Lucy
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack
It's the fear of the dark; it's growing inside of me.
Posts: 43
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Post by Lucy on Apr 6, 2007 0:52:23 GMT
Continued from: Hallways
Once in her room, Lucy bent awkwardly to grab the edge of the small rug that had been there when she'd effectively moved in. She tugged it lightly to cover up the first of what she was expecting to be many bloody blotches on the floor. Not because she was squeamish, she didn't have the luxury of being squeamish, and not because she thought it impaired the aesthetics of her room, something else she didn't care about. In truth she didn't know why she did it.
It was automatic.
She turned around to face the door though once she had completed the benign action, expression blank and pale and evidentially 'skittish' form the encounter in the hallway.
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Lucy
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack
It's the fear of the dark; it's growing inside of me.
Posts: 43
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Post by Lucy on Jul 21, 2007 22:38:32 GMT
For at least ten minutes, probably more Lucy stood in her room staring at the closed door, her right hand closed over her left wrist against the ache there as she blinked whiskey eyes at the wooden frame, the paint the handle, as if taking in every detail she could of it and trying to pick out anything that might have been wrong. There was nothing wrong with it though. Not knocking. No slow turning of the handle. After the minutes were up the petite blonde gave a jittery shudder and turned to her bed bodily, her eyes stayed with the door for a moment longer as she reassured herself that she really was alone in her room.
Her feet shuffled across the floor, she didn't even have the energy to lift them up as she headed for her bed. She clambered up onto the mattress and didn't even bother to get under the sheets as she lay down on her left side and tucked her arms into her chest, her back to the door. A sigh eased out, her stiff shoulders and back muscles protesting against any and all movement as exhaustion finally took over. Lucy closed her eyes and brought the cuff of Tyler's sweatshirt she still wore to her philtrum and closed her eyes, childish as it was there was comfort in the scent of her friend and restless though it was sleep found her rapidly.
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Lucy
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack
It's the fear of the dark; it's growing inside of me.
Posts: 43
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Post by Lucy on Oct 4, 2007 14:48:48 GMT
TIME SKIP More than anything it was her stomach that woke her up. She wasn't hungry exactly, it wasn't that kind of rumbling sensation that aroused the blonde, it was an anxious kind of churning that had a habit of waking her up recently. Lucy blinked dully and rubbed her watery eyes as a yawn stretched her jaw, she groaned and rolled over onto her other side so that she could get up off the bed, but she stopped halfway and stared at the doorway. Where the hell did she think she was going? It wasn't like she could take a stroll around the manor to stretch her legs, and the chances of running into Farryn were pretty high if she ventured outside of her room. Then again what was the point in caring? Pain was unavoidable, so why bother to try and avoid it anymore? Instinct maybe. It didn't seem like she had much willpower left for it to be because of that.
After a moment Lucy pushed herself off the mattress, with some difficulty, and staggered slightly towards her bathroom, she snatched up some clothes, a loose navy t-shirt and a pair of earthy, maroon pants. She changed as quickly as her aching muscles would allow and then shuffled back out into her room. Once more she stared at the doorframe, blinking slowly as if trying to work through some intense internal struggle; a voice told her to stay put and just wait out the day, she could slink off into the main body of the manor when darkness had fallen. Another voice countered that she really needed to eat something, even if she wasn't hungry. A third told her to give up, lie down again and just stay there forever. It would be so easy...
With a shake she made for the door, though any confidence she might have once held in her posture, any defiance was gone completely and the hand she reached out to the handle was clammy with sweat, and shook lightly. Lucy pulled the handle gently, it felt like she was using every ounce of strength that her body possessed just to do that, but somehow she managed to get herself into the hallway where she wrapped her arms around herself, ducked her head and started towards the stairs. Continued in; TV Lounge.
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Tyler
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack: Fighter
I'm tired of being what you want me to be; feeling so faithless, lost under the surface.
Posts: 52
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Post by Tyler on Dec 17, 2007 23:30:56 GMT
POST TIMESKIP
‘Bad feelings’ were nothing new to Tyler, nothing new at all, and yet, as he walked down the hallway and approached the only door he would willingly come close to — that wasn’t his own, anyway — without being ordered, he couldn’t help but feel the swell of anxiety in his gut. Gloved hands flexed and clenched, and green eyes narrowed as he inspected the door without touching it, the wolf in him shifting and pacing restlessly, prowling with concern and uncertainty, and the out-of-favour fighter looked up and down the hallway, hating the blind corners that might, and sometimes did, hide threats, before he threw caution to the wind.
