A Midnight Run In. (Shaylyn)

(Continuation from Southern Tribe, Among the Trees...)

Shaylyn was carrying Melanie into the Human city of Zalsabad, home, after finding her trespassing on Werewolf territory, weak, barely able to stand. Despite Melanie's weakened state, she had challenged the member of the Werewolf military to a duel once Melanie had recovered. Shaylyn's proud proclamations of her fighting abilities left Melanie with the itching desire to find out which of them was better; as Melanie knew she could fight well too, so long as she wasn't in a weakened state.

With Shaylyn agreeing to the duel, Melanie grinned wildly; too excited to contain it. Her expression could be described as seeming somewhat malevolent in nature; though she didn't intend it that way. "What would be the point of a fight if you were to hold back?" she asked, simply. She meant she had no expectation Shaylyn would hold back, nor did Melanie want her to. She couldn't prove anything of her own abilities to this Werewolf if the Werewolf didn't give it her all.

Once they arrived at Melanie's doorstep, Melanie realized Shaylyn wasn't going to simply let her down and leave. It was obvious to the both of them Melanie was in no shape to stand on her own two feet at the moment. Without a word, Melanie unlocked the door for Shaylyn to carry her in.

Her home was cool as the fireplace hadn't been lit for a few hours now. It made Melanie shiver. Set up before the fireplace was a large soft couch; the type you sank into slightly upon sitting down. Melanie had quite a few nights where she'd drink herself drunk and pass out on that couch. Now was not the time to think back on those thoughts, however. Between the couch and the fireplace was a solid wooden table; varnished and smooth. Atop stood a vanilla scented candle.

The home was small, comfortable for one person; cozy for two. It had a cabin feel to its interior. Rustic and homey. You sort of expected a permanent aroma of bacon and eggs to radiate from the kitchen throughout the house. Though, instead, it smelled of scented candles and her girly perfumes. It was unmistakable this was a girl's home from the collection of scented soaps in the bathroom, to the makeup behind the bathroom mirror, the scented candles throughout the house, and the red hearts on the white blanket atop her bed in the bedroom.

"Would you like anything for your troubles? Some water at least? Or a seat? I really appreciate what you've done tonight. So, I would like to repay you somehow; even if simply by allowing you to rest a moment before you walk right back out the door." Melanie was surprised, despite her previous urge to get rid of Shaylyn as soon as possible upon her entrance into Melanie's home, she now felt grateful, indebted, and cared about how exhausted Shaylyn might be from the trek.

"The kitchen is straight ahead if you want a drink. I have glasses in the cabinet, the tap for water, and I have some bottles of alcohol if you feel you need a drink. But if you pour from one of those, you better share with me," she chuckled weakly. "The bathroom is down the hall to the right and the first door on your left. My bedroom is at the end of the hall and is off-limits. Unless you're feeling a little frisky, that is." Melanie winked, playfully joking.

"At any rate, even if you do hate me, I can live with that. I just want you to know I don't hate you. I respect you... thanks." It was awkward due its sincerity. Melanie wasn't always great at conveying heart-felt sincerity.

Shaylyn opened up the door and looked around with a disgusted expression. It wasn't because the house looked bad. No. In fact it was a rather nice looking house. There was a fireplace, which was cold now, and a bathroom and a kitchen and a couch~ But the reason that her nose wrinkled in disgust was from all the scents in the house. They attacked her nose like it was some kind of mission to seek and destroy the werewolf. There were scented candles everywhere and the smell of perfumes came leaking from other places. Shaylyn was sure that this girl had scented toilet paper. Like hell she was going to wipe her butt with something like that. How did this girl live like this? It was like stepping into a...well a girl's house. This was not how Shaylyn would ever live. She was a rough and tumble kind of girl, not a....well this kind of girl. It made her sick.

But she was still holding Melanie and she needed to do something to make sure this girl was going to turn out alright. Why? They were going to fight. If this girl didn't live, then she wasn't going to be able to fight Shaylyn at a later date. And to the werewolf, that was the most important thing in the world. So she quickly walked over to the couch and put the weaker girl down. "Alcohol is always good. I'll pour you some and me some and then get the house smelling....like food. Just rest. I got this."

Shaylyn walked into the kitchen and pulled down some glasses down for the wine or whatever was in these bottles. Walking over to the sink, she put the glasses down and pulled the cork off with her teeth. No reason to look for a cork when this was just as easy. Pouring the liquid into the glasses, she yelled back to Melanie. "What do you like to eat? I can't cook that well. Link can. He's a fantastic cook. He makes a whole bunch of tasty dishes...though I can make a mean meat thing. Just throw it on the fire spit and then cook it. Ah..cooking over a campfire is great. It makes you feel so alive." Like that was going to cover up her lack of being able to cook. Maybe times her mother tried to teach her to do it. Saying something along the lines of a woman's job was to make food for her husband and the kids she birthed for him and that it is needed for a good marriage. She had even tried getting her sister-in-laws to help out in telling her she was going to have to learn one of these days. But Shay ignored them and now almost slightly wish she learned how to do a bit of something.

