I am one million times sorry for this chapter being late…it's because I'm lazy, and the semester is at its end. Ah! Finals!!!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you guys are my motivation. Plus, I felt motivated. Thanks.

I do not, under any circumstances, own Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, or any of the characters. They all belong to the wonderful, the talented, Stephenie Meyer.

Chapter Two

Moriahie's point of view

The dampness of the vines left moisture on my hands as I clawed at the looming wall that led back to my village. Why had I come this way? I knew that the forest of Yahl was forbidden, and how they set up this horrible wall, decorated, so to speak, will vines and brush. I was weeping, and the tears flowed freely down my stricken face. What had I gotten myself into this time? Just as this thought passed through my mind, my hand hit something hard, and a sharp stab of pain shot up my arm, causing me to gasp, not only because pain.


Grimacing, I looked at where my hand had been hurt. It was a solid, gray and brown surface, coated with dirt and mud…and bugs. I squealed and, well, to put it frankly, nearly soiled myself. Insects. They disgust me. But that wasn't the only thing that I saw that frightened me, nearly to the point of humiliating myself; there was something else. It was a figure of a woman, the outline only. I could tell because of the feminine curves. I reached out my hand to brush over it and feel it. It was hard and rough, indented where the lines were. This was no drawing, it was carved. Gasping, I studied the specimen closer still, to see if there was something that I overlooked. The hair seemed to have a monstrous look, in the air above her head. And right where her eyes should be, were dark red dots that looked as if they had been smeared on…not painted. I recoiled at what I realized it was.

Unknown point of view

The dark veil of the forest trees permitted me to leap to the branches in search of prey. My sharp vision cut through the mist like a blade, my eyes scanning the area surrounding the tree in which I crouched. Although I loved tasting Quileute blood, when I could not have it, I made do with forest animals. The high wall kept me from their tribe. I could not enter, even though I could easily smash through it. The animal/humans would attack me. And, though I could kill them easily, I saw no need to do that.

A faint scent caught my attention. It was animal blood, perhaps a large rodent or baby deer. I licked my lips. Good enough.

Bounding through the trees, at a speed in which everything was a blur around me, I could see everything I passed, and one mile ahead. There was the baby deer, wandering the forest floor, probably in search of food. But so was I.

I moved so soundlessly, it didn't realize that I was coming. It was oblivious to anything but its own footsteps and the food it would never again consume. Coming closer than ever, maybe only twenty yards or so, I slowed myself to a silent halt, and crouched low to the dirt covered ground. There was no sound, except for the soft thump, thump, and thump of the hooves against the ground. Not even my breath could be heard. It was almost completely silent. I waited patiently until the time was correct, for I knew. I could hear the animal's heart in its chest…and I knew it was time to dine.

Suddenly, and without warning, I pushed off the ground with such force, the trees shook. Flying through the damp air was exhilarating. The deer, knowing that his fate rested solely on my actions, held perfectly still, staring with shocked eyes as I descended. I was about to land and sink my teeth into his little neck, a wonderful, glorious smell wafted through the air, confounding my concentration. I landed on my feet, still crouched low, as the baby deer scampered away from me. This smell of blood was not a animal, oh no. It was human. And I couldn't wait to feed.

Moriahie's point of view

I knew instantly, upon seeing the eyes dotted with blood that I should get back to the village. But I also knew that I couldn't. I could never climb that wall or find a safe passage through it. How did I get in? How does anyone get in? That was a question that I would have to present to my mother, well adopted mother. She knew everything.

I decided, since I was stuck in this predicament anyway, that I should explore the surrounding area; see what's out there. I decided to run.

Running through the forest, the air so cool and calming, felt like a dream…or a haze. I wasn't really aware of which way I was going, and I tripped over logs and fallen branches often. I saw the bright morning sunlight come down in rays straight in front of me, and I wanted it. I wanted the light. I was tired of the dark. It reminded me of my dreams; my demented, frightening dreams; of a blacker than black figure in a pitch black area trying to kill me. I shuddered, even as I ran. Nightmares.

I stopped as soon as I approached a saddening weeping willow tree. I vaguely remembered a story that I had once heard about the weeping willow, told by a stranger when I was a mere infant. It told of a willow and a child, whose fates were intertwined. The child abused the poor tree, grabbing onto its long strands and pulling, ripping off the bark, causing the willow pain beyond imagination. One day, a day when the tree was old and dying of its hurts. It saw the boy, who was now a young man. A boy was in trouble. A wolf, one of the scariest, yet most familiar creatures, lurked behind a stump, and the boy was playing with the grass.

The tree knew that the wolf would kill the boy, and knew that it, itself, had not long to live. So, to save the boy, to whom he owed nothing, the tree gently let go and fell upon the wolf, killing it. The boy never knew how much the old tree loved him, despite his flaws. The truth was that the willow considered the boy its best friend, its only companion.

A small breeze blew the strands about and my curiosity sparked once more. Carefully, so as not to hurt the tree, like the uncaring boy in the story, I parted the strands and entered. When the sun hit my eyes, it burned, but I was relieved. I was in a meadow, an opening in the forest. It was a wide clearing, with trees on all sides. But that's not what caught my attention most. Nor did the bright green grass or the wonderful blue morning sky. It was the female figure on the edge of the clearing that drew my eyes.

Startled, I backed toward the willow, but by then, the female had already stepped out.

She sparkled.