[center][h2][color=009900]Blaine Moore[/color][/h2][/center]

[center][i]Day 1, early morning[/i][/center]

[center][i]6 Cedarcrest Rd, Blaine's residence[/i][/center]

	Blaine awoke with a pounding headache at 9:30AM and an itch that seemed to encompass her entire body underneath her skin. As if a myriad of microscopic ants were marching anxiously to and fro. Blaine groaned and slung an arm over her eyes in frustration. She hated waking up early. Even more so she hated waking up early with a pounding headache and an army of ants marching relentlessly underneath her skin. She gritted her teeth. She knew the feeling. Her wolf was unsettled. And when that happened the urge to shift was stronger than usual. Blaine kicked irritably at the sheets, tangled around her legs. When she managed to finally get free, she slung her legs off the bed and sat on the edge with her head in her hands. She needed to center herself before her wolf got the better of her and she took off for the woods in pelt. She wasn't a pup anymore. Quite the opposite. She knew how to control her baser animal instincts that came as a package deal with her being a werewolf.

	Blaine stood up and padded quietly barefooted out of her bedroom, through a corridor or two until she was in front of the back door of her house that opened up to the back yard, which appeared to seamlessly merge with the Forest River Conservation Area Park. She wordlessly crossed the smooth wooden surface of her back porch and descended the four or so steps until her feet felt the softness of the fresh green grass of her lawn. She stopped to allow her senses to fully take in the feel of the grass between her toes. The wetness of the fresh morning dew. Blaine allowed the feeling to anchor her into her body and took a deep breath of fresh morning air. She exhaled slowly. Then inhaled again. And exhaled once more allowing the deep breathing to center her. Slowly she lowered herself on the ground. Right knee first, than the left and positioned herself until she was sitting in seiza. It was her preferred position for meditation.

	The minutes ticked off as she emptied her mind and concentrated on her breathing. In a few more minutes she inhaled deeply and probed deeper within herself and immediately encountered her wolf's anxiety. It was palpable. Pulsing and roiling. The ants once again began marching underneath her skin. Blaine didn't allow the feeling to overwhelm her. She continued the calm, deep, cleansing breathing. After a few more minutes the ants quieted down and Blaine breathed a sigh of relief. She'd managed to calm her wolf, but the anxiety was still there. Her animal instincts were picking up on something that was raising her hackles almost alarmingly.

	Blaine stood up and walked inside the house. It was almost fifteen minutes past ten. It was no use trying to go back to sleep, so she resigned herself to go about her daily routine. Shower first, breakfast and then work. She'd found a gorgeous garden bench at a yard sale in Andover a couple of weeks ago. The previous owners obviously didn't have the patience to properly treat the wood or simply didn't know how to protect it from weathering and had butchered it by painting it over a vile orange color to match their outdoor furniture and decor. Blaine wanted to restore it for her own back yard. Removing the paint would be a time consuming endeavor. But she wanted to uncover the wood's natural color. Then she would simply treat it with a coat of transparent varnish et voila! She would have the perfect bench for her back porch.

	She'd just finished working on a carpentry project for a new house owner and had put the final touches on her latest carving project as well. So she needed something new to keep busy. But something not as time consuming as taking on a new carpentry project or starting a new carving. The bench was the perfect choice. The bulk of the work would be stripping off that god awful paint. It would be the perfect distraction from this thing that had her wolf senses on high alarm.

	
	After a short breakfast Blaine headed to her workshop with her tea mug in hand.

[hr]
	Blaine locked the front door to her house and went for the shed where she kept her chopper. She was still antsy. The feeling of unease from the morning hadn't really gone away. Her wolf wanted to run, but somehow she didn't feel like it was the best option right now, so instead she decided to go for the next best thing. Which was ride her chopper. She'd donned the necessary safety gear, put on her leather jacket and bike gloves and was ready to go. She rode around town for a while, letting her anxiety subside to bearable levels, before heading for one of her favorite pubs, the Indo. As a fan of the Irish and Celtic culture, she loved the atmosphere of the pub and felt cozy and almost at home there.

	She parked her bike in front of the pub, took off her helmet, gloves and jacket. Walking towards the pub she tousled out her helmet hair and smiled faintly hearing the jovial Irish tunes, coming from inside the bar. She took her usual seat. A small table in one of the pub's corners, facing the front door. A waiter approached the table and upon recognizing her grinned.

	"The usual, Chief?"

	Blaine looked at the young man grinning down at her. Rory was a handsome lad with his windblown bronze complexion, deep blue eyes and curly black hair. Way back when she'd relocated to Salem and had found the Indo for the first time he'd attempted to try his hand at charming her into his bed. Apparently some of his waiter buddies and especially the proprietor of the establishment had sat him on the straight and narrow. This woman was way out of his league. Apparently they'd also told him her rank with the Coast Guard and ever since then it had become a sort of a bantery greeting between them.

	"You know it!" Blaine confirmed with a grin of her own. Her blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

	"Cajun fries and one hot cocoa coming right up!" He mock saluted and rushed off to the kitchen.

	Blaine's eyes followed his departing figure for a second or so before she allowed them to roam the interior of the pub. The Indo wasn't empty, but it wasn't full either. There were a couple of people at the bar, some seated on tables like her. She did see a familiar face however. She recognized a burly man, sitting at the bar. Blaine didn't know him personally, but her being a carpenter and him being a contractor, she knew of Tom Finch by reputation. Blaine didn't want to intrude, so she allowed her eyes to stray from his back and continue roaming the rest of the pub's interior. Just as Rory was delivering her order of Cajun fries and hot cocoa a young man entered the pub and headed straight for the bar. He plopped down near Tom Finch, placing his backpack near his stool. The young man placed his order and proceeded to strike up a conversation with the contractor.

	Rory followed her gaze and grinning lowered his head to whisper to her.

	"And here I thought men were not your speed, Chief."

	Blaine looked at Rory with mirth in her eyes. "Damn, you've found me out! I only used it as an excuse to keep pups like you away."

	Rory straightened and clutched his chest above his heart.

	"Ouch! You wound me, Chief!" He barked out a laugh. "Boss, sais 'enjoy your meal'."

	"Thanks, pup!"

	Rory walked away shaking his head, still laughing.

	Blaine set her gaze towards the bar and waited for Harkin to catch her eye. When they made eye contact she smiled and nodded raising her hot cocoa in thanks. He nodded in response.