She walked into the living room and handed Melanie her glass and turned to the fireplace. This needed to get started. The smell of wood burning could help cancel out the smell of the toxins in this house...I mean scents. Glancing over her shoulder to the girl whom she left on the couch, she spoke again. "Where do you keep the firewood? We need to get this started."

Shaylyn's look of disgust toward Melanie's home felt natural seeing as Melanie felt she was disliked anyway. Why not dislike the home of a person you dislike? She tried not to take much offense to it.

"Food? You don't have to cook anything. I mean, unless you're hungry. If you are, the kitchen is yours. I mean, I'd insist on making you something myself, but kinda don't have the energy for it right now. I make an awesome pasta though. But I have a lot of options in there depending on how creative you want to get. I have a bit of chicken, some fish, varied vegetables, pasta and rice, of course. And all the seasonings you could possibly need." Melanie looked up to Shaylyn from the couch. "I love to cook. Just, certain days I don't feel like cleaning up afterward. So those days I opt to eat out instead," she explained.

While the house was small, it still must've cost a decent penny. And with the way she decorated and what she has in her kitchen, it appears she is fairly stable financially.

"Is Link your friend?" Melanie asked curiously. It was nice having friends, she thought, remembering back to Vincent and Vertigo. She still wondered where they were at, if they were okay, and if she'd ever see them again. "I haven't ever done much cooking over a campfire," she admitted.

As Shaylyn was in the kitchen, Melanie carefully stood with as much will as she could muster and quietly moved into the bedroom. Once there, she closed the door softly, cracked open a reserve jar of blood hidden under her bed, and drank from it. It was old, stale. She much preferred it fresh. But now was not the time to be picky. She drank enough to be completely refreshed, returned it, and then, with her energy returning, briskly changed her clothes.

Melanie walked from the bedroom and sat down on the couch just as Shaylyn was walking out of the kitchen. The timing couldn't've worked out better. Now when Shaylyn notices Melanie changed clothes, she had an excuse for leaving the room just incase Shaylyn had overheard the door or walking.

Melanie now wore sleep attire. Very soft pjs, long sleeved, with hearts all over it. Melanie was handed some wine by Shaylyn. Now it was a party. She smiled, her face slowly regaining color again thanks to the consumption of blood. "I keep extra firewood on the floor of the coat closet, over there," Melanie pointed out. It was near the front entrance.

"Thanks again for everything. You're much too kind. Even if kindness isn't your motivation."

You don't have to do anything really in this house Shaylyn thought to herself. But she didn't care. She was going to be doing something. She didn't exactly want to go home yet, and she wasn't ready to face the humans on the outside of these walls. So she was going to hang out in this place. But she would be damned if she was going to suffer with all these different scents.

Once Melanie said where the firewood was located, the she wolf went to the closet and grabbed some things. She walked over to the fireplace and started putting a few logs in as well as some tinder. Taking the matches, she struck one and threw it onto the 'fire food' and watched it burn a bit. Fire was a rather interesting thing. It was nice to watch the flames lick the air, but at the same time it was a powerful thing that could take life away. It wasn't that she was scared of it, she was respectful of it. If you had too much fear of it, that was a bad thing. Yet if you didn't have enough fear of it, you were likely to get burned. It was a delicate form of life that demanded all respect from every being in the world.

"Campfire cooking is life. Ah...if you can't cook over a campfire then you aren't a real man or woman...or werewolf. You learn really quick how to make one and matinee one. I mean if you can't keep a fire going, then how are you going to cook?" Shaylyn stood up and shrugged her shoulders. "Though cooking over one is pretty simple. Catch something, gut it, stick a stick through it, and then cook it. Simple really."

Shaylyn dusted her hands and glanced over to Melanie and raised an eye to her. Did she change clothes? Yeah she must have. That was a rather fast change. But whatever. It didn't matter really. This was her house so if she wanted to get changed, she could. So she turned to the kitchen once again and pulled out the chicken and started throwing some spices on it. "Ah...Link....Yeah I guess you could say he was a friend." As she continued on with her work on butchering the dinner....I mean cooking the food to a wonderful temperature and not making it dry what-so-ever, Shaylyn thought about it. What would be the good answer to this question? Was he just a friend? No...no he really isn't. He was the guy she was going to marry before her mother threw this whole arrange marriage with Trever fucking Valens. Link was sweet, and caring and so much better than that dick head. And he didn't do anything to push he buttons...unlike that mutt ho. Fucking Trever Valens. Why did she have to get stuck with that ass?

