Origins of Hunter

Hunter Leemonex... Few werewolves in Endasia have a strange past. Most werewolves grow up in their pack, survive with their pack, and die in their pack. There are also werewolves such as Hunter, who only wish they had such a simple life. Hunter Leemonex is reminded of this past every day. What event could occur that would cause such distress in his life?

This is the story of Hunter Leemonex.
The story of the werewolf that was a part of the 'event' that seemingly killed his whole family.

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12. Conversation Through Exaustion

“Where are we going, Hunter?”

I respond with silence.

“Hunter!” Peter runs in front of me hands to my shoulder, interrupting my rapid pace. Still, even though Peter nearly forces a response from me, I don't say a word.

“Look, I know…,” he pauses. “I get that what just happened is traumatizing and difficult for you to wrap your head around, but you can't walk aimlessly in the middle of nowhere for all of eternity!”

I furrow my eyebrows. He has no idea… My home was just burned down, I was betrayed…

I begin walking, bumping into Peter as I pass. He gets in front of me, stopping me yet again.

“At least tell me where we are going.”

“I… don't… care.” I mutter. I shoulder my way past Peter again, more aggressively this time. He pulls my shoulder back, and I try to keep walking, but I am weak from exhaustion. I turn, unwillingly.

“So you do not have a plan,” Peter asks. He talks like nothing ever happened, he has no sympathy for me whatsoever.

“No. Better walk somewhere than sit and do nothing.”

“I disagree.”

“I don't want to sit.”

“We need to do something.”

“Look, Peter,” I take a daring step forward. I am furious. “You have no idea what just happened to me. My life just took a violent turn for the worst. Because you don't get it…”

Peter, angry faced, interrupts my sentence. He takes a step closer until there is no distance between us, and gives me a push to the upper chest. It is pathetic I didn't react faster, and more pathetic that I actually fell.

“Where do you think my parents are, Hunter?” He yells at me. His eyes are watery as he yells as me on the ground, like a father to a child. “They are dead, Hunter. Dead!” He screams this, I can tell this anger has built up inside him; not just in the last conversation, but over years. “I watched them die… Or more accurately I watched as they became food for freakin vampires. So shut… the DURK up about me not getting it. YOU don't get it. I am only here to help, so stop making my sacrifice utterly worthless. Got it?”

I neither frown nor show pity. My face is neutral, as it so often is, even though he swore using the worst word in Endasia; Durk. Still, I don't understand the seriousness of what he just said. In any other situation I would feel sorry for Peter. He really did make a sacrifice; he took me away from the village, where I would have fought back against the people of the city until my dying breath; surely I would have died, but after having killed every single one of the villagers that lived there.

Now that I think of it, what he did, to take me away, is against my wish. I would be dead, but I would be dead with my parents. What do I even do now? I have nothing to live for...

But Peter did take me away, and the villagers know he is gone. He knows the village will never welcome him back. He is sacrificing his relatively safe life at the village to look after me. So whether I realize it or not, it is a sacrifice. He is even opening up. What he just expressed he has never mentioned to me before; I never knew about his parents. I was insulting him by telling him he didn't understand, only fueling his anger.

But right now, I don't care. I don't care what happens to me, I don't care Peter opened up, I don't care Peter made a sacrifice of any kind. My face must have shown some of this reasoning.

“You're pathetic.” Peter turns in a fury, and begins to walk away. “No,” he turns, “you are helpless. That's what you are. I'm not wasting my time anymore.” He begins to walk away, and I know if I let him, he won't come back.

“Wait,” I say, sitting up. I don't know what woke up in me, but I know at this point I need Peter. I'm in no condition to do anything right now, and I think company is the best thing for me. But I am not sure how to formulate these thoughts into words, after saying ‘wait.’

Peter turns, awaiting an additional statement. I gulp. What can I say?

“I'm sorry. I had no idea…” It's all I can say.

It is Peter’s turn to remain silent.

“Okay,” he finally says. “Apology accepted. Sorry for poking you.” He gives a half hearted smile that I return with an entirely fake one. “If you don't have a plan, then allow me to lead the way. Ironically, my old home isn't far from here. We can recuperate there. Sound like a plan?”

“Sure.” I still hardly have any feelings anywhere. I pull myself to my feet. My muscles are completely numb to all movement. It's almost comical, my muscles are numb to movement, just like I am numb to everything.

I can hardly tell I ran the whole previous night. My muscles haven't had rest for awhile, maybe that's why. They aren't sore because they haven't had a chance to be sore.

I walk in line with Peter as my thoughts continue to other odd things like muscle soreness. I try so hard not to remember what just happened.

“It's best you try to talk about your feelings,” Peter says, not turning to face me. “Otherwise it will coop up inside of you and eventually push you to pop, driving you crazy in the process. It will ruin you for the rest of your life.”

A moment of silence passes. “I don't know. That's my mindset. It's like I'm in a dream, I don't care, I have no worth…”

“I remember going through that,” Peter says. “Vampires attacked my village, they ruined everything. I had that exact frame of mind for weeks. I don't know who else escaped… I was, like, ten years old at the time.”

“Good old times, huh?” A poor joke. Thankfully, Peter shrugs it off.

“Hardly.”

“How did you manage yourself, being alone at Sormore?”

“I claimed to be a Lesser. They couldn't prove otherwise. Honestly, the Lesser thing is stupid. Anybody could walk into a human camp and claim to be a lesser, and the camp couldn't prove otherwise. But yes, I am a full-breed. I could tell you were a full-breed werewolf since the moment I saw you, even though that's not what you told everyone. Didn't your parents come up with something? Like you got separated from your real parents?”