His knock was discreet, quiet but easily audible to a wolf’s ears. “Evie?” He kept his hand against the door, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip, glancing up and down, left and right, once again to make sure he wasn’t being watched. It wasn’t that he and Lucy weren’t allowed to interact, but they had become allies, and something told him that their ‘Alphas’ would only abuse that bond if they detected the strength of it.
Tyler waited, swallowing down the concern that turned to a lump in his throat as the silence stretched.
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Lucy
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack
It's the fear of the dark; it's growing inside of me.
Posts: 43
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Post by Lucy on Dec 18, 2007 4:32:57 GMT
Sometimes the moon had nothing to do with it. That was getting to be the case with increasing frequency. Farryn lost her temper all the time, but as time ticked on it got more frequent that a snap led to physical violence. There was something calculated in it though, something measured, because she managed to save it until she could find Lucy and then take it out on her. This time had been no different. The blonde had been curled on her bed, reading her paperback copy of Emily Dickinson poetry for the hundredth time, losing herself in stanza after stanza printing on yellowing, dog eared pages when the Alpha female had knocked on the door. Lucy hadn't even had time to get up from the bed before the brunette had sauntered in and closed the door behind her.
Farryn had stroked her hair. Touched her face.
Then she'd started venting.
It was all a blur of pain and motion and when Lucy had come to, presumably from one of various blows to the head though she didn't remember blacking out she had found herself on the floor at the end of her bed, lying on her hips, through her weight had rocked forwards at the torso and her face pressed into the floor. Silently she tried to take stock. What hurt and what didn't. Then she realised there was no point because the pain was like a blanket and her skin was a patch work of bruises and nicks and she just didn't care anymore. Why didn't Farryn just end it? Why couldn't she ever really lose control and just make it final? Of course she knew the answer; Farryn enjoyed herself too much. Lucy was happy to let her have the satisfaction. There had been defiance. For years she had been stubborn and defiant and unbreakable but now... now she just didn't care.
It didn't matter.
Lucy heard a voice, knowing it to be Tyler's without really knowing, and she groaned slightly, and frowned, eyes closed, unable to move. Every muscle felt as though it was on fire, her head pounded and her stomach turned over. Blood had pooled in her cheek and under her tongue, running out onto the floor in front of her face to join the small patch that had soaked under her head, the back of her scalp tingled and she suspected she'd hit her head on the iron be railing maybe, split her scalp open. That would explain a lot.
Farryn had probably laughed herself hoarse.
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Tyler
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack: Fighter
I'm tired of being what you want me to be; feeling so faithless, lost under the surface.
Posts: 52
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Post by Tyler on Dec 18, 2007 6:03:55 GMT
All the while he waited, the restless temptation to just invite himself in nagged and gnawed beneath the surface, just about driving him to give in when he thought he heard a sound from within the room, a groan or a mumble or some kind, and after one more failed attempt to get Lucy to verbally respond to his knocked query, his hand moved and enveloped the handle. Turning it sharply after only a few seconds’ hesitation, he finally let himself in, closing the door behind him before he even took stock of the room, and the female crumpled on the floor within.
Farryn. Again.
Tyler growled in the base of his throat, and moved forward and down, kneeling at the battered blonde’s side and drawing his brows together in a frown of visible, obvious concern. “Dammit, Evie…” It was clear he wasn’t ‘cursing’ at her, and his hands hovered here or there, over her shoulder, over her cheek, reluctant to touch in case he caused more pain, before he finally got himself up from the floor, saying perhaps pointlessly, “Stay still, don’t move.”
He wasn’t gone long. He had retrieved a convenient bowl from the bathroom, and filled it with water, warm but not hot, and one of the face towels, before returning to her side, setting the items down and tilting his head to try and meet her eyes. “Think you can sit up if I help you?”
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Lucy
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack
It's the fear of the dark; it's growing inside of me.
Posts: 43
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Post by Lucy on Dec 18, 2007 22:37:17 GMT
Blearily Lucy's eyes opened, but she couldn't really see straight, everything blurred together or doubled and nausea crashed through her, sending another groan up and out of her throat, intermingled with a whine from her wolf. There was a time she wouldn't have allowed the sound but her strength for holding such things back was nonexistent nowadays, so she lay slumped on her front, hair plastered to her neck and cheek from the head wound in swathes of crimson.