It wasn't until she had heard some of the chicken bones snap in her grip did Shaylyn realize she was taking her anger out on this poor dead chicken. Oh well. She finished up and threw it in the oven after she got that started. Closing the door, the she wolf grabbed some potatoes and started working on cutting those up to make mashed potatoes. And as she did, this time she spoke. "Link is another werewolf from my tribe. I had sent a challenge to the males who wanted to wed me. If they could beat me in a fight, they could marry me. There was no way I was going to marry some weak ass wolf just because they wanted to marry me. I mean after all, isn't it our jobs to have strong children? But if they lost, they had to go through the center of the village in nothing but their underwear. It wasn't like I was asking them to strip and walk around the entire tribe. I was nice enough to give them something. But no. My mother thought it was bad. Tch. What does she know? Anyway, Link challenged me and he won the fight so of course I said I was going to marry the guy. Plus he was sweet and caring and nice. Unlike the other asshole who wants nothing more than to just push my buttons." She growled at nothing in particular as she throw the cut potato wedges into the water and started to boil it.

Melanie watched as Shaylyn lit the fire. Shaylyn focused on the flames in seeming awe. It's devastating potential seemed to captivate her. Melanie had always been too busy to really focus on fire as anything more than a heat-source, light-source, and potential way to cook.

Melanie drank some wine from her glass as she listened to Shaylyn speak."Still say you should forget about honoring a family that simply wants to see you miserable. Why do you care if you're 'ruining the family name' if they can't give two shits about your happiness? But hey... that's just my two cents. I'm a bit more the type to live in the moment. If I'm not happy... I'm living life wrong. Cause there's no point in living at all if you can't find a reason to smile." Melanie's tone in her statement slowly became more and more serious as it went on until it felt like she was talking more about herself than about Shaylyn. "If I'm honest with you, I was close to wanting to end it all tonight. It's why i didn't care if you took me home or killed me. In fact, part of me had preferred the latter. But thanks to you, tonight, I have a reason to smile. So, thanks." Melanie took a long breath of sadness reflecting on her own mental state recently. "This wine also helps a bit," she added, desperately, to liven the mood again. Something in her voice shook as if she were going to cry as she spoke the last sentence, but she managed to hold it back.

Melanie decided to move on from these thoughts entirely. "You know it's already going on two in the morning; if not later. You're more than welcome to stay the night. Not sure how eager you'll be to walk home on a full stomach. Heck, now that I'm feeling a bit better, I'll even escort you home. Uhm... not that you can't make the trek yourself. But, I'm sure it would cause less suspicion among the Humans around if you were with someone else. They'd think less of what you were up to and who you were cause you'd stand out less. And don't worry, I have no intentions of sticking around the Werewolves' territory once I drop you off," she chuckled as if it was never something she was eager to do from the start. "I mean, it's just an offer..." Melanie finished as she didn't want to make Shaylyn uncomfortable at all.

Shaylyn looked into the water as Melanie spoke. Was it so easy for humans to just go off and do whatever they wanted to do? There was no way you could do that. If you didn't have family backing you up, you didn't have anything. If she ran off with Link, she would not only dishonor her family name, as well as her lover's, but she would be cutting ties with Asher, Keyro, and her father. She loved her family more than anything and would die for them. As as Melanie finished up her speech, Shaylyn sighed. "That might be good and well for you, but it's not something a werewolf can just do. My family raised me. My father taught me how to be a fighter, my brothers challenged me and fought me every step of the way. We are also apart of the military of the Southern Tribe. That in itself is something honorable to a werewolf. To be strong enough to get into it and stay on top is just something that can't be described in words. It's what you aim to do. It's what I've aimed to do my entire life."

She grew silent as she weighed the words she just spoke. Was that the only reason why she was not going to be trying to end this marriage? No there was another reason. A very big reason. And that reason was Trever himself. As much as she didn't like him, as much as she wished he was dead so she could get out of this relationship, there was something about him. Something that spoke to her. Yes they would produce great children. Two of the strongest members of their tribes coming together and giving birth to pups. That was the other reason she was here. It was her duty to give life to strong children so that her line, as well as Trever's or whoever she mated with, would continue on down the line.

Picking up the pot of boiling potatoes, she walked over to the sink and began draining the water from the pot. "And if I did try actually running off, I could bet you my entire life's paycheck that Trever would hunt me down, fight Link to the death, and then drag me home. After he got done arguing with me, he would hand me over to my family where my father would scold me and teach me a lesson and my mother would get in line for that and my two older brothers as well. And then my reputation in my own tribe would plummet and everyone would look down on me in whichever tribe I actually called home at that point. And more than likely get forced to marrying Trever right then and there. At least right now I have my own freedom here at home."

