:/AN/: Dis thing was just stuffed into my hard drive for so long I dun forgot bout it. *sigh* Anyhu, read and weep peoples.

Disclaimer: If I owned Twilight, Bella and Edward would exist for the sole purpose of becoming someones dog food...


November 19th 2008, Off the South-East Coast of Ireland

A lean figure stood motionless at the edge of the cliff; listlessly watching the waves beat against the rocks below. The man's form was silhouetted against the full moon, the light playing on his coffee coloured skin. His face was cast in shadows... But even so, wariness could still be gleamed from the tension of his body. He was bare back and clad only in a pair of full length, black Levi jeans. They clung to the plains of his legs like a thief to shadows, emphasizing the outward sprawl of his hips and bottom; chasing every curve, every line...

Another wave crashed violently against the bank below, startling the author from her ogling.

The salty seas sprays were a soothing delight as they sprinkled Paul's chest and face; his tongue darted out to taste the ones that had suddenly fallen on his lips and it brought a soft smile to his lips. 'Sea salt and something... uniquely of Meath...' he mused fondly. So close to the taste of home...

Yup! He was far as fuck from Forks. Meath, Ireland. That was where he was.

Meath is one of the thirty-two countries of Ireland and is located in the province of Leinster. It is named after the historic kingdom and province of Mide, meaning middle and is today known as The Royal County due to its history as seat of the ancient High Kings of Ireland.

'What the hell..' Paul thought perturbed as he catalogued what he'd learnt about Meath from the local library unintentionally. Who'd have thought he, Paul Delayne, notorious bad-boy player would walk into a library off his own free will o_O? 'Who indeed?' He reflected with a low chuckle.

...

In the distance, the sound of snapping bone echoed in the silence. Fresh blood pooled on the cold forest floor, gushing from the dead deer's body as its neck was viciously...no, mercifully broken. The bone jutted out awkwardly, as the animal's head fell limply to the side, hanging on by a mere thread of bloodied fur...

Yellow eyes dilated into thin cat-like slits as the most delicious scent he had ever smelled wafted into his nostrils. His previous quarry, the dear, lay forgotten at his feet. His massive body trembled with an animalistic want... A need to possess whomever this scent belonged to. Wickedly curved claws retracted in the hard dirt, caking up huge clumps as he took off...

...

Paul turned and headed back towards the village. He hummed an old tune he had picked up from one of the pubs as he picked his way over the sharp, jutting rocks spread across the clifftop. He winced every now and then when they nicked his feet, but didn't mind too much as it healed almost instantly. He took a deep breath, tasting the salt in the air at the back of his throat. A wave of longing hit him then. This cliff it reminded him of the one back home where he, Sam and Jared cliff-dived from. He missed his best friend and Sam...

Sam was gonna pissed as fuck when he got back... Not to mention Jared, the bastard would probably punch him in the face on sight! Not that he didn't deserve it of course – he'd just up and disappeared on them three months before his 17th birthday. Hadn't written a single note, hadn't called, matter of fact, he hadn't even tried to contact them in any way! He felt a little bad about that. He should have at least called once. But his mind was just... in a mess. He couldn't handle being around the pack after he'd read those letters, let alone when he came into his inheritance on his birthday...

'Damn her...' he silently cursed at the woman he loved above all else. He knew deep down he didn't mean it but it sure as hell felt good to blame someone...His anger suddenly drained away, leaving his chest feeling cold hollow. He couldn't blame a dead woman now could he? Let alone the only person who had ever loved him before the pack... Paul felt a sharp pang in his chest at the thought of his mother. No, he couldn't blame her for his current... confusion; after all, she had died before she got the chance to tell him the truth.

He felt so... lost damn it! And who the hell wouldn't after finding out what he did! He was- Paul let out a string of curses as he savagely kicked an empty coke can. He glared at the thing as it fell with a hollow clang a few feet from him. When he really thought about it, it wasn't so bad you know. Coulda been worse, he could've been half leech. 'Ughhh,' he thought disgustedly at the thought.

There was little mention of his mother's people in America, let alone a small town like Forks, and Paul needed to know more.