“Yeah. My parents…” I swallow. “They claimed that I was adopted in sense, that they found my laying around in an abandoned human house or something. Then my parents claimed to be Lessers to keep us in the camp, because we had to move from our old pack for personal reasons.”

“Since this is an open conversation, what exactly is that personal reason?”

I pause. I have trouble thinking back, mostly because I need to think past the fire to really remember my past. Then I remember. I have never really told anyone… Why would I? It is personal, and I don't like to brag about my accomplishments…

But as Peter said, this is an open conversation.

“I partook in the Elite Trinity.” His expression is blank. He obviously has no idea what I'm talking about. “Elite Society, Trite Camp, it has a few names…”

“I may have heard of it,” Peter responds. He shrugs. I don't push the subject with him. If he doesn't know what the Elite Trinity is now, my explanation will only sound like I am trying to make my graduating from there all the more amazing. I suppose I could summarize it, though.

“It was, like, a training camp, teaching people how to fight.” Peter nods. I won't describe how it was the best training camp in all of Endasia.

“I have definitely heard of those before.”

“Yeah. We had to leave the pack I was born in to attend this Elite Trinity camp, where I got my tattoo actually, and then when camp finished we didn't know where to go, so then we went to Sormore… Its a lot less adventurous than it sounds…”

“You have a tattoo?”

“Yeah.” I roll up the sleeve on my right arm so he can see, though I have the same tattoo on both arms. It is one large circle connecting three football shapes that are already connected. He nods understandingly.

“I know what you mean, saying it's less adventurous than it sounds,” Peter responds. He seems focused, like is only paying attention with one half of his mind. The other half is using to navigate. I can tell that by the way he is staring at various landmarks; a tree split by lightning, a beaver dam, a field. He knows where we are, there is no doubt about that.

“Are we almost there?” I ask.

“Yes. Only a minute or two away.”

“What is our plan, exactly?”

“Well, seeing that you need to recuperate, it will be a good place to regain your senses. It's a great hunting place so we can get food, and it is calm and peaceful.”

“Isn't that…” I want to ask if it is the camp his parents died. It is a reasonable question, but I am afraid to ask it because it is so personal. In fact, the reason Peter is partially spaced out may be because he knows his parents died here. I finish the question. “Isn't this camp you are talking about the same camp your, uh, parents died?”

“Yes.” Straightforward and honest. No emotion. I only nod.

We travel further in silence. Eventually, the small camp is within sight.

It is an odd camp, it looks like a human establishment. It is a few buildings consisting of two or three stories. It looks like the top of the building actually fell to the side of the standing building. Don't ask me how that happened, it doesn't even seem like only the top part of a building could break, but what do I know?

There is a few normal werewolf huts against the buildings, but the buildings definitely outshine the small huts. In fact, it seems like the three buildings are the centerpiece.

I frown. “Why is it so clean?” Also a reasonable question, but once again it drives into Peter’s privacy. I try to keep most of my questions to myself, but it seems like if the camp was attacked last time Peter was here, it would be… messy.

“Believe it or not, vamps are clean.” That's odd. I never would have guessed.

We approach the civilization. No walls, no recon paths, just a few houses in the middle of nowhere. If I was alone I would take a path around the back, or sneak my way in to see if anyone lives here now, but Peter walks straight to it like he owns the place. I decide it is not a good idea to take another path, I have suggested and questioned plenty for one day.

I almost forgot about my previous night for a whole twenty minutes.

“Where do we go?” I ask, now that we are at the center of the down. It is as dead as Peter could have described, nothing lives here except for a few wild animals that scamper by randomly, as if to say “hey, get off my lawn!”

“Let's go to Delta 3.” I stare at him blankly. He returns the stare until he realizes that I had never been here. Man, Peter’s mind really is in another place.

“Humans built the buildings, obviously. Each of the three buildings have a name; Delta, Nova, and Foxtrot. Each floor has a number. For identification purposes, we would call each location specifically, like Delta three is the delta building on the third floor. We will go there because there are plenty of hammocks and stuff.”

“Interesting. Okay, let's go.”

It is surprisingly clean. I never would have guessed there was an invasion. The buildings are empty, the stairs are empty, each floor is empty. That is, until we reach the third floor. Here, there are windows and hammocks and even weapons stashed in the corners of the floor.

“Sweet,” I smirk at Peter as I pick up an arrow, pulsing with energy. I think it is one of those enchanted arrows, I learned about these in training.

“We’ll chill here. Overnight we’ll have to keep watch, only because I don't know when vamps make their fly by, and we want to make sure we are awake if today is the day they stop to say hello.”

“Gotcha.” I walk to the window. The Suns are setting. Does that mean I have been running and walking with Peter for an entire day now? I wonder how Peter was able to keep up with me. He was always the slow kid at Sormore, but then again it was probably to keep his Lesser claim look legit.

I scan the buildings, and then something catches my eye. For a moment, just a moment, I swear I see something moving in the other building. It was black, it looked like a cape chasing after the wearer. Is my mind seeing things? No, my vision is too good for that… Then again, I am exhausted…

“Get away from that window and just rest, Hunter. This is our relax time, we need to make the best of it.” He is reclined in a hammock in the corner next to a small desk, staring with empty eyes at a small book. I wonder if it is a journal of some sort.

I heed his advice to rest. I have a strong feeling that even though we are in a supposedly safe place, I can't shake the mere thought of something unexpected happening tonight. I suppose that's just a side effect of going through what I just went through, I guess; forever presuming the worst in someone.

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