After a long moment, too long given the simplicity of the question she managed to sort through the words. It felt impossible to nod but she tried and Tyler seemed to read her acknowledgement and after a moment hands took hold of her and she drew in a harsh breath of air, almost choking on the blood that came with it as pressure hit a tender spot on her side. Everything swam around her as she was mostly pulled into a sitting position and she gave a strangled, loud cry of pain, as her right arm was freed from its pinned position underneath the weight of her body; the fingers were cold and immobile against the floor and the entire limb slumped uselessly to the side.
Dislocated.
Tears burned through her pale brown eyes and the female gave a short, sharp sob, unable to shape words, her head slumped forwards she shifted uncomfortably where she sat, pain shooting through her like electricity. Her arm was there but it wasn't responding to commands, replying to her with a deep, thick agony that made it hard to see at all and with her head throbbing and pulsing, all the blonde could do was choke back pain induced tears to ill-effect.
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Tyler
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack: Fighter
I'm tired of being what you want me to be; feeling so faithless, lost under the surface.
Posts: 52
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Post by Tyler on Dec 19, 2007 5:48:17 GMT
The wolf inside of Tyler was out of control, pacing and turning and clawing and howling; Lucy was effectively his only friend in the pack, the only one he could or would turn to and confide in and socialise with, and here she was, once again, beaten and bloodied, and by their Alpha female no less. God, he hated that he lacked the courage to just leave, to cut his losses and take his friend by the hand and just get out. Really, what was keeping him? Absolutely nothing; that was always the answer to the frequently asked internal query, and every time he subsequently failed to up and leave, he hated himself just that little bit more for it.
He was a coward.
Lucy’s cry of pain almost made him recoil physically, but instead he cringed in response and hissed air through his teeth sympathetically, reminded for a flicker of an instant of his own roar when Lucian had torn his back open, spilled sickening amounts of thick, flowing blood for the rest of the pack to see while Tyler had buckled to the floor, skin shredded and pride truly shattered. He had challenged his Alpha’s logic, after all; Lucian had punished him without question, ensuring it was a ‘show’ of sorts for the others to see. Nobody question or displeased Lucian or his mate and got away with it.
With an unstoppable sigh, he touched a hand to Lucy’s head where he was sure there was no injury despite the amount of blood, sticky and smeared and matted, saying to her, “I know it hurts, but you know what we need to do.” Tyler was reluctant to do it simply because it would cause her more pain, but if they didn’t pop it back into place, she would only suffer more, longer and greater, for the delay.
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Lucy
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack
It's the fear of the dark; it's growing inside of me.
Posts: 43
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Post by Lucy on Dec 20, 2007 1:28:46 GMT
Within the confused, blurry confines of her concussed mind, Lucy's wolf was browbeaten and quiet. No pacing. No snarled growls of indignation that Farryn had reduced her to a crumpled heap of bruised flesh and tears. The ever present other consciousness recoiled as far as it could from the surface, ears flat against its skull, tail down. Successfully cowed into submission yet again.
Lucy managed to meet Tyler's gaze, her eyes lacking the conviction and ability to remain focused, and she blinked wearily. Of course she knew what they had to do. Even through the haze of pain that was seriously impeding her ability to speak or move or think clearly she knew. For a moment she shook her head vehemently, stammering a 'no' and panicking, not wanting to make the pain any worse, shaking tears free to roll over her cheeks and mix with the blood on her face. It wasn't her first dislocated joint after all. Far from it. Over the years she'd had various fingers popped out of their sockets, both shoulders and of course her left wrist which burned in sympathetic memory of the injury that Farryn had repeated systematically for a few weeks worth of torturous agony. Dislocations took a shorter amount of time to heal than broken bones but they still hurt. Still gleaned the reaction the Alpha female looked for, the one Lucy feared she had actually come to crave.
None of that mattered as she sat slumped against the end of her bed, shuddering all over.
A glance down to her immobile, numb hand though and she whined softly, breathing heavily, nauseated by the arm limp and useless at her side. "Do it quick." She gulped, holding back a rough sob just barely, glancing up at him again, "Just... just do it quickly." Before she lost her nerve, she told him with her eyes.
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Tyler
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack: Fighter
I'm tired of being what you want me to be; feeling so faithless, lost under the surface.
Posts: 52
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Post by Tyler on Dec 21, 2007 2:56:16 GMT
Tyler’s nod was silent, almost reluctant at the idea of causing his sole friend any more pain than she had already endured, especially with the sickening thought that it was only a matter of time before she had to go through it all again, and always at the hands of the same individual. Biting back the snarl at the cruelty and childish sadism, Tyler shifted his position, saying to Lucy quietly, “Okay,” if only to hint to her that he was ready, and he needed her to be ready, because he knew that it had to be done quickly; he couldn’t give her too much time to brace or she might back down. It was instinct, the need and urge and want to curl back and away from suffering, and even though it was a necessary evil, this was no exception.
