Before the Storm

Althea Willow was a hippie child. There was no other way to describe her. She had flaming red hair which she wore down and messy, but it suited her just fine, thank you very much. She walked around barefoot, unless her mother made her put on shoes, and always had her head in the clouds. Her green eyes gave away her every emotion; her soul was as pure as virgin snow. She could be found lying in the grass staring at the sky on any given afternoon.

She was the essence of getting back to nature.

Paul was a hot head. He was young and foolish and had no abandon. He lived for the moment and never thought about his actions. His friends, namely the rest of the Wolf Pack, were more grounded. They knew their limitations and considered their actions. Paul got way too crazy, way too easily. He loved walked around with a shirt on in the rain, he loved being a 'bad boy'.

He was the essence of breaking all the rules.

_____________

"Althea?" her mother called to her as she was finishing the dishes from breakfast. She glanced out the window over the sink and saw her daughter sitting in the front yard with her rabbit in her lap. She called her again and Althea's head snapped in her direction.

"Yeah?"

"Could you bring this dish back to Sue's?" she asked and held up a blue baking dish. Althea smiled, nodded and set her rabbit back on the ground and came inside.

"Sure can do, mama," she smiled and reached for the dish. She wrapped in her small hands, gave her mother a kiss on the cheek and ran out the door over to the Clearwaters'.

"Put on some shoes!" Vivian yelled after her daughter. She knew it was hopeless, but couldn't help but smile anyway. She loved Althea very much, but sometimes being a single parent hard. As soon as Althea was born, her father was out of her life and never to be seen again. Althea didn't mind, but then again she had never known anything besides having one parent.

"Hello?" Althea called when she arrived at the Clearwater household. She shrugged and walked inside and headed for the kitchen. She didn't see anybody so she assumed everyone was busy. She set the dish down on the counter and wrote a quick note on the small whiteboard tacked onto the refrigerator.

She started to walk out the door when she bumped into someone. She let out a small laugh at her own obliviousness and stood up and brushed off the yellow dress she was wearing.

"Sorry," she smiled and looked to see who she had collided with, "oh!"

"Just watch out," Paul grunted and sidestepped her and walked into the house. Althea stared at his retreating back, and didn't feel like finishing the conversation just then.

"Bye Paul!" she called and waved. She didn't hear him say anything back, but as she got further down the driveway she could swear she heard him call her a wannabe.

That was Paul's favorite thing to call Althea. Why? Because she and her mother weren't Quileute. They weren't even Native American, unlike everyone else on the La Push reservation. After Althea was born, seventeen years earlier, her mother had wanted a new start. She wanted to raise her daughter in a quiet, peaceful, friendly environment. That's when she met the Clearwaters. They had their own small daughter and they knew of local jobs around the reservation; and a house that was available. Ir fit all of Vivian's needs, so she took the opportunity and started a new life for herself and her daughter.

Most of the people that lived on the reservation had no problem welcoming the Willows' into their hearts and homes. They weren't locals, they weren't Natives, but they were kind and good people, who everyone loved. After seventeen years, Althea was friends with just about everyone in La Push. Except Paul. He couldn't stand her for whatever reason and had no problem letting her know that. And reminding her that she wasn't Quileute. But, Althea had learned to brush it off, and live with it. After all, nobody could be liked by everyone.

That was before the storm came.