Chapter 1 - The Awakening.
Ivory's Point Of View.
Paws were lurching back and forth, splattering mud and debris everywhere in sight. So many of them, it was as if a million wolves were all there at once, all moving as one as if they were hypnotised to do so. You'd think that with a legion of muscular barons around I'd be dumbstruck and trying to catch their attention, but No. A particularly lithe baron catches my eye - standing way back from the others, secluded and distant. Just watching the world go by with obsidian black eyes that seem as deep as an endless pit. His silken, starched white fur is pristine even with the thousands of visitors that made a mess of the clearing, and a single black marking up his left foreleg is the only imperfection of the ivory ringlets. His face seems almost solemn, vacant, as if this whole charade with the army returning is just a normal day, a everyday occurrence that he has seen a million times before. There is a strange but very evident wisdom to his young face, making him seem a bazillion times older in years but not any older looking in appearance. He fascinates me, I must talk to him. Slowly I weave my way through the crowd; I'm just a few paw steps away from him and . . .
Beep Beep. My alarm clock babbles beside me, Great I think, another wolf dream that seems so real yet so omnipotent. I grumble, refusing to open my eyes as I fumble around for the ‘Snooze' switch. The beeping is giving me a headache. Reluctantly I open my sleep-crusted eyes and look at the time as I flick the switch, 8:30. Great, I've over slept by two hours. How come nobody came to wake me up? Oh, right. Because they would have been at the classes I was meant to be in if I weren't so sleep deprived because of all those vivid dreams! I hurriedly, but still lethargically heave myself from my bed and fling whatever I can find from my wardrobe onto me. When I look down I see I'm wearing a short-ish navy pencil skirt and a white blouse with a brown belt. Eh. It's classy? I pull my golden-hued hair up into a high messy bun, slap on some mascara and head out. I'll shower later.
I rush into Maths 20 minutes late and wish that I had that invisibility cloak from Harry Potter that could conceal me from the judgemental eyes of my peers, and worse, Professor Lincoln. I slide into my seat, my eyes practically burning a hole in the floor as I whisk out my books and start reading them as if I had been in the room the entire time, and then I hear him clear his throat in the way that I know all too well, the punishment speech is heading my way.
"Miss Hampstead, So glad you graced us with your presence. What was it this time? Tied to the bed by goblins? Transported into the land of unicorns and held prisoner? Or my favourite, your alarm clock was stolen by pixies and you were sent to go and find it or your mother would die?" Mr Lincoln smarmily taunted me, willing me to make an utter fool of myself like the many times before. I wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction of watching me squirm.
"No, Sir. I just slept in. Sorry." I said with an innocent look plastered on my pretty face, I knew this would drive him crazy.
"Detention. Tomorrow after school." Mr Lincoln snapped, slamming the book with the questions he had been writing on the white-board down into his desk, his face flushed like a tomato.
"Fan-Bloody-Tastic." I mumbled under my breath, sarcasm dripping from it as if it were ketchup spilling from a fat-guy's burger. Luckily, Lincoln didn't Hear me. And after many tedious equations and even more tedious lectures from Mr Lincoln the bell finally rang and I flung myself at the door as if it were my only lifeline.
Out in the corridors I manoeuvred my way through expertly through the various clićs and groups to find my locked, It was lunch break now, I had missed the whole of the first three periods! I bet that won't be the only detention I get this week. I click open my locked, not noticing anybody around me and check my reflection in the mirror. I look like I've been dragged backwards through a bush, my makeup is untidy around my pale lilac eyes, my hair looks like a whirlwind had just occurred and don't even mention my outfit, please. Let's just say it was a bad day to wear a black bra. I get sick of looking at myself and exchange books and slam my locker door shut, well, if you can call a girly shove a slam. I pivot around to the right and go head-first straight into Toby, who just chuckled and smiled down at me with that grin that always managed to calm and sooth me.
"Hey, Toby" I chirped, a lot happier now that he was around. Let's just say we've been best friends since we were born, literally. Our mother's met in the delivery room, and I was born exactly a minute before him, or that's what I'm told. Whenever I ask about my childhood my mum is kinda vague, and when I ask Cindy, Toby's Mum about it, she says that my mother should be the one to tell me those things.
Toby looped an arm causally around my petite shoulders and beamed down at me, his dancing dark eyes glimmering brighter than any star in the night's sky, "Hey, Oldie." He beamed back, a smirk forming wider upon his handsome face. That's always been his pet name for me, because of the minute between my birth and his. When I look at him, I see him as a friend, my best friend, almost like a brother. Whereas other girls are throwing themselves at him, earning me some dirty looks as we walk down the corridor. Is it weird I don't see him that way? Also, he treats me way better than everybody else. With another guy or girl he's solitary, sarcastic and rude. But he treats me like the queen of Sheba. Oh well, I guess I should be grateful that he chose me, or rather, we chose each other. I stopped daydreaming and realised he was still talking. "Mr Lincoln really gave you a battering today, Harsh. Do you want me to come and protect you after school?" He commented quickly, almost as if he were teasing me. Rolling my eyes I gave him a soft fake-punch against his muscular chest. "I think I can survive one detention all on my own, thanks." I said dryly, though inside I was unsure. I had a unsettled feeling in my stomach that something bad was about to happen, and it would be when I least expected it.