[center][h3] In Htrea...[/h3][/center]
	Clouds quickly rolled in, casting a gray film over the world. An icy breeze blew against Zaris’ platinum hair as he ran, the white strands still plastered to his face and beads of water dripped down his skin. He split his concentration as he instinctively navigated the path leading to their village, pulling out the cold water soaking his pants with a few movements of his hands. The liquid formed large, dirtied globs that hung in the air around him for a second before splashing to the ground. Alas, the chill that ran through him stemmed from far more than the cold of the water and the drop in temperature. 
	Though he knew well of the predators that lurked within the forest, that there was little to worry about during the daylight hours, if even by night, he glanced to the trees as paranoia stepped down his spine. For a fleeting second, Zaris felt as if someone was watching him. But the feeling passed as quickly as it had come when the first signs of their village came into view.
	Smoke billowed upward in inviting clouds from chimneys, promising that a fire burned inside. The tallest of the houses were no more than two stories. Every building within sight was created by various combinations of stones, daub, thatching, and shale shingles. The earth-packed streets were alive with activity. People ran through the roads, some carrying buckets or boards, or hurrying toward friends and family to check for injuries. Many voices shouted to each other. Pigs and chickens ran in a panicked frenzy in packs. A few younger children and adults ran after the escaped animals, trying to catch them to the sounds of panicked clucking, irate squeals, and Zaris was sure, the lowing of a cow somewhere out of sight.
	As soon as the group of teenagers entered the town’s boarder, the gathering dispersed as they went to check on their families. As Zaris ran, air burst beneath his steps, quickening his pace as he rushed to the opposite end of the village. He passed many houses with shattered windows, the glass laying in jagged shards on the ground, and a few walls now sported cracks.
	“Zaris!”
	The boy slid to a stop at the deep voice, the wind at his feet kicking up a spray of loose dirt and rocks. He spun around, and found Cage, the local blacksmith, waving him down, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up above his massive arms. 
	“She’s at the Groshill’s!” The blacksmith pointed toward the east.
	Zaris gave a quick nod in thanks, turned from the Cage, and hurried on his way, veering toward the east side of the village.
	Soon after the houses thinned, he stumbled to a halt at the last two-story home at the edge of the village, a large field expanding behind it. A couple other wooden buildings were visible beyond, and a fence surrounded the house.
	Before he could race up the steps to the front door, shattered glass from the window beside it glittering in the dull sunlight filtering through the clouds, another voice made him stop.
	“Zaris!” the relieved, tender voice of his mother called as the woman rounded from the side of the house. A woman somewhere in her thirties, she clutched the sides of her layered, colorful skirts in her hands, and her dirty blond hair sat atop her head in a disheveled bun.
	“Mom!” Zaris altered his course once more, easily jumping the fence separating him from his adoptive mother, Kraya. He gripped her shoulders and held her at arms-length, checking for any signs of injury. “Are you hurt?”
	“I’m fine, love.” The woman brushed Zaris’ hands away and pulled him into a tight hug.
	Zaris gladly returned the gesture.
	“Are [i]you[/i] alright?” It was her turn to hold him out and look him over. “Your friends? You’re going to catch your death, love, without a shirt in this weather! According to the Skykeepers, it’s going to snow tonight.”
	“I’m fine. We’re all fine.” With his mother in good health, Zaris’ body relaxed, and he gave her a lopsided smile. “Wet, but fine.” He glanced to the farmhouse. “Any idea what kind of damage we’re looking at yet? Looked like the animals finally decided to try getting their residency here.”
	Kraya made a clicking sound with her tongue and placed her hands on her hips, her mouth pulling down.
	“A few fences fell. Or were trampled.” The woman sighed and looked to an open horse corral as a man with graying red hair and dressed in dirt-caked clothes tried to soothe the whinnying horses inside. “And the roof of their barn caved in. Other than that,” she looked back to her son, “you’ve probably seen as much as I have.”
	“What about our place?”
	“A few broken plant pots, and a couple cracked windows. We got lucky.”
	Zaris gave a relieved sigh. “Where’d it originate from [i]this[/i] time?”
	“I’m not a Landwatcher, love.” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, the boy already a few inches taller than her. “But I’m sure it’ll be on one of tonight’s magCasts. Now, go make yourself useful. See if you can’t help fix Mr. Groshill’s fences so we can have [i]somewhere[/i] to put the runaway animals. I’ve already spoken to him about it.”
	Zaris’ shoulder slumped as he let out a long groan.