Once all the water was drained, Shaylyn started to make the mashed potatoes as she addressed the other issues. "I don't know why you would not care about living or dying. What's the point of just giving up? Death is so final. You can't get back up again and fight another day. When I die, I'm going to go down with a fight. be it in battle or when I'm older. Until then, I have to make sure I'm on the top of my game at all times. There is always someone bigger and tougher than me and one day I'm going to be good enough to knock them down a few pegs." A smirk formed upon her face as she thought of that. Yes. It was going to be nice to be able to do that one day. Like her own mother. She needed to be knocked down a few pegs. For real. "I might take you up on that offer, maybe. Let's just eat dinner first and then we'll see how I feel. Or rather if I feel like gong home tonight or making my mother worry or not. Heh...that would show her not to get me to make love letters."

"How can you love a family that cares more about the family's self-image than your happiness? If they really loved you, they'd want you happy; no matter what." Melanie stood from the couch with her glass of wine and walked over to the kitchen doorway.

"You consider this 'freedom'? Being forced to marry someone you don't know and don't like. Having to dress a certain way. Act a certain way. Just so your family doesn't lose the respect of the tribe? If you think that's freedom, then you haven't even tasted it." As Melanie spoke, she realized that that's all she's ever had; freedom. Melanie never had a higher authority to report to. Never had any peers to judge her actions. She was free to do whatever she wanted. She smirked at this. Melanie would ensure Shaylyn had a taste of real freedom. One day, she'd make sure Shaylyn had a real choice. A major life decision. One that was not influenced by family, by politics, or by peers. True freedom. Melanie was sure once Shaylyn experienced it, she'd never turn back.

"If you fled, Trever would hunt you down? What, don't think you could hold your own against him?" Melanie asked challengingly with an eyebrow raised. She held her wine in her left hand and the door frame in her right. "Is he such a good fighter that you seriously believe he could 2v1 you and Link and win?" Melanie doubted this. She thought back on what Shaylyn had said. Perhaps, more importantly, how she said it. And Melanie realized something. "You are a great warrior. I have no doubts about that. But I think I know your biggest weakness." Melanie turned so her back rest flat against the doorway and she took a sip of wine. "You are confident in battle of your own abilities. You know what you're capable of. But it's when you lack confidence. When fear creeps in. When the pressure of the situation gets to you. That's when you crack," Melanie determined. "You can't beat Trever, not because he's better than you, but because you don't believe you can beat him. And if you ran away with Link, the whole world would be against you. And the pressure would be too great; such that you would feel defenseless. Incapable of fighting at all."

"I grew up with the world against me. That's why I always fight confidently. I can fight because I have nothing to lose. I never feel the pressure," Melanie explained. "I grew up never trusting anyone..." Melanie went to take a sip of her red wine, but then looked down at it and she began to shake with rage. She then threw the glass, half-full with wine, yet, to the ground; shattering it. The wine formed a pool of red around the shattered glass. Melanie stood there quietly looking at it on the floor before her. She suddenly had nothing to say.

Shaylyn was mashing the potatoes at this point and listening to what Melanie had to say. But as she listened, most of it went more or less over her head. Why? Because it really didn't matter. This girl didn't know what she was saying so the wolf was just going to make dinner for her and shut her up. It wasn't until the last half was spoken. Did Melanie think she was a coward? It was at this point Shaylyn had stopped working. As the other girl spoke, she stood there motionless. Her hand that held the masher for the potatoes tightened around the handle until it felt that she was going to bend the metal itself.

And when the glass fell, she lost it.

Taking the pot, Shaylyn threw it across the room and glared back at Melanie. She didn't even wait for some kind of response as she marched up up in front of her, grabbed her by the shirt, picked her up slightly off the ground, and then pinned her against the wall. Her golden eyes glared down at her as a deep growl formed in her throat. "What the hell do you know about anything?" she spoke in a hushed yet firm tone. "My mother gave me a choice. Either pick someone or she would pick for me. I laughed at her and she picked someone I hated for that reason. It's not because she doesn't love me, she did it to get back at me. To make a point. And this whole world out to get you thing? Yeah that's a load of crap. Sure you might not trust anyone, however that's your fault and your damn problem. Me? I trust my friends to make the right choices. I trust my commanding officer to make a choice that won't get me or my team killed...and I trust my family above all others because they are what I treasure most of all in life."

Her lips twisted into a snarl as she continued. "And this whole me not being able to beat Trever thing?" Turning her head to the side, Shaylyn spat upon the ground. "I know what he can do. I have been fighting against him for years. Longer than I care to remember. He's beat me, and I've beat him. It depends on the situation and what's going on around us. I'm sure me and Link could beat him in a two against one scenario, but the fact of the matter is if that doesn't work, he'll just bring his entire little fucking tribe with him, or however many people it takes, just so he can bring his 'woman' home." Her grip tightened upon Melanie's shirt as Shaylyn glared at her. "And don't you ever for a moment think I am some kind of coward. Running away is a coward's move. An if you think that is how you need to solve your problems, then you need to start checking yourself before you wreck yourself. Running away is not going to solve the answer. The only way to change something is to challenge it head first and beat it. Then and only then will you know you've won. I don't know what you've done, but I know when something is going to follow me and bite me in the ass because I didn't finish it."

