VIII-Those Who Wander... [Conall]

[Charlotte Grace]

Look into my eyes, that's where my demons hide

The night settled over the city of New York, the weather muggy and rain threatening to fall. Charlotte settled into the little bed she had made for herself in the corner of an old building. It wasn’t comfortable, far from it but at least keeping on the move kept her from being pinpointed by the Rogue Society. Amusing how she didn’t even know if they were after her anymore but she couldn’t stop running. She was scared that if she settled that someone would ruin it. She couldn’t let that happen, not again…

So she kept living in places that made the orphanage she spent years in look like a five class hotel so she could keep on moving if it was necessary. Peering out the window, Charlotte rested her chin on the window sill and took in a deep breath. Say what you would about the accommodations, at least she had a fantastic view of New York City. She loved it in New York, the city that never slept stayed true to it’s name. Charlotte loved all the lights, all the life that existed when the sun went down. Not that she would go out at night, powers or not it wasn’t safe. All it took was a negator to be around and then what was she left with? Nothing! Gods, how paranoid she had become over the past two years. Not a surprise of course.

There had been a time when she had expected others to protect her. Her father Conall had tried but it hadn’t been enough. Had he tried to find her after she was taken? Did he still think about her? She often wondered this though she tried not to because despite tryin to be tough, it brought tears to her eyes. She missed Conall, the man she still considered to be her dad. She had tried finding him before but it was difficult opening up her mind to search for his, especially in a place as populated as New York City.

Still, tonight could be a good night to try.

Night time provided the best chance she had because searching the minds of those asleep was far less complicated than those awake. The mind was quieter at night as it went through the REM cycle and dreams were always amusing to watch. Charlotte found it almost to be therapeutic for her despite how odd it was at times to visit random people’s dreams as she searched for people she knew before. It was better than sleeping as she had been suffering from night terrors since she had been taken. When she had a night terror the whole neighbourhood would know because of her telekinetic power. Only downside to more power, it was more difficult to control when she herself wasn’t in control.

Lying down on the makeshift bed, she closed her eyes and relaxed her body. Going through dreams was still something she was learning to do and thus there was always a chance she wouldn’t be able to do it.

It was always a strange sensation as she hoped around in various minds, catching glimpses of different dreams. Innocent dreams, nightmares and the occasional ‘wet’ dream that left Charlotte feeling ashamed. Dreams were unpredictable things after all as were the minds that dreamt them.

On this night Charlotte would have the first stroke of luck in almost a year of looking, she found the mind of Conall St Alban and he was in fact asleep somewhere in Manhattan. The question was whether she should slip into his dream given his propensity for dirty thoughts…

Eh, what the hell?

Charlotte dove in and found herself in Conall’s dream though what she would find she had yet to really discern. All she knew was she wanted to find him. “Dad!?” She yelled loudly, speaking aloud as she was able to given it was a dream. “Dad are you here?”

[Conall Saint Albans]

I was saved, saved, saved
Ooh, ooh
The world does not lie
The place of paradise

Somewhere in Central Park
Manhattan, New York

[dropcap]As per his usual, his days were spent toiling at Pog Mo Thoin tailoring exquisite clothing for CEO's and other executives who flew in from all corners of the globe for a genuine Saint Albans sport jacket or bespoke tuxedo. It never got tiring, though. He'd really seemed to hit it off quite well with the combined bar and bespoke clothing shop. His critics had their doubts at first and it did take a little while (and a lot of social networking) to get the word out, but now he'd made a nice little niche for himself.

His nights, however, were usually sleepless. The time between dusk and dawn he spent trying to locate his daughter. When conventional methods like pleas to the media and private investigators failed, he decided to put his own nose to the grindstone and attempt to pursue her as well as he could. He still had most of the stuffed animals she owned, and they were still full of her scent. All of his shifts had exception senses of smell, though a few of them looked out of place in Central Park. Most of the Park's common visitors recognised his wolf by the distinct pink, spiked leather collar he wore with dog tags proving that he'd had his rabies vaccination.

Like most other nights, this night brought up nothing new. He lost her scent. He'd managed to track it much further than he had before, but attempting to follow one scent in a city known for its variety of odours was like attempting to find the proverbial needle in a haystack.

Rather than return home defeated, he settled for falling asleep under a park bench. He could smell the rain in the air, and while he would have preferred to have been inside, that simply wasn't an option. He was used to sleeping near one of the places where he and Janet had regularly taken Charlotte, hoping that she'd one day return. After all, the best way to be found after being lost was to stay in the same place.

He drifted off to sleep and soon found himself in familiar surroundings. He was in the middle of a forest—it resembled the one that backed up onto Davin's property. Great place to hunt deer. As in most of his predatory dreams, he was tracking prey. There was a deer roughly a mile away from his current position, and the wind was blowing in his favour. As long as he stayed down wind of the animal, his odds of having a successful kill were great.

Staying low in the shrubs and underbrush which blanketed the forest floor, he began the slow task of tracking the deer down. It was another few minutes before he had the much larger animal in his sights. Damn shame he had to kill a doe, but he could tell from her gait that she'd been shot in her left hind leg. It hadn't been a killing shot (obviously), but the bone it hit had never healed properly. He'd be doing her a favour by not leaving her for another predator.

He crouched down as the doe lifted her head and looked around. Deer had superb eyesight in the daylight hours, but their night vision was terrible. It was bright outside, if a bit cloudy; those were just odds he would have to deal with.

When the doe's attention was diverted once again, he slowly crept up behind her until he was well within sprinting distance. He could hit her on her weak side and take her down easily enough. The deer lifted her head again, ears swivelling wildly as if she were trying to pinpoint the source of a voice. He'd heard something as well, but wasn't sure where the sound was coming from. Spooked by the sudden, unexplainable noise, the doe bounded off into the maze of trees where Conall finally lost sight of her. Oh well. There would be other kills.

And then he heard the noise again—only this time, it wasn't a noise. It was a voice that he recognised clear as day. “Dad are you here?”

Was it really her? He scanned the trees for any sign of the young girl and followed her voice. He found her a few hundred feet away wandering through a small copse of evergreens and ran up to her, tail wagging madly from side to side. He whined at her and sniffed at her clothes just to be sure. It really was her! But how had she managed to find him in a dream, of all places? He knew that she was a telepath, so that might have been in. “Charlotte!” Even in his dreams when he attempted to vocalise human sounds, his vocal cords would only allow for yips, barks,and howls. How was this even possible? He ran around her in circles, knowing that if he jumped on her like he so wanted to do, he'd probably knock her over. She was still no match for the strength of a wolf. “How did y' find me after all this time? Been tryin' t' track y' down fer months, now!” In his rush of excitement at being reunited with her, he lost his footing and fell over onto his side, panting heavily. This reunion was far better than catching a deer. “Where are you? Are y' in a safe place? I'm gonna have t' get yeh an' take yeh back home.”[/dropcap]

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♂ Word count: 987
♂ Mood: My breath is stinky.
♂ Outfit: Wolf. lol
♂ Lyrics / Quote: Saved, Bauhaus
♂ Illustrations: None.
♂ Comment / Informational links: Why do I have to go to work today. -.-