Don't Go Out in the Woods Tonight...

The kitchen was nice. The black marble counter top and the dark cherry wood cabinets look perfect together. As far as kitchens go, this one was very wonderful.

"You hungry, or are you just going to stare at my fridge?" Troy says, humor thick in his voice.

I dramatically stumble towards the fridge and grasp the handle. I give a little tug and then turn back to Troy.

"Too... weak..." I whisper, pulling and pushing helplessly at the door. "Feed... me... Please."

"Aww..." Troy smirks and pats my head softly, "Poor thing."

Then his arms grasp around my waist swiftly and I'm suddenly placed on the island of the kitchen. Troy opens the door of the fridge and starts to assembly the fixings for some food.

I sit patently while Troy works around me. Every once in a while he looks up and out on of the windows. Casually, but with purpose. I roll my eyes each time he does it.

"Nothing is going to eat me." I say, a laugh in my voice.

Troy sets the plate down forcefully and my smile falls from my face. Troy looks at me, his eyes dance with gold, and I worry.

Not for me. No, Troy would never hurt me. But for anyone and anything that would want to hurt me. Be that man or beast. Some inner fire within Troy shines out of him with a fierce glow that seems inhuman.

He places his hand, gently, on either side of my face, drawing us together. My eyes can't leave his; the gold and silver swirl around, instantly captivating me and pulling me into a trance.

"Kate, I need you to understand something." His voice lower and more of a rumble than I had ever heard it.

"What?" My own voice is a squeak, a pale little sound.

Then his eyes turn back to their normal color, and a little smirk tugs on the corner of his mouth. My worried expression turns to annoyance as Troy starts laughing. He takes his hand away from my face and leans against the fridge.

"You are a crazy, no-good..." I yell at him "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!?"

Troy looks up at me and his smirks widens. Maybe. Maybe, I am. is written all over his face, and he knows it, too.

Scrrrrrrrrrratch.... Scratch...

Some sound from the back door makes me freeze. Troy steps towards me, and puts a hand on my knee. Then the scratching at the back door is accompanied by whimpering.

Whimpering? What is going on here?

I look at Troy. My eyebrow arches, silently asking the question roaring in my head. Troy smile and pats my knee. He walks over and opens the door.

Have you ever seen a stampede? Like not on the T.V., but a really one? Of anything? Well, it is pretty interesting. You're wondering why I've strayed from the subject, aren't you?

Troy opens the door and a stampede of four huge dogs scramble into the kitchen. My eyes grow wide and I pull my feet up onto the counter with me. Not that it helps. The dogs’ heads come to the top of the counter where I'm sitting.

Troy strokes each of them and walks over to the fridge. He tosses a glance at me. His head tilts to the side regarding me.

"They won't hurt you" He says, carefully.

Easy for youto say. You’re bigger than they are. I'll get swallowed whole if I get off this counter. I mean look at those things! They look like wolves!

My silent argument causes me to shake my head furiously. Warm, strong finger grip my shoulders, then slide to the base of my neck. Those finger trace up my neck and clasp my face, gently.

"Kate, I wouldn't lie to you."

I look up and Troy gives me a little kiss on the cheek.I sigh and bounce off the counter and the four dogs quietly and softly draw in my scent. I feel their noses trailing the hem on my jeans and the laces of my shoes.

"What are they?" I ask.

"Mixes." Troy says, taking my hand and the plate of lasagna and walking to the dining room.

"Mixes of what?" My body stops shivering and I begin to relax.

"Um... Irish wolfhound and uh..." Troy looks at one of them, who has lost interest in me and now stares at him with big brown eyes. "Wolf."

I cough. I look up at him and question his sanity, my own sanity already gone. He looks at me and smiles.

"Really? They're half wolf?" I look at them. Each animal has finished sniffing and finds a spot on the floor to rest.

"They're half Irish Wolfhound, too." Troy says, a smirk playing on his voice.

"What animal shelter gave them to you?" Question flow out of my now, in mild curiosity.

"I found them. In the forest." Troy says moving into the kitchen and return with two glasses of water. "And before you ask, that means, yes, there are wolves in the woods."

"Cool. Like that big black scary bear thing." I say, a calm and peaceful feeling slides though my body as I watch the four dogs, "Do they have names?"

Troy smirks and nods. I look at him, and his smirk widens. He isn't going to tell me. When my mind comes to this, Troy laughs a little under his breath. I stick my tongue out at him and then go back to eating.