The werewolf dropped the other girl and growled at her. "Shaylyn Nisandern is not a fucking coward."

Melanie wore a blank expression as Shaylyn wrecked her house with a pot of potatoes, spat on her floor, and pinned her against the wall. She was already in a very depressed mood from having just connected herself as similar to her father once again, but after this burst of rage, Melanie began to compare Shaylyn with her father instead.

She slowly stood to her feet. She gazed at the broken wine glass on the floor. Melanie paid no notice to the pot on the kitchen floor with potatoes all over the wall, counter, sink and floor. She didn't even look at Shaylyn. It was impossible to tell if she even processed anything Shaylyn had said. Melanie, after a moment of silence, turned away from Shaylyn and briskly walked out of her own house, slamming the front door behind her.

What was she doing? She wanted to punch her father in the face... Shaylyn. She wanted to punch Shaylyn in the face. For everything. For the potatoes, for the outburst, for raising her by her shirt, for killing her mother... no. No, that was her father. She wanted to tear her limb from limb. Why didn't she? Melanie wondered that as she just kept walking, briskly, into the chilly night through town. She was scared, she realized. Like when she was young. She didn't help her mother because she was scared. She was scared of her father. Of his loud booming voice. Of the aggression. And... she was scared of Shaylyn. Shaylyn reminded her of her father. And so she ran away. Because after all these years, she still can't face her father. The thought of him terrifies her. The thought of becoming him sickened her. She vomited off to the side by a tree. She then pressed on not wanting to stick by it.

Where was she going? She only asked herself this now. She realized she left a total stranger in her house, alone. And to be honest, she didn't even care. It was like she ran into a giant spider in the house and decided it owned the house and left it for the spider entirely.

Shaylyn watched as Melanie ran off. Her golden eyes disgustingly watched as this girl just took the verbal beating (and somewhat of a physical if you counted getting lifted up off the floor as one) without a word. It were people like these that pissed her off the most. If Shaylyn had pulled this stunt with one of her brothers, her mother, or any other wolf in general she knew, they would retaliate back. After all, Shay just threw things against a wall and made a mess everywhere. What kind of sane person would just let someone else destroy their house? If this was hers she would definitely let the other person know they better clean this shit up now. But this wasn't her house nor was this in a place she understood.

"Humans are such cowards...." the wolf grumbled to herself as she returned back to the mess she made.

Now Shaylyn had a choice. Either she was going to clean the mess she made, she was going to leave it and go after this girl, or she was going to eat her damn chicken and just wait for this girl to come home. Well there was no way she was just going to go after the girl. Why? Because that wasn't in Shaylyn's nature. Why go running after someone who just ran away from a situation she clearly could have handled? Not worth it. So she could clean up the mess and eat her chicken. Normally she would clean up the mess, but tonight she wasn't going to bother with it. It wasn't because Shaylyn was that kind of person. No. She would most definitely clean it up. She made the mess so she would clean it. But why wasn't she doing it now? Well Shaylyn wanted to see something. If she just sat here eating the chicken and not bothering to do anything else, would this human come back home and demand her to clean up? Or would Melanie just do it herself. The wolf wanted to know what kind of person this new challenger was like.

So That was what Shaylyn was going to do. Once the chicken was done cooking, the wolf pulled it out of the over, pulled a leg off and plopped her happy little butt on the nice couch and began eating the bird. She wondered when Melanie was going to return home and she wondered what other things could be found here. Melanie said not to go into her room. Well why not just go into her room then? After all, she was pushing the limits of this little stay to begin with, what's the harm of one more thing?

So once she had finished the leg, and threw it away like a proper person, the wolf went into the room that Belonged to owner of the house and started snooping around.

Sunrise was only a couple hours away by this point. Melanie was walking through what felt like an abandoned city. Her mind went blank. There were so many reasons for her to run. So many reasons to cry. To scream. Too many. So many she couldn't organize them enough to focus on one. So instead, she did none of them. She couldn't feel any of them. Her mind overloaded. She didn't care about anything, anyone, least of all herself.

Shaylyn could destroy her home. It took almost all the money Melanie had at the time to buy it. But it didn't matter anymore. She couldn't give a crap about it. Live in it. Steal from it. Burn it. All it was to Melanie now was a piece of her past. If she could she'd erase all of it. All of her past. Drink it away. She needed more alcohol.

