Stars twinkled against the clear navy-blue sky like luminous diamonds on a velvet sheet. The moon hung full and bright, lighting up the clearing with a soft pale glow. The place was magical; the moonlight playing off the surrounding trees, reflecting in the ice droplets around him like stars had fallen to earth. He knew he should be afraid, he had no idea how to get home, he could scarcely remember where home was, not to mention the thin t-shirt and pyjama pants were no protection against the bitter cold. But what should have scared him the most was the animal protecting him.

It was the canine's insane warmth that was keeping him alive as the threat of frostbite hung in the late October air. The wolf's hair was thick and soft under his fingertips as he played with the undercoat of its snowy white fur. It reminded him of a husky his mother had watched for a week while their neighbours were on vacation. Though he was anything but a husky, rivalling the size of a half-grown colt his paws alone where the size of his hand. His ears stood straight and pointed on the top of his skull, their tips red as though someone had dipped them in blood; yet he wasn't afraid, in fact he felt protected, untouchable, as he lay with the gigantic canine.

When the large canine had appeared out of the shadows he'd been sure he was about to die. It had teeth and claws that could no doubt rip into him as though he were made of butter not flesh and bone. Why it had lain next to him, to warm him, made no sense and by all rights the creature could decide at any moment to devour him. But he felt safe with the beast, safe in a way he hadn't felt since his mother had passed.

At that moment he was content, completely at peace. It felt as though he belonged in that clearing, with this wolf, staring at these stars as the moon shown done on them. But he knew he'd have to leave. He couldn't abandon his father, the man had barely survived his wife's passing, if his son disappears... well he didn't know what might become of him. And then there was his best friend, a clumsy asthmatic teen who was so obsessed with finding the next big story he was always running them into trouble... he'd be dead already if it wasn't for him, he couldn't abandon him. The thought made him sad as his heart was practically torn in two; staying in this place where he could feel at peace and being with those he cares for beyond anything. His grief caught in his throat as he stared up at the sky, hoping it would give him an out a way to console the two sides. 

A snort tore him from his thoughts and he turned to look into the hazel-green eyes of his companion. Concern and questioning hung in the dusty swamp orbs as the wolf seemed to catch on to his sudden change in mood. He offered the wolf what he hoped was a comforting smile, but somehow, he knew it betrayed his conflicted heart.

****

An alarm shrieked obnoxiously from the overcrowded night stand of Alwyn Novak. His pale hand shot out from under a mountain of blankets on the small double bed. He fumbled a moment, knocking an empty tea cup to the floor in his blind haste. 

With the offending noise silenced he kicked off the blankets and rolled over with a groan. His ebony hair stuck up in multiple places, looking like the victim of electric shock while it contrasted sharply with the white of his pillow. 

"Last day, then we get a week off." Alwyn spoke out loud, hoping that the words would help pick him out of bed. He'd gotten obsessed with a new Gaelic mythology thread and had spent the better half of the night and early morning following link after link. It had only been a few hours ago that he'd pulled himself out of the internet rabbit hole and collapsed into bed. Sorely regretting the strange high, as a sleep-deprived headache banged into his skull. If only he had just knocked back a few sleeping pills. "We can sleep the entire week once we get home, just got to make it through this one day." He muttered to himself as he fought to peel open his heavy-lidded chestnut orbs.

He was beginning to fade off again, his body caught between sleep and waking when his second alarm shrieked at him. The sound was so sudden and loud he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound. A half shout escaped his lips as he fell hard out of bed, hitting the hardwood floor with a distinct thud. Disoriented he ran his hand through his ebony hair, he was more awake now, and telling by the resounding knock banging against his bedroom wall so was his roommate. The wall adjoined his room to the short computer technology student of his roommate. The other wasn't the most people-friendly of a person. He also worked night at a Chinese restraint, making him a volatile grump in the morning. Alwyn would have to be careful not to make too much noise for the rest of the morning.

Though he wouldn't complain too loudly about him. Other than the unpleasant personality the other student wasn't a terrible roommate; he was quiet, clean, and didn't mind the surplus of plants Alwyn kept around the apartment. He was much better than his first-year roommate. The frat boy had been intolerable; parties held at the flat every weekend made it impossible for him to study, and the man loved to masquerade his dates around the apartment like trophies. More than the once Alwyn had walked in on the male having sex in their common space; years of therapy would not be enough to clear the images from his mind. So, no he didn't mind taking extra time to watch his noise levels, and he would deal with the awkward silences and disdainful glares. Anything to save himself from more scarring memories.

Alwyn wasn't one for fashion, preferring a comfortable pair of jeans and a warm flannel pull over. He shuffled though the pile of laundry building up on the floor of his room until he found a relatively clean pair of acid washed jeans and shirt. With a short pit stop in the bathroom for hair gel he lifted the front locks out of his face and rushed out the dorms front door. If he hurried the raven might have time to hit the campus coffee shop before his morning class. 

The coffee shop was a quaint and modern spin off store with a bustling hipster vibe. Large windows took up the far-left side wall and an assortment of comfy chair were scattered about among a random set of steel tables. It had a homey feel to Alwyn; maybe it was the vision of students working away on laptops, or the rich smell of freshly ground beans, but whatever it was the shop melted away his stress the moment he crossed it's threshold. It's assortment of mixed drinks was better than any other place within distance of the university making it the only place for students to go. But the food and atmosphere weren't the only reasons why this shop was his favourite. No, it was the stunning strawberry blonde barista behind the counter that captivated his attention. She was absolutely stunning with a set of perfect full lips, and intense emerald green eyes. She was damn near perfection in Alwyn's mind, and totally out of his league. Her curls landed softly on her shoulders, cascading like a sea of silk. The line of half-asleep patrons seeking a chemical-induced focus gave him time to admire her before the icy glass of her gaze cut to him, calling him forward. She barely glanced up at him as she took his order and asked for his name. 