So he wasted no time. It was a horribly simple but mutedly brutal act and then it was done with an awful, audible pop of joint and bone, and the male wolf grimaced, taking Lucy’s responsive hand in his quickly afterwards before she could react as he knew she would so that she could squeeze and grip to try and fight through the pain, if she needed it.
It might not have been her first dislocation, just as Tyler had suffered several during his lifetime for varying reasons, but they all hurt just as much as the ones that came before; the fighter didn’t know of anyone, wolf or otherwise, who could claim with complete, infallible sincerity that such an injury and resetting did not pain them.
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Lucy
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack
It's the fear of the dark; it's growing inside of me.
Posts: 43
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Post by Lucy on Dec 22, 2007 0:27:54 GMT
Agony blasted through her every nerve as Tyler popped her shoulder back into the socket. Lucy screamed, didn't even bother trying to stop herself; it wasn't an unusual sound after all, the pack were probably used to it by now and she didn't care any more whether they heard her or not, whether they reacted or not. For a long time she had been scared by the thought of the pack ceasing to notice, it meant they'd stopped caring and for a long time she had held onto the idea that even though no one did anything - not that she wanted or expected them to really - they still cared deep down. The realisation that they didn't was so much more painful than anything Farryn could do to her physically. They had been a family once, and what were they now? Nothing. A twisted version of a pack, one their parents would have been ashamed to see. Then again, Lucy had come to think, she had stopped caring if the 'pack' heard her, so what right did she have to expect them to continue caring back?
It was up for debate who had lost the ability to give a damn first anyway. It was all semantics now.
Before she knew what she was doing she was squeezing Tyler's hand, her scream cutting off into rough sobs that made her ribs ache as she took in harsh, ragged breaths. Everything went blurry again, her head rocked back against the bed, she squeezed her eyes shut, her knees bent slightly as her body tried to instinctively curl in on itself, to deflect any more pain, but halfway she lost the will to fight and every single muscle seemed to go limp.
Lucy swallowed thickly, blood and bile mixing on the back of her tongue as she did so, the familiar taste unnoticed. After a few moments, head coming forwards again in one pained effort, she looked right at Tyler. "I give up," she said weakly, words stilted as if they caught in her throat, "Farryn wins. I give in."
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Tyler
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack: Fighter
I'm tired of being what you want me to be; feeling so faithless, lost under the surface.
Posts: 52
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Post by Tyler on Dec 28, 2007 21:52:55 GMT
Tyler had often wondered if he and Lucy were in a minority, if they were the only ones who didn’t almost enjoy the sounds of pain in others, and honestly, the thought sickened him, bringing him right back, predictably, to that same old question: why was he still here? Why didn’t he just leave the pack, if he hated it so much? Others had managed it in the past. But then, others had failed to leave as well, tried and been punished, in the most final sense of the word, for ‘betraying’ Lucian. Tyler was glad their parents weren’t around to see how far they had fallen, what a shameful shadow of a pack they had become, and as Lucy’s cry died down and faded into nothingness, he frowned deeply, glancing towards the door if only to let the female have a moment where she wasn’t being stared at, or so she could at least feel as though he wasn’t staring at her.
Lucy’s sobs were harsh in his ears, and he let her squeeze his hand, looking back to her, his expression sympathetic and even apologetic. If there had been another way to reset her shoulder, he would have used it, taken the opportunity to spare her a little pain when she had already been through so much in a short space of time, but they both knew he’d done what he’d had to, and maybe that was the toughest part of it all. They were used to it, in their own ways; had stopped seeing it as strange or misplaced.
Looking right back at Lucy as she spoke to him, he sighed. “Don’t say that.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze in return, not even trying to muster a smile simply because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to manage one and not have it be completely fake. “We’ll find a way to stop her. Lucian too.” Tyler only wished he could have said the words with more confidence.
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Lucy
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack
It's the fear of the dark; it's growing inside of me.
Posts: 43
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Post by Lucy on Jan 4, 2008 0:14:43 GMT
Lucy was one of those who had tried to leave and failed. Arguably she could have picked herself up and tried again, but the will had gone out of her that day, the moment she'd impacted, heard her own bones crack and give under her skin and smelt her blood on the air around her, in that split second before she had blacked out the will had left her, the fight had abandoned her. Since then it had all be a facade, clinging on to her defiance after that because she though she should, not because she wanted to, not because she felt she needed to, simply because she didn't know what else to do, how else to be. Even that was over now.
