and then turn to take a few steps off and into some bushes and shrubbery for privacy. Once Cassandra is satisfied that we'll not be overheard or seen by the others, she stops next to me. She turns her gaze towards me after a few seconds of silence.

"I apologize for earlier."

Her seafoam eyes glint in the rising moon, and I realize that a vampire's eyes are reflective of light for the first time. It makes sense, being night creatures, but it's still interesting to me.

"It was my bad, honestly; you're good, Cass–Andra."

Stumbling over her name seems to amuse her, and she grins slightly. No fangs anymore, I denote.

"You can call me Cass, if it pleases you. And no, it wasn't your fault, Orion. It was something I should have had better control over."

There's a long pause of silence, almost like she wants to say something else but decides against it. I press the issue since I'm not above trying to drag out things from people.

"What is it?"

Her eyes searched my face, scrutinizing me with an open apprehension I hadn't seen from her before. I take a step slowly in her direction, thinking I understand the situation, but she immediately puts a hand up and stops me by pressing it directly in the center of my chest. I can feel the cold radiating from her hand through my old black t-shirt, as though I've been stopped by a hand made of ice.

"Don't, Orion."

"I don't understand, Cass. Genuinely. I'm confused as hell right now, and it's going to fuck me up when we go out to track in a few minutes. Can you just untangle some of what's going on here for me? Please?"

Cassandra doesn't lower her hand, and her seafoam eyes stare at me without breaking contact. I feel her hand move a little, gripping some of the fabric of my shirt in her fingers before she smoothes it back across my chest. It almost feels like she's petting my chest, like one would do to an animal or something. Enough time passes that I think Cassandra isn't going to respond, but then she breaks eye contact with me, instead choosing to look at where her hand is placed on my upper torso.

"We have a strong instinct–my kind–and it's not just to feed. From time to time, we also get an overwhelming desire to claim territory or things–and sometimes that's even people. It's why people who know about us existing tend not to trust our kind, because we'll do a lot of things–not always good things–to chase that instinct. I don't know why you've triggered it with me, but you have. For that, you really do deserve an apology up front."

I start to flush a little despite trying to tell myself not to. Cassandra immediately seems to pick up on it. I'm momentarily distracted by the scent of night-blooming flowers nearby wafting up–or perhaps my mind just needed to distract itself while I digest her words. My eyes shift, trying to locate the blooming flowers, and when I do, I smile just a little. Cassandra doesn't seem to realize that I'm not looking at her at that moment, or perhaps she doesn't care because she continues speaking.

"It's not necessarily a good thing, Orion, like I said. Instincts are very hard to control at times. And claiming territory or property can be, well, bad for all parties involved. Yes, I would feel more protective of you, but I would feel protective in the same way as a favored pet. I absolutely would wind up trying to keep you doing what my instincts think you should do. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Bird in a cage?"

"Yes. Bird in a cage. Something to look at, play with, and then put back in the cage for the next time."

"Don't really like that…"

I step away from her and walk over to a small batch of blooming flowers that are so fragrant. Reaching down to my side, I remove my small whittling knife from my belt and carefully start slicing off some lemony, citrus-smelling blossoms. Pinks, whites, oranges, and reds are all in hand, and I stand straight up. Cassandra hasn't moved, so I return to standing next to her, having let the silence go on long enough. She seems to be of the same mindset because, once again, she starts to speak first.

"That's why I'm giving you this warning, Orion. I wasn't angry with you; I'm trying to avoid there being a real problem here."

"So… you're saying… you like me."

I give her a crooked grin out of nowhere, trying to break the seriousness of our conversation. She blinks her eyes a few times as if she's trying to figure out whether I'm serious. Her lips twist upwards a fraction at the corners, which tells me more than speaking does. I take that time to offer her the bouquet of night-blooming jalapa flowers.

"The Endomi have one thing right. They respect this flower enough to have made it their tribe's symbol, you know."

