~ Chapter Six ~

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~ Chapter Six ~

"...there's...a wolf...in all of us. They are sides of our own character."

Richard Roxburgh

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I gripped the sheets so hard I felt my nails dig into my skin. I flinched as the doctor lay a cool hand over my forehead. His meticulous eyes swept my features, pausing as they reached my clenched fists. Sweat poured down my back and my stomach twisted.

"It's very unusual." he commented thoughtfully. Maicoh snarled from the opposite side of the bed.

"What do we do?" he snapped, those silvery eyes catching fire. The doctor merely cast him a glance of surprise, as if realising he was there. I on the other hand was acutely aware of his presence. My brother stood at the end of the bed, eyeing me worriedly.

"She's in pain. Why?" he asked sharply. The doctors glasses glinted in the white light of the school hospital, his hair looking as greasy as seal skin. I shuddered as Maicoh preened my hand from the sheets and took it in his own. I felt my Stag jerk and I winced as a stabbing pain shot through my body.

"Do you not have any pain killer?" Maicoh almost shouted in agitation. The doctor shook his head in astonishment.

"This pain isn't physical, it's spiritual. Only she can overcome it." he remarked detachedly.

"What's causing it?" I looked to my fathers shadow in the doorway. I held out my other hand to him. It felt childish but he came to my bedside and took it without judgment. His eyes betrayed his tiredness. They were water rimmed and bloodshot. I shivered as Maicoh stroked the inside of my arm, the soft feathery touches as apparent as if he had hit me. The doctor noticed.

"So close to full moon she is being overloaded with stimulus." he commented matter-of-factly.

"Stimulus?" everyone in the room echoed. I became mesmerised by the slow, swirling movements of Maicoh's fingers, the gnawing pain being blissfully forgotten. The doctor nodded.

"She is being confronted by many factors which her Stag and herself have too many conflicting interests. Her Stag wants to run but she doesn't. Her Stag wants to flaunt itself but she doesn't. Her Stag wants to attract all the wolves..." he trailed off and looked at Maicoh pointedly, "but she doesn't. It's no wonder it doesn't want to revert back to its underlying status. In its eyes, Maeve is doing everything wrong." Maicoh growled quietly, his fingers pausing.

My body crumpled as the pain shot through my head. I cut off my shout only to let out a whimper. My father rested his hand upon my head, his brow furrowing.

"If its spiritual, why is it causing physical stress?" he muttered.

"Because she is fighting it." Conan threw his hands up in the air and sighed. Nobody except me looked at him. Maicoh and my father's eyes met across the bed and I knew that they all knew something I didn't.

"What, so you want her to give into her primal urges? That's what the wild hunt is for. Hasn't she been through enough? This is dangerous, like this she could easily go Spirit-side." he protested angrily. Maicoh's low guttural growl filled the silence but Conan just glared at him moodily from the other corner of the room.

"She needs time alone. Maybe the lack of stimulus will help bring her under control." the young doctor hypothesised. A surge of panic ran through me. Conan noticed the glint of fear in my eyes.

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