Finally facing the outskirts of the city, Melanie stopped; finally forced to decide whether to exit the city or turn back around. She let out a long sigh. She wasn't the camping type if she had an alternative. And it's not like she'd kill herself. She'd tried that countless times but never had the guts to go through with it. With one frustrated stomp on the ground, she spun around and headed home.

She had been gone for a good thirty-five minutes before walking in the front door.

In the meantime, Shaylyn had been looking through Melanie's room. The first thing that Shaylyn noticed was Melanie's white blanket covered in a pattern of red hearts with a red pillowcase on the pillow. The blanket oddly wasn't tucked in; in such a fashion though that seemed intentional, almost. It draped completely to the floor. Though there was a good few inches where things could be placed under the bed, the blankets perfectly covered anything that might've been hiding under there.

On Melanie's dresser, she had a dagger collection. Most of them seemed pretty standard. Likely spares if she lost any on her belt she always wore. There were a total of seven spares. Atop the dresser with the daggers was a picture from when Melanie was very young; maybe six years old. It was a family photo with her mother and father. Everyone was smiling, but something felt... off. Her father held a bottle of alcohol by the neck at his waist; as though the photo interrupted his drinking yet it was a brief photo so he didn't want to set the bottle down for it. Her mother seemed bruised around the throat, as if she had been choked. She also had a minor bruise, upon closer examination, on her left cheek from what appeared to be a violent slap. It seemed to have been mainly covered up by make-up with a decent amount of success.

Inside the dresser were many different clothes of her's. Top drawer was a bunch of lingerie. It seemed more like a collection she loved to buy but rarely touched. Next was her bras and underwear that she used on a daily basis. Even they had an element of sexiness to them. A bit revealing but not overly so. The next draw was her most formal dresses that she seemed to wear the most often, even when they didn't quite fit the occasion. She loved to get dressed up. And the last drawer was split, half for adventuring attire; durable. And half for nightwear or lounging attire. These were clothes that she'd wear when she didn't expect anyone else to see her. Therefore they were more for comfort and less for visual appeal. Upon searching through the dresser, Shaylyn found a slender real-silver ring under her nightgowns. It was hidden, but there was no clue as to why. It was intricately decorated with a beautiful feminine pattern though. It's actually surprising Melanie didn't wearing all the time considering it seemed right up her alley.

Melanie had a desk with a large mirror; a vanity. This was where she often kept all her makeup and put it on. From what Shaylyn saw, Melanie's collection of makeup was vast and organized very carefully. It was apparent Melanie took a lot of pride in it. Probably thought of it more as an art than a necessity.

Once Melanie entered, she noted the pot of potatoes still rested on the kitchen floor and the wall, sink, counter and floor was covered in drying, sticky white-stuff. She let out a long deep breath. She wondered if her guest was still in the house. She smelled the chicken. She checked the oven and was a bit relieved to notice that at least Shaylyn didn't storm out leaving it on to burn down the house. That would've been a sad way to lose the house; burned down by an over-cooked chicken. Melanie chuckled at the thought. Somehow she found humor in it when nothing else seemed to be going right. Perhaps it was more of an 'it would be just my luck' sort of laugh.

Shaylyn had quite a while to search Melanie's bedroom before Melanie had come home and heard the rummaging from the kitchen. Melanie assumed the worst immediately. Shaylyn had located the jars of blood under Melanie's bed...

This room seemed like the type of room she would find in Asher's wife's house before him and Sedar had gotten married. The makeup and vanity was so packed full of different things. How could one person have so much makeup in one place? How did one go through so much in a life time? There were so many things. More than Shaylyn through she ever would have seen in a life time. Did this girl run a circus or something? Maybe she had parties and other girls came over to put this crap on. Yeah. That had to be the reasons. There was no way on earth that this girl was putting this much on her face. She would have been walking around with five pounds on her face, right? Right.

Moving on to the dresser, the wolf looked around. What she found also disgusted her. What was with this girl? Did she go out and wear this lingerie all the time and get guys to come home with her? Was that how this worked? Again it was something she never really payed attention to. If it didn't have to do with fighting, it didn't have anything to do with her. And as for the rest of the items in it? Well it matched what she had figured out already. Melanie was one of those girls who enjoyed dressing up and hanging around the guys. One of the type of girls who used their beauty as a tool to get what they wanted instead of fighting for what she wanted. No wonder she ran off when Shaylyn got rough with her.

Maybe the only interesting thing in the entire dresser was the silver ring. It nearly gave her a heart attack. Why? Well silver hurt werewolves and she had almost touched it. One could say it was crafted with such beauty, it could rival a few other things. But if you asked Shaylyn, she would say it was the worst thing in the world and she wanted it destroyed. So as she put the clothing that was sitting on top of it back, she growled at it. Letting it know it was in the wrong by just sitting there.

