Damn it! Blake thought, slamming her car door hard. The tough frame of her ancient truck shook and the wheels screached as it settled back to its stalled state. Since she had left home three weeks ago, Blake hadn't had time to get the car's oil changed and now the battery had died along with it. Well isn't this just wonderful? She almost spoke the words out loud but stopped herself when she realized how that would make her seem crazy. But 21 days of no human contact other than a few truck drivers at the rest stations along the interstate highway was beginning to have a severe effect on her sanity. Blake wasn't crazy. The only reason she had picked herself up and driven over 2 thousand miles to her first home was to find out all the things that were pushing her to the brink of loosing it. Blake was here for answers. She wanted to know why her mother mysteriously got up and left when her life seemed perfectly fine. If there was one thing she did know, it was that her mother would never leave her. Blake was her only daughter and she would do anything for her, she would never just go without notice - at least not without taking Blake with her. And why couldn't her father look at her for more than two seconds? Or say more than one sentance that had to do with something more intellectual than "Can you pass the salt?" Was there a reason other than her granfather's passing that Blake's father forced their whole family to move to middle of nowhere, Texas?

In school, Blake had been meeting with her counselor and was constantly being told that she had to figure out what she wanted to do with her life so she could start the dreded college application process. But the truth was, Blake didn't know what to do with her life because quite frankly, she didn't really know who she was period. She knew nothing more about her heritage than the old stories her grandfather had told her and those couldn't be true. Her father told her time and time again that they were just old fables her grandfather made up to keep her entertained as a child. Anyway, there was no possible way that humans could have decended from wolves and could still to this day transform back into their true shape. All of the biology classes had taught her otherwise. Humans had evolved from some type of monkey, not a dog. Blake tried finding out from her father exactly where she came from, but all she got were empty answers and sideways glances. When she told her counselor she had no idea where she was from, he told her, "You can't know where you're going until you know where you've been."

That's where the journey started. In a matter of a few hours, Blake had packed her things, piled them into her truck and driven off, leaving only a note to her father stating that she was going to look for herself, she'd be back when she found whatever she'd been looking for. Not once did she think to turn back along her journey. Her mind was set and as much as she knew it probably broke her father's heart for her to leave, Blake didn't care. This was far to important for her. For once, she was doing something for herself and she honestly didn't care what anyone else thought about it. The only problem with a 2500 mile drive in a rickety old truck were two things. A) gas. Blake's wallet was quickley dwindling and she desparately needed a job. And B) parts on the car didn't last quite as long as those on a nice new car. But due to part A, a new car was going to have to wait. At least she had made it to town. Now the question of the hour was, where to go from here?

Blake pulled her duffel from the trunk of her car and started walking. As she looked to the dark ominice sky above, she crossed her fingers that the weather would be forgiving and take into consideration her state of being - aka no umbrella, no waterproof jacket, and no shelter. Blake was wearing the only pair of jeans she owned and a heavy sweatshirt. The clothes were barely enough to keep the cold out, but should she become drenched, there was a good chance she would catch hypothermia. She walked with her arms folded across her chest and bag strap strung over her shoulder. As to where exactly she was walking, Blake didn't have the faintest idea. It had been nearly 10 years since she had last been to La Push Reservation. Most of the memories she had of this place were in her house or had faded with time. None of the trees or winding roads looked familiar to her.

Blake was near ready to just sit herself in the middle of the street and wait for someone to come driving by when she found herself on a beach. This beach was different though. Whenever the word beach came to mind, Blake pictured a bright sun, blue waves that turned white just before they tumbled onto the shore, making the rocks and seaweed dance around each other before placing them back on the yellow sand and drifting away, only to come back and start over again. The beaches back home were always warm and happy, but here, the dark, grey waves were spooky, appearing more dangerous than playful. No sun shinned here. The sun didn't even peak though from behind the dark clouds. The tone of this beach was much more depressing. Blake took a deep breath in and dropped into the cold, damp sand. If she wasn't already annoyed, she would have complained having to get wet and sandy, but no one was there to listen to her anyway. She curled her arms around her legs, placing her chin on her knees and watched the waves crash onto the sand. Why did her memories of this place seem so much happier than what she saw before her? She remembered running though flocks of birds and picking up snails and crabs in the little tide pools. None of this seemed familiar, none of this seemed like home. On top of the other million questions Blake had been asking herself, a new one began to form just to top the pile off.

What was she doing here?