	“Moaning about it won’t get it done, love!” Despite Kraya’s stern expression, her hazel eyes shone warmly.
	“The guy’s got it out for me!”
	Kraya laughed. “I’m sure if you don’t wave your little necklace around and tell him it’ll turn his pigs into two-headed monkeys, you two will get along just fine.”
	“[i]Rabid[/i] two-headed monkeys,” Zaris corrected, looking to the ground to try hiding a grin. “And it’s not [i]my[/i] fault he’s a superstitious old geezer.”
	“Zaris!”
	“Kidding!” He raised his hands beside him defensively. “Left it at home, anyway.”
	“Then there shouldn’t be a problem, should there?”
	“I could make a temporary sty,” Zaris offered through a sigh. “Until we get a fence fixed.”
	Kraya hesitated. “Are you sure you can do that? Something large enough to work—”
	“Will be a cinch. I told you.” Zaris flexed a hand in front of him. “They’ve been stronger lately.”
	“And more out of control.” She looked at him with her usual worried, tight-lipped expression. “You need to be extra careful, Zaris.”
	Her unusually stern, grave tone and the flash of unease that flitted through her gaze made the light-hearted comment Zaris had opened his mouth to give die on his tongue.
	“Okay,” he said instead, his brows furrowing slightly. “I will.”
	Kraya eyed him for a moment, as if searching for any sign of deception, then nodded. “Good. I’ll let Bryce,” she gestured toward the farmer with a nod of her head, “know what you’re doing, then gather some villagers to help round up the livestock.”
	“Yee haw!” Zaris raised an arm and made a circle with it, twirling an invisible lasso above his head.
	“Alright, cowboy.” Kraya smiled at him. “Find a place, and get to work.” She turned from him and took a couple steps toward the horse corral.
	Zaris headed toward a large expanse of field, but stopped and looked back to his mother.
	“Hey, Mom?” He waited for her to look to him. “Are you [i]sure[/i] everything’s okay? Besides the obvious.”
	Kraya gave him another smile, only this one was smaller, less sincere. “I’m fine, love. Now get to work before I make you chase down the Hampton’s bull instead!”
 	Zaris’ eyes widened. “Already working!” he said as he pointed toward the field with both pointer fingers and turned, one foot getting the memo before the rest of his body. 
	He hurried to roughly the middle of his chosen area. He surveyed the land around him, glancing to his mother as she reached Bryce, then took a couple backwards steps. He held his hands out in front of him, making the motions of framing the area. Noticing Bryce looking at him, Zaris stopped to wave at him, smiling brightly at the man’s dour expression.
	The man waved the boy off and turned to a horse, which had calmed since Zaris last looked. 
	Zaris caught his mother’s eye as she turned to leave. Even from their distance, he could see her stern look, a last warning to be careful. He bowed with a flourish, which earned him a half-smile and a roll of her eyes before the woman hurried to the road.
	Once she was out of sight, Zaris looked to the field around him, examining the browning grass. Rather, the earth from which it grew. Though earth was one of his weaker elements, that little fact was one he refused to let get in his way. To contain the animals, he would have to make walls that were high enough to keep chickens from jumping out, and thick enough to prevent pigs from easily digging themselves out. And all without causing further destruction to the already unstable ground. 
	Zaris placed a hand contemplatively to his mouth for a moment.
	He knelt down and placed a hand on the prickly grass. He shivered as a gentle wind blew through the field and caressed his bare shoulders and back, reminding him of the winter season lurking behind the dying plants. Taking a deep breath and trying to focus on the earth instead of the wind, he closed his eyes and probed the soil beneath his hand with his mind.
	Though it almost felt as if it resisted him at first, scarcely a second later it welcomed him like a forgotten friend. His mind delved into the element, searching for any sign that moving the dirt and rock around him would cause any damage. The cold of the mid-afternoon faded, replaced by something between a warmth and a comfortable chill of earth that had yet to concede to the temperatures above ground. His powers reached further than he had wanted, giving him a jagged mental image of the area around him.
	The ground here felt stable enough.
	Slowly, Zaris pulled his mind from the ground beneath him enough to be aware of his surroundings for himself, and not through the eyes of the earth. Still, he maintained his connection, the voice of the element a soft and steady pull, beckoning for him to be as much a part of it as it was of him.
	His gaze slightly distant, he stood and looked to the ground a couple yards from him. If he payed close enough attention, he could sense Bryce’s footsteps on the earth like a gentle pressure, could feel the vibrations of the frantic hoof-beets from the horses across the property.
