xxxxxx
It had been three weeks now since the disappearance of Mrs. Amilia Kennedy after she packed
up a simple hiker's gear to explore the closest national park; White Stag. No one was expecting for th
e young, healthy, and seemingly happy woman to never return out of the park's entrance. All she left
behind was a barely furnished apartment, and a mystery of what happened to her. Only just moving i
nto town about a month prior, sure, White Stag had its fair share of wildlife and rough terrain to scou
r before getting to the base of a set of twin mountains called the Garrock Tips. But even then, their h
eight was only enough to look over the town.
Search parties of most of the forest didn't turn up any trace of Amilia. Not even a body to account for
the mystery she was stirring up. And, boy, did it stir the rumors up. Like a pot of boiling water filled t
o the brim, it seemed like everyone had their own idea of what happened to her. Some said it was her
lack of experience in the wilds of White Stag. Others gossiped about how she had come to town in hop
es of escaping some sort of trouble. But the most spoken about was the mysterious, supernatural bein
gs that resided in the parks' ground. As silly as it sounded, the idea that some creatures in old folk lor
e were to blame. Yet no rumor or idea was left unconsidered when it came down to finding Amilia. W
hether that was dead or alive was unknown.
Her presumed death was announced on local news channels, drawing in a few new faces in its wake. S
mall town Oxbrook was getting the most attention it ever had previously. Now, with that in mind. Som
e folks had made Oxbrook their home to get away from the hustle and bustle that was now being bro
ught to their doorsteps. People wanting to know what happened to Mrs. Kennedy. News cameras see
med around every corner wanting the people to speak on the stranger who had barely made herself a
t home there.
It didn't take long for the whole 'werewolf' situation to get wafted into the ears of one of the news a
nchor men. Who wouldn't want to try and drag out a story like that? 'New Stranger Goes Missing to W
erewolves in National Park'. 'Stranger Killed By Supernatural Beings', 'Werewolves Out For Blood?'. It o
nly needed evidence... But a hook? Who wouldn't be hooked. The idea of werewolves being real, let
alone killing innocent women who venture into a well known national Park seemed a little too storybo
ok.
The day was a rather chilly fall day, the sun was hiding behind a thick blanket of monotone grey hues
which only made things a lot colder. The wind was just light enough it didn't tousle the leaves in the t
rees around and knock them from their resting places on the crisping branches. Winter was almost re
ady to pounce on them. The forecast spoke of possible snow flurries in the future weeks and to make
sure you bundled up. In the shop windows, store owners were seen laying out strings of Christmas ligh
ts, other festive decorations in the seasons changing.
To Uggi this was by far the best time of the year. He loved the chill in the wind, it offered him slight r
elief from his natural warm-blooded nature. Being a wolf offered the older male a bit of extra omph w
hen the cold season's swung around the corner. If it was up to him he would have rather preferred to
travel about in a simple pull-over hoodie, or a zip-up for that matter. But, nonetheless, he had found
himself wearing a few layers of clothing to appear more natural to the other citizens. Nothing to fan
cy, no. Uggi was more of a simple but comfy dresser. A plain t-shirt, an umber brown flannel, and a de
nim jacket to top it off. As far as pants went, the nearly thirty-year-old wore some dark denim jeans
a belt, and some scuffed up brown combat boots. Luckily enough, none of his clothes suffocated him f
rom the fresh air around him.
In his hands, a paper cup filled with steaming hot chocolate, not that a cup of coffee wouldn't have s
ufficed his mature taste buds. Some days, a cup of hot chocolate satisfied more then a cold days chil
ls and rather soothed the memories that bit at his heart.
Blowing out a small breath, he blew at the small opening of his cups cap, Uggi made his way down th
e sidewalk. Subconsciously keeping mind of his surroundings, but it was all too easy in the town he had
called home his entire life. The wolf could walk these streets in his slumber and still know where he was
heading. He had no desire to bump into a news anchor prying for his opinion on the whole Mrs. Kenne
dy disappearance/murder. What he didn't particularly appreciate was all the poking everyone seemed
to be doing around White Stag, where the pack resided as their primary location. Their home was a li
ttle place just inside the forest land. Approved by the mayor way back when the pack's alpha's had as
ked permission a few hundred years ago.
The pack had no visitors from the pesky news since it was approved private territory. But it didn't stop
them from trying a few times. Uggi just hated the stress it was undoubtedly caused to the rest of his
little family.
In his other hand, Uggi clasped onto a small wrinkly paper sack filled with some baked treats that he
figured the others would enjoy on a dreary day. Surely some freshly baked goodies would perhaps brin
g some smiles to their faces. A small sip of the steamy, brown, chocolaty goodness warmed his inside
s as his travel brought him to the National Park entrance. Weathered old wood held up a sign of 'Whi
te Stag' and close by its gates were some simple hiking rules; no leaving trash laying around, only ca
mping in designated areas, don't feed wildlife, etc. His trail was painstakingly loud for his agile wol
f to prefer. Uggi was far louder in this form than his other. But it would have to do. He wasn't close t
o finishing his scolding drink and he spent good money in getting the pack something as well.
His nostrils could pick up the markers around the border that other humans would be clueless of, h
e was entering their territory. The closer he got to their place of residence, the stronger their scent
was getting. Of course, it was only natural for their smell to increase the closer and closer they were
to where central living quarters were established.
Fumbling with the bag, he found himself struggling some to open the door of the little home. His ha
nds rather full, Uggi had to set the little paper sack aside a moment as he gently held the door ajar,
slipping his shoe in the opening. The dark-haired male then grabbed the bag once more and made hi
s way inside. He wondered just how many of his pack mates would be home... No doubt they were p
robably stressed with the unneeded attention the park was getting.
