Buck Moon

Within a week, our home had become filled to the brim with 'witnesses'. Nomads and clans appeared from all over the world to meet Renesmee and I. Our little private world was no longer, and my sister and I's only respite was in sleep. Though many of our guests were lovely, a few even fast friends, the impending confrontation was looming over everyone. The fear was palpable, and it was suffocating. It was in our dreams, surrounded by fluffy sheets and soft lights, that we could start to breath again. The layers of vampire emotions slipped away, and the dark waves of dreams pulled us under.

How does Uncle Jasper do it? Renesmee asked me once. The immediate sadness that came with that question stopped me from answering, and her from asking again. Though the rest had returned, once their hunts for witnesses were over, the empty hole in our family was a festering wound, that didn't even have a chance to stop bleeding. It was all happening so fast, and yet we all were grieving for a future that hadn't even happened yet. And even so, once again, more surprises arrived. Two of them.

Renesmee and I were out with mother, watching her and the others train. The wolves were there that day, showing the vampires how they moved. It was Jacob's idea. If a fight did happen, then everyone should know how to rely on each other during battle. Lydia and Jacob were discussing formation when they came.

"Bella, bring the girls please," Father called. With Renesmee's hand in her left, and mine in her right, Mother flitted with us to the house. Just a few steps into the foyer stood two strange figures.

"Well, well, Carlisle. You have been naughty, haven't you?" said the taller, darker vampire of the pair. His companion smirked. His hair was bright, even whiter than his skin, which was paler than any other vampire I'd seen, portrait or not. His scarlet eyes shifted over Renesmee, and flickered to me. I became perfectly still. Our gazes met, and the world faded away.

It was dark at first. Reminiscent of me falling asleep. It was like I'd shut my eyes, waiting for the first hint of a dream. There was no sweet decent in this, but a solid plunge. Flashes of white flickered across my vision. Short silver locks, and black iridescent curls, blowing in the wind as the landscape behind flickered past in a mirage of earthy colors.

A flash of orange. A sunset, upon a land of vibrant greens. Tall buildings cut into the sun, unable to truly see against the light.

A large figure appeared and the light softened to the early dew of morning bright. A soft smile of gentile lips, crinkling paper skin below unseen eyes, and large satin hands around mine.

A ring on the middle finger of an unknown right hand, with an unrecognizable crest. It's jewel changed from red to royal blue.

A dark figure, in rage, as it tears apart a pale figure in the sharp light of torches. Dead eyes staring into mine before being consumed by fire.

A crowd of faces, watching and waiting. Family.

The sight cut away and I stared at a strangers familiar white locks. Scarlet eyes no longer looked into mine. The strangers were speaking to Carlisle. They were staying, and the others didn't appear happy about it. I couldn't say I felt the same.

They joined the next time the wolves came to train. Renesmee sat upon Jacob's back, soft fur tickling between her fingers. His large eyes shifted across the glade, silently giving orders to his pack while Father took and shared what he thought would help our vampire friends.

Mother was crouched at the center, surrounded by two wolves. Sam and Leah. I watched from the side, perched upon a mossy rock, observing and quiet. Ever since the strange 'vision' had happened, I'd become subdued. I didn't know what to make of it, let alone if there was anything to understand.

Everyone was so high strung, ill at ease, I didn't want to add anything to their minds. There'd been no repeat of the event since, so I tried not to put too much thought into it, but it seemed out of my control. Each time I saw their faces, the images would lift from the back of my mind. A constant slide show behind my eyes.

At first, I actively avoided the two remaining members of the Romanian coven. Wherever they were, I wasn't. As soon as white hair or dark locks appeared, I flitted away. Renesmee, of course, was the first to notice. We were once glued to the hip, and now there was an emptiness at our sides. Her thoughts concerned Father, who started noticing my leaving. Soon, there'd be questions.

So, I stopped running, but I was quiet. Renesmee was curious, but didn't pester me since I'd returned to her side. But, now, instead of fear, I was curious. With the constant reminder of my strange vision around me once again, I wanted to know more. That's why, that afternoon, I found myself sitting near the two Romanians, who chose to observe instead of participate.

"Caius will not react well to these creatures," said the deep voice of Stefan to his companion, Vladimir. Vladimir hmm'd in agreement. Their eyes watched the pack intensely. Studying.

"Look how naturally they move in their bodies. Did this alpha inform us that some changed not but a few days ago?" Vladimir turned to his brother, the question intimately quiet. So quiet, in fact, that others outside ten feet of them could not hear. Besides me, the closest was Carlisle, who stood a good twenty away. No one payed them any mind.

"It would seem that these vârcolaci are tied to our kind, sensing us before truly knowing we are here, if what Carlisle says is true," Stefan said. Jacob had shared his worries with Renesmee, and so to me, about the shifting members of the tribe. Never before had the Quileute's seen their people turn so young: Collin and Brady being only thirteen years old. Renesmee tried comforting Jacob, but we could not truly sympathize, for we had no true understanding of what being 'young' truly was, at least by human standards.

"The ways of these vârcolaci seem primarily instinctual, fratele meu," said Vladimir, turning to his companion. From behind Stefan's shoulder, the blond caught my eyes with his. For some reason, I did not look away. For some reason, he did not look away either.

"I would like to know more about these Quileutes. There is much here to be learned," Stefan mused. Stefan did not turn at all after this, even though his brother continued to study me right beside him. After a while I became emboldened.

"What you said earlier," I said in a voice not as quietly, but not risen in a way to alarm, "about Caius. You said that he won't react well to the pack, why?" One of Vladimir's pristine silver brows arched. Stefan turned around slowly to look upon me. I swallowed, a nervous habit I'd learned from Mother. She told me it was an old human thing she would do, one that hadn't left with her transition.

Vladimir smirked at me.

"Caius, you see suflețel, is not very fond of vârcolaci," said Stefan.

"Werewolves," Vladimir explained when he saw the confused look on my face. The translation sounded stuffy in his mouth. Probably as stilted as vârcolaci would sound in mine.

"The Quileutes are not werewolves, though," I corrected and paused, "but you are saying that werewolves do indeed exists."

"Da. That these people are shifters, matters not to Caius, suflețel," Stefan said, "they appear in a wolfish form. Something the Volturi only know the Copii ale lunii to do."

"The Children of the Moon," Vladimir dramatically translated, his accent thick on the words.

"Garish beasts of the night. Half man and half wolf. They turn under the full moon, and for the entire night destroy anything in sight," Stefan said.

"Vârcolaci," said Vladimir. At this the two brother turned towards the grove again, officially ending the conversation. Fighters and observers had switched positions. Jacob now was at the center, and Renesmee in Mothers arms off to the side. They both watched intently as another round started.

"Now, Peter, notice the way the wolves will corner you between them," Father said, his voice oddly clear. I turned towards him and nearly jumped when I found his eyes locked on me. No, not me. Father was staring at the Romanians. His eyes glanced between us several time.

When neither Vladimir nor Stefan showed any interest in talking again, Father's eyes turned away. Every now and then he would look, but after some time the two vampires joined in on one of the rounds. They said nothing as Father, and Jacob, instructed them where to move and when.

The mood of the clearing had shifted. Hardly anyone asked questions, nor volunteered information or suggestions. All eyes were staring at Vladimir and Stefan, gazes cold and hard. No one trusted them. My eyes looked over Carlisle, who's face was taunt. Why let them stay then?

Stefan and Vladimir left the clearing when the staged battle was over. All watched as they retreated back to the house. Not a word was spoken as two members from the Scottish clan took their places at the center of the field. Training continued.