Thus part of the reason he had wondered so far home. In one of his mother's letters she had written that Ireland was their homeland. So he had hoped the info on her race would be good here; but he still hadn't found shit. Not even after combing the first three floors of the central library at St. Mary's- which was HUGE. No info meant More. Effin. Travelling... and more time away from the pack...Soo...Basically he was in a bad mood yeah.

As he neared the village entrance, Paul glanced up at the sign announcing, Drogheda: St. Mary's... Such a little thing was all it took to blow a fuse.

'' -The Fuck!'' Paul groused out, snarling at the sign before him. ''Who the fuck named a town DROGheda! W...w...What breed of asshole would do something like that huh?'' He asked to no one in particular as he glared at the road. He was so frustrated...

The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly rose and his wolf bristled at the presence of something... not quite right...

Paul was suddenly very aware that he was still some ways from St. Mary's. He knew he could defend himself, but shit, if his mother's kind were real, there was no telling what other fucked up beings he could but up on in these parts...

An almost burning sensation ran across his back.

Someone...Something was watching him. The feel of its gaze made his skin crawl.

'No...' Paul corrected himself as he quickened his steps, '... not watching, stalking.' Stalking him as a predator would its prey; cataloguing him, anticipating his next move; whether he would run or try to fight...

He idly wondered if any leeches had covens in the area as he glanced warily about himself. But something told him it wasn't a leech; it was something... much worse. He wasn't sure if it was his newly awakened senses telling him so, but-

His blood was suddenly alight in his veins, burning with raging adrenalin. He was unexpectedly aware of every movement within mile long vicinity. The soft fluttering of every night bird's wing...

The silent fall of every arid leaf...

The piercing calls of every cricket as they cut across the still night air...

The crunch of every leaf beneath each foot-whether deer, rabbit or panther...

And lastly, Paul was uniquely aware of every hunter...every hunter suspended mid-spring; held in that charged second right before pouncing, his senses honing in on one in particular...

A sudden blur of movement to his left spurred him into movement, and Paul shifted without thought and ran like his life depended on it.

...

Alicyde watched avidly as the pup phased into a magnificent silver wolf, about three sizes below his own massive form. He admired how smooth the change was; seamless and without pause. Not even his own shift was that smooth and he'd had years of practice. He was impressed with how fast the boy had sensed him. Wolves far older and more experienced than the pup didn't sense him until, well... 'Until it was too late!' he surmised in amusement.

He shifted back to his human form as he basked in the lingering scent of his quarry. He would give the pup time... 'Time to run,' he thought to himself, a vicious smirk curving his lips. His gold tinged orbs glinted maliciously under the full moon's light as he tracked his prey's movement through the forest. The pup was fast...

Dark laughter tumbled from his lips, dissolving into a low moan as he envisioned the hunt; as he imagined ripping into that supple neck, feeling the warm blood slide down his throat... dripping from his claws... Venom pooled in the back of his throat as lust of the darkest kind heated his veins. Canines lengthened; cutting into his bottom lip harshly, but Alicyde barely felt it as he hungrily sucked at the blood.

He began pacing on the spot where the pup had not long ago stood, his eyes darting excitedly back and forth through the woods. Silvery moon-beams bounced off his shoulder length midnight tresses as he paced, the muscles in his thighs rippling with every stride and pivot. He couldn't see him anymore. But that was nothing, 'I can still hear him,' Alicyde mused playfully to himself. As soon as the boy went out of hearing range, that, was when the hunt began!

He raised his hand to his mouth, biting violently into it; tearing into the cartilage savagely; right down to the bone. He relished the acrid flavour of blood spreading across his taste buds as he lapped it up eagerly; not even wincing as his tongue dragged roughly over the torn skin. He stopped and held his ruined hand in front his face, head tilting to the side in a child-like fashion as he watched the flesh mend itself before his eyes with morbid curiosity. Alicyde's head suddenly snapped up; eyes alight with sadistic glee.

The pup was out of range.


Review will ya? It'll decide whether I continue this thing =_='... this year or the next. Seriously.