Wrapping her arms around herself she pulled her legs onto the chair just as the sobs wracked her body. Alone, a word that had permeated her life, but now it was absolute. Not even over the death of Evelyn, her foster mother, and now this, Bryan was gone too. This home, the only one she had ever known, had fallen apart so quickly, what would Bran do with her now? There weren't any other wolves in the pack that wanted her; she couldn't return to her mother, there was no one in the world that wanted her. The tears had slowed but with the lessening of pain came emptiness. Wasn't there anyone out there that could love her exactly as she was instead of wishing there was something different about her?
She lifted her head as she smelled a new scent in the room. Listening quietly to figure out who had come she realized she didn't recognize the footfalls. Anger spread through her along with the thought that it wasn't someone coming to check on her, but one of the wolves that hated her come to add to her pain. She whipped her head around with a growl and became still. A young girl, a few years younger than herself it seemed, was standing in the doorway. Something about her eyes made Mercy calm; made her want to form a friendship with this tiny waif.
She was blonde with light skin to compliment her hair. Her eyes varied between sapphire and summer sky blue. She was smaller than most girls her age. Mercy knew she couldn't be a werewolf, she was too slight in build, and in her eyes she saw an inner calm that no wolf possessed.
She took a step forward, and whispered "Why were you crying?"
Instantly the defenses went up, who was this stranger to intrude on her grief and ask about her feelings? Mercy had depended only upon herself for as long as she could remember. Even with Bryan and Evelyn there she had confided in no one. So why then, did she suddenly want to cry on this girl's shoulder and tell her everything? She wanted to know what was going on; fine she'd tell her the truth. Mercy had learned young that people weren't apt to handle the truth well.
"My foster mother just died a week ago, yesterday my foster father killed himself, my mother doesn't want me, and now I have no place here either. I'm alone, truly alone."
All of a sudden arms surrounded her and she didn't feel as alone anymore. The girl had run across the room and thrown herself into the chair also with her arms tightly around her neck. This was not the reaction that she had been going for, she was expecting a sneer as the girl walked out the door, and instead she got comfort. Tears welled up in her eyes and started to fall as the girl let Mercy ride out her grief with someone there to hold her. Something in this girl called to Mercy, something told her that this girl knew what it felt like to be alone.