"Why shouldn't I say it? It's true. I wish she'd just..." Lucy shook her head, but instantly knew that was a bad idea and stopped, swallowing. "What's the point?" The room blurred and she squeezed her eyes shut against the swell of nausea rising through her, he blood on the back of her tongue joined by an acidic taste. Lucy went quiet, suppressing the need to throw up by focusing on the simple act of breathing.
If she could just keep breathing that was all that mattered.
"There is no way to stop them, Ty'. The whole pack's just... there's no way..." she paused, paling under the blood on her face, "I hit my head." She said thickly, eyes losing focus as she screwed her face up against the spinning and the nausea.
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Tyler
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack: Fighter
I'm tired of being what you want me to be; feeling so faithless, lost under the surface.
Posts: 52
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Post by Tyler on Jan 17, 2008 21:38:46 GMT
In his own way, Tyler could argue that he’d tried to improve things, but it would be a weak argument at best. Add to that the fact that thinking about it only spurred the pains down his back, down his scars, and it was best for him to just face facts; admit to himself that he hadn’t really tried much of anything, apart from something that could very well have gotten him killed. Even before he’d tried it, he’d known it was a bad idea, and still he’d gone ahead and done it anyway, and so many of the pack had enjoyed watching Lucian strike him down, so hard and fast that Tyler hadn’t been able to pick himself up again for some time, just trying to recover as his nerve-endings were set alight over and over by the burning of the agony from the tears down his back.
Bringing himself back to present day with nothing more than a blink of his eyes, he looked at Lucy, trying not to stare. He knew what the blonde meant even when the words trailed off, and the wolf in the back of his mind whined, and Tyler had to swallow to keep the sound internal. “It’s just you and me, Evie,” he said to her quietly, even after she mentioned hitting her head, and he carefully shuffled closer to inspect for damage.
Sitting closer to her now, carefully shifting pale waves of hair from her scalp to check for anything serious, at least in werewolf terms, he continued to talk to her in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, also hoping that the sound of his voice would keep her from succumbing to the very likely concussion she was suffering; “We’ve stuck together this long, haven’t we? We only have each other.” He mustered the faintest of smiles, though he doubted she could see it in her condition, with the unfocused quality of her eyes. “One day at a time, huh?” It sounded so pathetic after it left his mouth, and he almost sighed.
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Lucy
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack
It's the fear of the dark; it's growing inside of me.
Posts: 43
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Post by Lucy on Jan 22, 2008 17:59:59 GMT
Sighing, Lucy closed her eyes whilst Tyler inspected her scalp, looking for any serious damage. If she was honest she didn't really remember hitting her head, the 'fight' had been a blur, she couldn't have recounted any of it, only the start, maybe the first few punches and then waking up on the floor, the middle was a mess of the sacking of flesh against flesh, knees against the floor and that was it. She was sure Farryn had made a few snide remarks, she remembered her laughing, but that could just as easily have been a memory of any one of the beatings she had received at the Alpha female's hands. The brunette enjoyed it, perhaps now more than ever. Lucy had stopped getting up once she met the floor now; she'd stopped pulling herself to her feet and glaring back at her tormentor. If Lucy went down and Farryn wasn't done she just yanked her up again, by her hair, or by her clothes. It was all about control.
"You and me against the world, right?" the blonde returned, words taking on a very mild slur which she tried to shake off with a half laugh, bitter and short lived. Another sigh as she looked down at her right hand and flexed the fingers tentatively; they ached in protest, but the blue of her fingernails was starting to recede, blood pumping and pulsing back into the digits and bringing with it a warm rush of renewed pain. Grimacing silently, she tried to sit still so that Tyler could see what he was doing, she knew that she had a concussion and was lucky that being a lycanthrope meant that wasn't as much of a problem as it could have been, she could struggle for her consciousness where she probably ought to have passed out and stayed out for several hours.
"One day at a time." She repeated wearily, focussing on his voice did help her to stay awake where she couldn't see his faint smile, it helped her to stay lucid and in something approaching control of her own body. Lucy didn't think Tyler was a coward. Far from it. He was the only person in the pack who looked at her and did so without disdain or disgust in his eyes, without a smirk of amusement when she literally limped to the kitchen to get something to eat, he had, as he had stated, stuck by her even as she withdrawn and slowly given up the fight, he was quite literally her only friend in the world, to her that seemed brave.
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