"No, I didn't know that, if I'm honest. Changing the subject on a serious matter, Orion? Tsk, tsk. Your friend Khalil was right; you are an 'ass-hat.'"

Cassandra takes the flowers from me and tucks them into a pocket in her cross-chest light armor, probably just to be polite since they immediately start to curl and wither when placed so close to her. I laugh a little bit and step backward, though my brain and body don't want to.

"Sorry, just some part of me always wants to try and cut uncomfortableness with humor. I understand, though; I'll be more careful about what I do. I don't want to make it harder on you than it already must be."

"I should have been able to maintain control, and frankly, I'm a bit exasperated that I haven't. I may have spent too long in the Wilds, away from humanity and others of my kind. It could be that it's making it more difficult for me to maintain my needs, wants, and other assorted desires. Perhaps after all this is sorted, and my other business is done, I'll return through a seam."

I gaze at her, purposefully locking my eyes with her seafoam ones. I take a half-step in her direction, my shoes crunching a few sticks in the process. She doesn't move away, but I don't take another step–or even half-step–forward.

"Or… you could not."

"Or I could not, yes. But why would I stay if it's eroding my ability to control myself?"

"Maybe you're not supposed to be so self-controlling. People are people, and creatures are creatures. We don't tell wiretails not to hunt and kill, and we don't tell snakes not to get their food even if it's detrimental to grabbats and other small creatures of the Wilds. Why should you be held to a different standard than they are?"

"Because I'm not an animal, Orion."

"Well, I mean, sure, I was just making a point. I don't deny what I am. I do what I feel is right, which is why I hunt and track for Hannah and Jorge's village, you know?"

"I appreciate what you're saying, Orion, truly I do, but you don't know what the ever living fuck you're talking about right now."

I purse my lips a little, trying to decide what to say. She's right, though. I don't know what it feels like to be a vampire like her, so I probably shouldn't be trying to advise her on listening or not listening to her internal instinctive monologue. While I stand there in silence, a ghost of a smile forms on her lips again.

"Don't worry about it, Orion. I've already reined myself in. I don't think we'll see a return of that side of me without my permission any time soon."

She steps close to me, completely invading my private space. Immediately, I can feel the warmth of my body sapping away towards hers, and this time, when she leans in close to me, she places her lips against mine. Feeling the icy kiss of her lips is strange at first–as well as the feeling of my body heat being almost whisked away by her coldness–but I don't draw away from her. Instead, I slide my hands along either side of her waist, drawing her closer to me. Before the kiss becomes too deep and we're driven to distraction, she places both of her hands on my chest again to make space between us. I don't want it to end, but I don't try to fight forward.

"We should go back to the others, Orion."

"Yeah… Except… I don't think we should."

"No, I'd imagine being your age, you very much don't think we should."

"What are we doing here? I want you, and you want me. We're adults."

"Orion, did you not hear anything I said the last five minutes?"

"I heard you, and I also heard you say that you can control it, and I don't need to worry about it. What should I believe? That you can't control it or that you can?"

"Don't be sarcastic with me."

"I'm not, anyway I'm just trying to figure you out."

Finally, I move a fraction of another step forward so that I press harder against her two hands on my chest. It's not forceful, but it is purposeful. Unfortunately, I also almost wind up falling forward flat on my face because one moment, she's in front of me, and the next, she's about twenty paces away. The speed of her movement takes me by great surprise, and I catch myself before falling.

"Holy shit, Cass."

"I'm not doing this here or now."

I exhale loudly to get my hormones in check and settle back down.

"I'm returning to the others, Orion. Join us when you're ready."

I start to say something, but I realize she's already gone. Instead, I stand there alone, just off the traveler's path, with a horrible discomforting need in my lower extremities. I shake my head at myself and then run a hand over my face. Then, I mutter to no one but myself before walking uncomfortably out of the brush and back towards the group.

"Well… Nice job, idiot. Well played."