	“That’s not what I need right now,” he muttered, both to himself and the element. He could almost feel the earth’s disappointment. Still, it felt eager to do his bidding. 
	Exhaling, he raised a hand in front of him as a concentration aid, and planted his heels into the ground. Commanding the earth with both hand and mind, the earth around him shifted. It bulked up in one area, moving layers of grass, dirt, and rock into a thick mound. As it grew, he raised his other hand, and the mound slowly began to form a wide circle, drawing in the ground from around and beneath it. As the spot where he started reached around seven feet in height—just for good measure—he turned in a slow circle, doing his best to abide by his promise to be careful, as much as it pained him, and as much as the element called to him to let it flow freely through him, to use it to its fullest potential.
	A few times, the earth bucked unnervingly in excitement, once making him stumble to his knees and lose concentration for a second, causing a cloud of gravely soil to burst up and send a heavy rain over him. The chill of the day was a distant memory, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. Though nowhere near as quickly as he would have liked, a couple minutes after he had started, he lowered his hands and looked around with a contented smile at the thick ring of earth he had created.
	With a heavy exhale, he crossed his arms, proud of the wall he had made. Now he just had to get out of it. He strutted toward a part of his earthy, grassy wall and made a punching motion toward it. The earth crumbled open, creating an oval just wide enough for him to exit. Once he was out, with a silent command, the wall reformed itself into a thick, solid structure.
	Almost reluctantly, Zaris released his hold over the element. The world around him--the world above and beyond the earth--became clearer, and yet duller at the same time before his senses evened themselves out, including the sensation of his stomach growling.
	He gave a satisfied nod at his handiwork, then stretched his arms above his head. He inhaled through his teeth as a sharp prick ran the length of his left arm, following the four, pale scars that ran from his shoulder to beneath his wrist. He pulled his arm down and ran his other hand over the scars, the pain turning into a slight twinge.
	“Huh,” he muttered. It had been years since the confounded thing had acted up. He had long since thought those days were over.
With an annoyed sigh, he walked around his wall toward the farmhouse. He stopped and looked to the horses as a couple of them poked their heads out of their stalls and looked around, Bryce nowhere to be seen.
	For now, the fence could wait, and he was sure the damage in the village was still being accessed. The horses, Zaris decided, could use a treat after the day they’d had, and he knew the perfect place to pick some apples for both them and him to tide them all over until dinner.

[center][h3]Meanwhile, On Earth...[/h3][/center]
	[i]Putrid, wretched humans. Their stench clung to the air, even here, here amongst the outskirts of a forest. Even the dusting of snow kissing the earth could not wash away the stains of humans. Their like deserved death for the destruction they left in their wake. Yes. The pathetic, naïve race would get what they deserved. Both humans and those traitors who supported them.
	Pain. Pain streaked relentlessly through Kartook’s human form. Even [u]looking[/u] like one of them was agonizing. The desire to burst forth from this false skin, to rip, to tear, to feel the crunch of bones between his teeth gnawed at him as he walked alongside the road. But no. Not yet.
	But soon.
	He had picked up the scent, the [u]feeling[/u] of one of them. He was on the right trail. Just a little longer. He needed to hold onto the form for just a short while more. 
	The fetid smell of humans intensified. Ahead, large houses rose around the trees. Kartook stopped at a fork in the concrete road, closed his eyes, and inhaled. His nostrils flared. There. The light scent of the girl, a [u]werewolf,[/u] led to the left. It rolled on the gentle breeze. It was faint, but the most recent.
	A grin spread over his haggard, oval face. He was in werewolf territory. Perfect. Perfect indeed. Earth’s wolves rarely, if ever, sensed him. But that girl. That girl was an unpredictable variable. Nevertheless, he lumbered down the street. He could deal with that later.
Curse his wretched human legs! So slow. So weak. Yet, they brought him to where he desired: a quaint home distanced from the others. Her scent hung in the air. Potent. Reeking of destiny.
	At last. At long, sweet last. Every muscle in his body screamed for release, to pass the property line and barge inside, to paint the walls in red. But not yet. He knew only what he could smell. And the Destined Ones were not to be underestimated.
	No. For now, he would wait. He would watch. 
	He slunk into the shadows of a line of trees, the snow crunching beneath his feet. He crouched, his bulk easily hidden from the house and road.
	He would watch. He would wait. Then. Then he would make his move.[/i]