Cry for the Moon

Jordan

As I turned the corner into the dining hall, I was forcefully, thrown to the ground. Jordan. My pain in the arse best friend and potential future beta, always the first to my side. I’m surprised he wasn’t by my hospital bed when I awoke. Nope, instead he decided to wait till I was out of hospital to launch me to the floor and probably give me a concussion!

“Allllliiiiiiii!!!! Are you ok? What happened!? Dad wouldn’t let me come see you! Ridiculous right? I’m your best friend! Wait, why didn’t you take me with you? I could of helped save the day. You know I’ve always wanted to be a hero!”

I rolled my eyes and pushed him off me, huffing in response to his barrage of questions. He seemed to sense my unease and calmed himself, sidling up to me.

“I’m sorry Alia, I didn’t mean to attack you like that. Did I hurt you?”

I looked down at him and sighed,

“It’s ok Jo, you didn’t hurt me. It’d take more than a knock to the floor to injure me, you know that!” I chuckled and playfully nudged him away. That cheered him up, he beamed his usual bright smile at me and proceeded to drag me to the table.

“Time to eat! You need to get your strength back. It’s normally not that easy to knock you down, even on my super hyper days. You need sustenance stat!”

Well, the calm Jo was nice whilst it lasted I guess. I watched him as he hurried to the kitchen to see what food he could pull together for me. He was the kindest soul I had ever met. A little older than my brother and I, but absolutely crazy, he quickly worked his way into our hearts. He was shorter than most of us, with mid length grey hair and a beard that made him look older than he was. He always made us smile, whenever he was around, cracking jokes or telling us random facts about nature. He loved all things nature and made a point of gaining any knowledge he could about animals, trees or insects. I even spotted him making feeding tables for squirrels a few weeks ago. He was definitely quirky and he didn’t care.

As he came back into the dining hall, I noticed his hair. Queue the eye roll. There, nestled on his head was a black, shiny, plastic headband, pushing his hair back, sending it in random directions. Definitely quirky. At this moment, father walked in , pushing his phone into his pocket and plastering on a fake smile. He must have been talking to someone in the dungeon if he was using he phone. The torturous dungeons are laden with silver and wolfsbane, not to kill but to repress any wolf and encourage honesty. With combined iron and silver chains they can be held captive without being burnt too badly and wolfsbane painted on the walls, they cannot mind-link or sense their wolf. Guessing thats where the three buttheads were and they weren’t talking much as dad didn’t look happy. What about the one who was immune though? The one with no wolf. The dungeons would still hold him as he surely cannot break iron or brick. But I suppose the only torture for him, would be the smell and screams. After I’ve eaten, I want to visit him and see what I can get out of him, he knows something. I was pulled out of my thoughts by hand waving in my face.

“Yoohooo! Wakey wakey daisy head! Your food is here, made by the best chef in the world... Moi of course!”

I swear I’m going to get some sort of eye sprain from the constant eye rolls today.