Done with that, she looked on top of the dresser. This was more than likely what she wanted to look at the most. This was her ball park. Daggers. Weapons. THINGS THAT MATTERED. Though they seemed a bit standard, it didn't really matter. Shaylyn's own weapon she normally wore at her hip was just standard issued military grade weapons. Like a dagger or a sword. Nothing special. Regardless, it seemed that she kept the daggers in good condition. That was good. Believe it or not, that told the wolf a lot about Melanie as a person. Well that and everything else. But the other thing else didn't matter. The daggers were beautifully kept and the little bit of respect she had lost for Melanie came back. But only a bit.

What else caught her attention on that dresser was the picture. Three people were in it. One was a male, one was a woman, and one looked to be a younger Melanie. Was this her family? Picking up the picture she examined it. The woman seemed like she was beat up and bruised and the man looked like he was just caught in the middle of drinking. This was a terrible picture. Placing it down, Shaylyn growled at it too. Why did the woman have marks upon her skin and yet the male didn't? If Shaylyn was with that man, he would have his ass whooped. So why didn't they do something about it?

Shaking her head, she put that picture and all thoughts of it out of her mind. She had one last place to look: Under the bed.

Time had passed and Melanie had come home. When Shaylyn had heard her walking back into the kitchen, she stepped out of the bedroom, holding a jar full of blood. Her boots were loud in the otherwise silent home. But that was fine with the wolf. After all, she wanted Melanie to know she was still here and she was walking over to her. This time the roles were reversed. Melanie was in the kitchen and Shaylyn was in the doorway holding some kind of glass with a red liquid in it. "You want to explain this one?" Shaylyn asked her, holding up the jar for Melanie to see. "Your room really reflects your personality. Lots of makeup, clothing that are useless in fights, a silver ring to try and kill and or hurt a werewolf like myself as they search your room; smart move by the way. However...this is something I don't understand." The werewolf turned the jar in her hand, looking down at it. "Are you some kind of sicko that just goes out into the woods and gets people's blood? Were you planning on stealing mine when I went to bed? Or is this some kind of weird magical practice that you do?" Her golden eyes focused on it as her upper lip started to curl up. "I have heard people used to bath in this stuff because they thought that it made them look younger. That's just gross if you ask me. Or do you keep this in case you get attacked by a vampire? Those creatures are disgusting if you ask me."

As Shaylyn entered the doorway to the kitchen holding a jar of blood, Melanie's heart sank. It was exactly as she feared. She tried to play it off calmly, however. "Do you make a habit of trashing people's homes and snooping around in their personal belongings. You are quite the dinner guest," Melanie commented. It was oddly more light-hearted and amused than sarcastic and bitter. She glanced down to the pot still on it's side on the floor with potatoes everywhere. "And don't tell me you're going to let all that go to waste." Melanie was smiling now. After being raised by her shirt, after everything, she was smiling. It was like her life went to complete and total hell, so why not enjoy the ride? If everything was going to go down in flames, she was going to grab some popcorn and enjoy every second of her miserable life spiraling down the drain.

Melanie finally looked to the jar of blood Shaylyn was holding. "I don't really need to explain anything to you, you know. It's my city, my house, my bedroom... which I told you not to go in, by the way." Melanie reminded Shaylyn with a shrug. "So whatever conclusions you want to make of me from whatever you've found. You can reach those conclusions without any of my help. I don't care what you think of me. I don't care what anyone thinks of me." Melanie glanced around frantically. She then realized she smashed her wine glass on the floor earlier. "Oh... yeah. Shit." she grabbed the open wine bottle from the kitchen, uncorked it, and drank straight from the bottle, needing alcohol to begin drowning out all her emotions. After a good 3 seconds of drinking straight from the bottle, Melanie tilted the bottle to Shaylyn offering her a drink. The bottle was only filled 2/3rds by now.

This was a sudden change of personality. When Melanie had run off she was nothing but a blank slate. And yet now she was perfectly fine and smiling? Either this girl was really weird or something happened to where she was able to cope with things. Or she was hiding it. That could have been a thing too. Well whatever was going on here, Shaylyn was going to get to the bottom this one way or another. If that meant pushing her a bit, then that meant pushing her a bit. If that meant it was going to turn into another fight, then that was fine, Shay wasn't the type of girl to back away from things like that. Bring it on.

Placing the jar down upon the counter, Shaylyn glanced over at the owner of the house. "Yeah I'm not touching it. If you want to get on your hands and knees and eat it off the floor, be my guest. I'm not about that life." True it was a waste, but it was ruined now. She had the chicken still. And speaking of the chicken...Walking over to the mostly cooled piece of bird, the wolf took the other leg and started to bite into it. "You're the one who left me in your home. For all I knew you were leaving it and letting me move in so why not check out my new room? You have a lot of....nice things."

