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Jolene's small form dashed through bushes and between looming trees. The bright moon offered her little light as she navigated toward the city. She recalled passing it once. There were houses. Lots of them. She was sure that she'd be able to find shelter there. A branch caught the sleeve of her coat, ripping the fabric until another hole grew visible. Her skin burnt from where she’d been cut. It matched several others of various sizes. Whether they came from the fight or after, she didn't know. All the scars hurt the same. She brushed some of her coily hair out of her face. Without the ponytails keeping it in check, it collected branches and mud like a squirrel with their nuts. Usually, the wolf-mom would brush and tie her hair. Jolene sneered at the thought of her. She didn't care, she didn't. She didn't want to, either. She'd just have to handle it herself.
Thunder roared in the distance as black clouds neared. Jolene picked up her pace and pulled her fresh pelt tighter around her shivering body. Besides the metallic scent, it still smelled like her. Wearing it proved how strong she was — that nobody should mess with her. She'd never get betrayed again that way. Then why were her eyes burning with the threat of tears? She was strong now. She'd proved to them and to herself that she could do it. That she wasn't weak. Jolene held back a sob as a single droplet of rain landed on her forehead. Darkness swallowed the forest and she shivered. It was so cold. On a normal night, she'd be in bed by then — curled up underneath the thick fabric of a white blanket. She wouldn't be running on legs too inexperienced, with a heart aching in a way that no five year old's should.
The rain soaked her pelt, washing away the blood that would undoubtedly leave a trail to her whereabouts. The edge of the forest approached at a rapid pace, and Jolene stopped shortly after exiting the comfort of the trees. They hid her well, but she couldn't stay. The woods belonged to the wolves, and so they weren't safe. Further ahead, there was a house. Or rather, a shed. The walls were broken down and she could almost make out the interior from where she was standing. It was better than nothing, she told herself. She made sure that nobody was following her as she made her way to the house. The door to the house looked ready to collapse as she pulled it open and entered. The rain dripped from holes in the roof and Jolene avoided stepping in wet puddles as her eyes landed on a bookshelf, long since fallen to the floor. Her breath shook with each inhale and she wiped at the tears that refused to go away. She stepped over books containing letters she couldn't make out before she crawled into a corner. She would be out of immediate sight if a mute was to enter, but she was sure it wouldn't matter much since their sense of smell and hearing was much stronger than her own. She blew warm air into her hands, but it did nothing to stop the trembling. She then eyed the books. They were made out of wood, right? And wood made sustainable fuel, according to the wolf-dad. With that in mind, she gathered the least damp ones into a pile. She found a wooden stick propped up against a wall, grabbed it, and kneeled in front of her pile. It took her longer than she liked to admit, but a fire eventually began to bloom, leaving a trail of smoke to rise toward the ceiling.
Jolene curled up with her knees against her chest. She wrapped her arms around them, closing her eyes to imagine her adoptive parents hugging her instead. She didn't want to miss them, didn't want to admit the pain they caused her, but she did. She glanced down at her right wrist where the daisy bracelet still hung. She fidgeted with the stems, recalling the amount of times she'd made friendship bracelets with Margot, that she'd recently learned meant nothing. Jolene furrowed her brows in anger as she ripped it off her wrist, swallowing the guilt in her tummy when it snapped. She held the remains above the growing fire, hesitated for a couple seconds, and then let it fall into the flames. The daisies dissipated into ashes.
She leaned back until her head touched the wall behind her. She removed her coat and draped it over her like a blanket for when the fire would run out. She stared into the flames and the way they lit up the room. The way they enunciated the torn wallpapers, the broken windows, and the holes in the walls. Jolene's lower lip wobbled, and this time, she couldn't hold back the sobs. Her body ached and the wounds beneath her clothing burned, but she was unsure if it hurt more than the images haunting her mind. Blood still coated her hands — a clear sign of her victory. The victory of a battle she wished she'd never have been a part of. Confusion, hurt, and anger swirled inside her mind. Why had they decided to hunt her? Why had they decided that she didn't matter? She thought she'd been doing well. She'd improved a lot since meeting Margot, and she made sure to be kind and helpful. Why wasn't it enough? Why wasn't she enough? What had she done wrong?
Jolene clawed at her face, hoping that the pain would distract her from the turmoil of emotions welling up inside. She pictured her former siblings’ bodies. The way she'd left them to bleed out after taking their mother's skin. They hadn't expected her to be so strong, it became obvious when the adults joined the hunt as well. She'd made sure they regretted it. They'd found her a mere child, a weak and naive little thing that didn't know what the world had to offer. They'd died by her hands as she proved that she wasn't weak anymore. She would never let anyone think of her as such ever again.
Jolene wrapped the pelt around herself a smidge tighter. By sunrise, she'd find a new place to stay — somewhere far, far away — and then, she'd hunt for food. She had no idea how, but she had no choice but to learn. From then on, she'd only have herself to rely on. It was the only way to make sure that she wouldn't get hurt again. It was the only way to make sure that she survived.
She closed her eyes, soothed by the crackling of the fire. No matter how much it hurt, she would move forward and refuse to look back. A small voice in the back of her head told her that that way, she'd eventually find happiness. Until then, she would stay a lone wolf.