Freya & Derek: Scene 1 Awkward Hellos

[luckyescape]

Life was a series of unexplained events. That was how Freya saw it anyway and while a part of her begged, wished and prayed to know the more rational part of her told her to stay away from it. Nothing good could come of diving into the past. The dark shadow still haunted her dreams and she remembered the scent of the blood and rain as she clung to her mother’s side. She’d been running since however things grew more tenuous as word of a werewolf began to spread through whispers and murmurs. She’d done so well but now, whatever it was that tried to kill her family, knew she wasn’t dead.

It was a scary thought and one that kept Freya moving faster than ever. She was used to being alone at this point, always looking over her shoulder, sleeping at most a few hours at a time. She used to spend months in a single place before moving on but now she felt as if she was always running, always on edge. She didn’t even know what she was running from. It was just a shadow and it’d been years ago. If she was lucky they’d lost interest in her pack now that it was a pack of one.

When she entered Beacon Hills she paused. It was easy to tell when she'd wandered into someone else's territory, it's a smell thing. She kept moving forward, her backpack slung over her shoulder. If she got to a crowded area it wouldn’t matter whose territory this was, there were still laws and werewolves usually had to be discreet. Freya didn’t actually know what she’d find or perhaps she'd pass by completely unnoticed. The streets were more deserted than she liked and she quickly rerouted though she had no idea where she actually was. She had a map but she'd consult that later.

Her fingers tightened around the straps of her ratty backpack while the breeze gathered and pushed at her long wheat colored hair. Summery gray eyes flicked at any sign of motion. She wore a tight black tank top that had ACDC in white letters across the front. Her pants were also black with an array of zippers and pockets to keep the most ADD child entertained. They clung to her hips while falling in straight lines down to her boots. She didn’t ever bother with a underwear, if only because it was faster to shift without it.


[ooc note: Freya has a lot of tattoos'... she got them by asking someone to imbed silver ink into her skin with a silver needle. Just cuz. It's all HERE. As well as what she smells like. Also let me know if this is okay.]

Comments

[thesourwolf]

Derek had a love/hate relationship with crowded streets. After his family had died he and Laura had lost themselves in neutral territories, which meant busy and congested cities. It was necessity, but his inner wolf disliked it. The running from the hunters which murdered his family, yet it hadn't kept Laura safe. No, it'd been Peter who killed her, driven insane from the fire. Thankfully when he resurrected he had his sanity returned, but Derek couldn't forget, couldn't forgive. So Peter was gone.

But Derek remained. He was done running. Done hiding. There was a pack of teenagers he had to keep in line and keep safe. A town to bring order back to that had a penchant for pulling in the supernatural. So he stayed. He rebuilt the Hale House, restoring it like his mother and Laura would have wanted.

He had just finished ordering furniture for the house and was out on the sidewalk, frowning at the world around him. unsure of what he was doing, really. He'd never been meant to be an Alpha. Laura was the oldest, the better suited. He'd never been a really good werewolf, and now here he was in charge of a pack. He was lost in these thoughts when a scent caught his attention.

He paused and looked around until he saw a young blonde walking his way, tattooed and looking like a goth. Wolf, she smelled of wolf and one he didn't know. Walking right for him. She crossed his arms and waited until she was close enough to scent him despite the wind being on his side.

"Who are you?" He asked, eyes flashing red to show her he was an Alpha while no one else was looking or paying attention.