She said 'nice things' rather loosely. Again, she didn't think any of them were nice and if it was up to her, she would get rid of all of the things. Except the daggers. Those she would keep. As she continued to talk, she examined the chicken leg she was eating. As if it was the most interesting thing on the planet. "And that picture on your dresser was interesting too. Was that you and your parents? Cute." Sure it was cute, if you thought a woman getting beat up was cute. But regardless, Shaylyn waited for something to happen. Would Melanie speak of the picture? Or would she dodge the question?

"Well, the least you could do is clean it up. I never asked you to make any food from my kitchen. You chose to. That was fine. But then you waste it. An honorable person, as you seem to otherwise be, would've taken it upon themselves to clean it up. Yet you haven't. I find that rather odd. Either, you're narcissistic, all talk, no game, or there's some reason you left it all over my floor that I'm just not following. Do you simply dislike me that much? If so, why haven't you left yet?" Melanie questioned. Shaylyn was indeed acting very strange. Much unlike how she described herself. Melanie was curious why.

Melanie smirked though. "I'll keep that logic in mind should I ever be left alone in your domain. According to you, if you leave me alone, unannounced, your home and everything inside becomes mine. It's an odd way to live, for sure. But I could quite enjoy a world that functioned in that manner," the sarcasm was heavy in her response.

"Nice things. Thank you! So you like the jars of blood then. By all means, take one as a parting gift," Melanie replied as she picked the jar up from the counter and held it as if offering it to her; though it wasn't fully extended to Shaylyn since the gesture wasn't sincere, yet sarcastic. "And get the hell out of my fucking house!" Melanie's sarcastic smile vanished. Watching Shaylyn eat her chicken after snooping around her house and trashing it, all the while still giving her this attitude of superiority; Melanie was sick of it. "I appreciate you helping me home, even though the gesture was done less to help me and more to protect your people from scary little Melanie and her fucking jars of blood. Oh lord, protect the towns! Here comes a pale girl unable to stand on her own two-fucking-feet. She's here to kill us all! It's laughable, really." Melanie said this, but her face had never wore a more serious expression. "Either way, I appreciate what you did, but the food you had and wasted, I consider as payment for your half-assed generosity. So, if you would be so kind as to see your way out of my house!" Melanie was shouting now. Her voice had slowly grown more and more intense throughout her speech. And now, her hands were literally shaking with rage.

Melanie heard this in her voice and she stopped suddenly. All the anger was suddenly put on hold as if a pause button were pressed. She looked to the jar of blood in her hands, her shaky hand unable to hold it still. She sounded just like her father yelling at her mother in one of his drunken rages. And here was her alcohol... Just like her father, he never put it down as he yelled at her mother, and rarely put to down to smack her around. Melanie dropped the jar of blood, it smashed on the ground between Shaylyn and Melanie; a few small droplets got on each of them as the blood and glass mixed the some of the potatoes. The kitchen was officially a... bloody mess. Melanie simply started crying. Tears streaming down her cheeks right there. She would've tried to prevent it; but it struck with no warning and there was no stopping it. She was just like her father.

Shaylyn just stood there and let Melanie yell at her. She was right, Shaylyn should have cleaned up. But she didn't. The wolf expected the human girl to flip out, to yell at her, to kick her out. And for the most part she did. She did pretty well at this point. She wasn't taking her shit. And then Melanie went a step further, calling her out and even shouting. This was good. This was what she was waiting for. A small smirk had formed upon the wolf's face as the shouting got louder. And then it suddenly all went down hill from there. Melanie shut down again. The jar of blood in her hand fell and went everywhere; even a bit landed on Shay herself though she didn't care. And then the water works came down Melanie's face.

"Why are you crying." It wasn't just a question, it was like a statement. Like why are you doing something stupid? Why are you messing up your perfectly good and rightful anger? Why are you crying?

Shaylyn ran a hand through her hair and let out a grunt. This was getting nowhere and it needed to get addressed. Melanie needed to stop running away from the problem so Shaylyn was going to force the problem even more. She was going to get Melanie to face something the girl more than likely never wanted to face in all her life: The reason she was crying.

So Shay was going to play the bad guy.

The wolf shoved Melanie. "I asked you a question. Why are you fucking crying?" And she didn't stop there. Shaylyn growled at the other girl and shoved her again. "I came into your home and trashed the place. I shoved you against a wall and went through your things. I am stronger than you and I'm going to take all of your things. And if you don't shape up, I'm going to make you my slave and take you home with me." Another shove came from Shaylyn to Melanie. "What's your problem? Do you always run away when things get a bit tough for you? Life must suck hard for you little girl. Can't even defend her own home from others. What a shame. And here I thought you were going to take me on in a fight. I don't know if I really feel up to it little girl." There. That should have made her mad. That should have gotten Melanie pissed enough to start talking, or at least start yelling.