Déjà vu was thought to be the end of her, a dream so consistent and tangible becoming much more persistent as the days flickered by.

“Mother, will you be alright here?” Alister asked, leaning in and brushing against the side of her neck. Already, the male’s stomach ached from the absence that had yet to be endured. He worried about the welfare of Jenna, despite knowing that his next move was one every mother and son had to adjust to. But her eyes were steady with not a drop of doubt and caught the light of a peaking sun just as it swept through the trees. She knew her sons unbridled affection for her and more then anything else it seemed that Jenna wanted to watch her son move on. It brought the aging girl satisfaction knowing that, unlike her mother and father, she would get the chance to see grandchildren; to be a nana.

She knew why her son worried the most of course, and that was the disappearance of their father and her mate Tristan. Certainly Jenna missed the only love of her life, the first to have taken her heart and soul completely but what could be done about it now? After losing herself in the illusion of a perfect happily ever after, it seemed right to toughen up in front of her caring son and show him, and the world, that she would not be taken down by one mistake. Her placid smile trademarked for its mystery and simultaneous comfort brought Alister to his conclusion in the end, and with that he left.

Jenna refused to walk the path of yet another tragic love story, where the male romps off and the injured female rots. But it begins with a hunt, the strongest portrayal of solidarity and an attraction to it. Her eyes trail down her right forearm as the ruby stained fur brushes against the dark brown face of an oak tree. Jenna’s uneven breaths grow wild while the midday heat beats up on an already tired wolf. As the pain pushes past the shock, Jenna tries to push past the foliage in unison but it only gets her so far...

Her sobs were a mixture of pain and grief. For all the months Jenna had kept her sorrow to herself, in an instant they pooled out onto her wounded paw and into the open. It pained her to sit amongst the vegetation alone, waiting for the pain to ease, but it was not the only thing that bothered her in the moment. What would happen if the injury worsened, and suddenly the gash turned into a festering wound; what would her children do without their mother to return home to? How would they ever know?

Perhaps the greatest loss would be for Jenna to die having never gotten the chance to say goodbye to all of her children. Hiccupping, wheezing, rolling and spreading the blood across strewn leaves Jenna tried to overcome the sudden, frantic episode. Life was her only option, but with only her prey around…life looked like the longest walk down the longest hallway.

It started with a hunt gone horribly wrong. A swift kick to the arm by an even swifter buck, and all the hours put into strengthening her outter shell are turned to minutes of facing her darkest demons.