"Wyn," He told her. It was probably the hundredth time in the last month alone that he'd told her his name. It hurt that she didn't ever remember him, but he still hoped that one day she would look up at him, that their eyes would meet, and she'd know they were soul-mates. As she dismissed him and called up the next customer he resigned himself to the knowledge that today wasn't that day. 

There were a few students littered around the tables with books and computers stationed in front as they studied. He could never study in somewhere so busy, too many distractions. Not to mention the attractive barista, he'd spend more time watching her than the words in his notebooks. Definity not the most conducive place to studies. He thought as he tried to avoid watching the ginger.

A hasty "Fin," was called out as the worker held out his cinnamon double expresso coffee. Grabbing the drink, he offered a thankful smile before heading off to his morning class. At least he had a delicious drink to soothe his rebuffed emotions.

For as long as he could remember Alwyn had loved plants. He loved learning about them, caring for them, and finding new uses for them. Before she had passed, it had been one of the few things he and his mother had bonded over. Now he was a herbology student with a dream of becoming a botanist and perhaps one day owning his own herbal remedy shop. Perhaps it was an odd dream, but it suited him. He excelled in all his herbology classes, in fact his morning class today was one of his favourites. The teacher was this wiry old woman, with shaking hands and glasses as thick as coke bottles, but he voice was strong and full of passion as she lectured on the historical uses of plants and the rise of herbology alongside modern medicine. Normally her class would be followed by a three-hour lab but as it was the last day before the break Alwyn found himself with a spare before his mineralogy class at one. It made for a short day, giving him plenty of time to finish the packing he had neglected the night before. 

Before Alwyn knew it, the day was over, and he was seated on the train, punched ticket in his hand, green case tucked above him in the stowing compartment. He was heading home for the first time in over two years. Usually he used the break to work at this Chinese remedy shop in downtown, the extra money help ease the financial burden school created and he got to pick the owners brain. The shop keep was this short, old traditional Chinese woman with long greying hair that she kept tied back in a bun at the back of her neck. She stood tall, and accepted no bullshit, but she also had the most extensive knowledge of ancient medical practices. She would let him question her for hours about different remedies, and brewing techniques. Her teas were the best, he couldn't wait to try some of her methods on his father. The man hated tea, drank it only to appease his son, but Alwyn was hoping with this new system he'd be able to finally hook his dad on a healthy path.  

The raven was from a small town that sat three hours from the nearest city. Like most small towns they prided themselves on their caring hospitality, but in truth that warm gooey feeling was only extended to those who'd grown up in the forests cradled embrace. Most people who tried to move in found themselves on the receiving end of barely restrained hatred and an endless number of icy glares, till at last the newcomers couldn't take it and left. Luckily Alwyn was safe from their particular brand of bullying. Both his parents had roots in the town; his mother, a beautiful woman with silken blonde hair and eyes the colour of cherry wood, had lived in a small cottage just outside of the town, her family owning a flower shop that had been there longer than even the town itself; his father had moved back to the town after his dad-cu was diagnosed with dementia, he had been a young charming deputy, easily winning the towns approval and quickly catching the fancy of the towns florist. His father had shown him a photograph of their first date, they had been just outside the flower shop the two smiling at one another as someone off camera thought to capture their undeniable love. 

The image of his mother bustling shop of flourishing greens, her bright smile, and the soft feature of his dads face alight with love lingered in his mind as he watched the city growing smaller behind him, till the last light of the tallest skyscraper was snuffed out by the rising horizon. 

Memories of his childhood continued to filter through his mind as the train trudged forward. The boardwalk that made up the towns one business street was always bustling with housewives, shop keeps, and the occasional student playing hooky. Each shop face was painted with a different but equally as bright colour, the shop keeps often out front fixing a sign, doing up a display or simply greeting their neighbours as they walked by. Housewives would formulate in large groups on corners with their baby carriages or their coffees, gossiping about anything and everything. He could visualise the sounds and smells as his best friend Colin and he walked down the towns bustling main street. 

His best – and only – friend Connor would have them running up and down that street for hours as he chased whatever new story he'd invented. Alwyn remembered one time when his asthmatic friend believed the old man that owned the general store was some form of hobgoblin. By his deduction no human could survive in the hoarders nest that made up the man's so-called store, which left one alternative – the man wasn't human. He'd rummaged through Alwyn's mother's old mythology books for hours before exclaiming "hobgoblin!" But like all of Connors supernatural hunts it ended with them in his father's office, with an angry resident complaining that they would not tolerate any further harassment, and if they saw us sniffing around again they'd press charges. 

The town itself was only six residential streets long, with only the one business street that held the town hall, and sheriff's office. It was a quiet town, politics of fencing and property lines making up the only true disputes. So, it was really no surprise that the truly interesting things were ones made up in their imaginations. 

His mother gave the best fuel for imaginations. She'd fill his head with all sorts of old stories about creatures living in the woods, as they would hick through the deep forests. Wood sprites that would grant wishes to those willing to bargain, and shape shifting tricksters whose only goal was havoc. The forest had seemed magical, and the way his mother would tell the stories he just knew they had to be real. And when she'd gotten sick he had spent days and night searching for those sprites. He had knocked on every tree he could find, willing to bargain anything if they would grant his wish – the wish to see his mother well again, for her to be healed and live a long life with him and his father. But he never found them.

His earlier exhaustion was working its way back up to the forefront, pulling his eyelids closed as the memorises drowned him. It's a long train ride, he thought as he let the darkness take him under. At least long enough for a small nap.