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<i>sequoia fowler </i></div><br/>
Maple Grove | 10:55pm | Sal's Bar<br/>
<br/>
Sequoia was here a month earlier than his usual visit, but his mother just wouldn't accept him missing his father's birthday, even if he wasn't here this year to celebrate with them. It'd been seven months since his death; had he not died from a heart attack, it'd be considered murder in their opinion. The pack saw him almost two hundred days out of the year, more since he was on his path to being Alpha. At least, that was the plan. Shouldn't the woman that carried him for nine months, twenty-sex hard hours of labor . . .didn't she deserve to see her son for longer than a week at a time? The Lycan wasn't upset. He loved his mother and admittedly, he felt terrible about canceling on her the month prior. Especially in knowing how lonely she had been since his father's passing. Things had just been so hectic back home, his other home. The leaders were resistant to changing their ways, still stuck in their old traditions and the youth were pushing more into the city. One would think nothing could beat the thousands of acres of tall trees and beautiful crystal clear lakes – but for the younger wolves they yearned for more: less responsibilities, an exciting nightlife . . and dependable internet service. The wolves that lived in Mystic Creek were either still fledglings, didn't have much of a choice, or just waiting for the right moment to leave. <br/>
<br/>
No one was held prisoner, but there was something about preserving the last corner of Lycan territory that was important. For years there'd been peace between humans and wolves, an understanding that they stuck to their respective sides. But there's been such a high demand to encroach on their little piece of utopia – hopes to turn it into something, anything that would be deemed profitable. And times had changed. Hadn't they? Wolves and humans weren't constantly fighting and killing one another over land, the treaty had solved that problem. And there was no real danger . . .no hunters ready to skin them for rugs and fur coats. So did they need to stick with what seemed like archaic ways of packs and alphas. . . <br/>
<br/>
The mysticism seemed to die when his father did. <br/>
<br/>
Sequoia hadn't exactly made it clear that he did not plan to follow in his father's footsteps as Alpha, leaving Cassius to take on as interim Chief. But he was shrinking more and more out of his duties. If he wasn't Alpha though, who was he? Could he rightfully remain in his cabin in the woods without feeling like he was the outsider? By the end of December, if Sequoia didn't officially take the position then the title would be lost – centuries of their family being in power gone in the wind. His mother would understand, but he had fears he'd face his father in the afterworld when he passed on and he would be less than pleased. It was just a lot of pressure to put on a man his age and sure, twenty-seven was no young pup, but being Alpha wasn't exactly a walk in the park. He'd not only have to oversee his own pack but work with the others in the area and there were plenty who were less than friendly. If there were any weakened openings, they'd soon find they didn't just have the locals to worry about stripping their land from beneath their paws.<br/>
<br/>
"Another?" Annie inquired on her second round trip across the bar. Sequoia was pulled from the little bubble he'd formed in the corner of the bar, tucked right against the dark blue walls. It wasn't that pleasant of a seat being right next to the bathroom, but it kept him out of the way. Soft classic rock playing from the jukebox pushed through the static like silence of being in his own head. She shook the bottle of Jameson in front of him and he pushed his glass forward.<br/>
"Please." His mother could see something was bothering him and she had tried to work it out of her son at the doorstep of their family home. Drowning the thought away felt much better. She would've liked for him to stay another night, but a week was already too long and he hadn't even seen his best friend most of his visit.<br/>
<br/>
She hadn't cleaned out his father's study, leaving it almost as the same as when he left home. Every time he walked pass, he'd to force back the sound of a pathetic whimper, somehow managing to keep from breathing until he was safe from the possible reach of his father's lingering scent. Sometimes his arms still felt heavy as the day he found Kona Fowler, dead from trying to protect their land from a couple of rogues that found their way passing through. And they did, managing to get through the three wolf defense that bordered Mystic Creek. His father was much too old to be out there, but despite being a leader . . .he made it clear that there was no duty beneath him. Sequoia surmised that things it would only get worse and it led him to wonder if it was worth it to still stick to their guns. The territories around them were beginning to change, rogue wolves coming from the West with the vigilance of wild bandits ready to take whatever they could. Their pack had just been too big to take on with as little a collection they had . . . though there was something on the other side they were trying to get to. And it was worth the risk of going through their land rather than around. Casius believed they were being scoped out however, he was always just a bit more paranoid. Paranoid or precautious? He'd all the making of an Alpha.<br/>
<br/>
Sequoia had never been as full in his position as the heir to the title, but it was expected to be given to him and he was expected to have accepted the offer, especially after his father's death; and yet he'd denied it. <br/>
<br/>
 Maybe the younger wolves did have the right idea. It was time to fully integrate themselves into the suburban world, be a part of a society that would welcome them. He couldn't say with open arms . . . but was a normal existence so terrible? Their numbers were declining as is, not as quickly, but noticeably over the years.<br/>
<br/>
His warm brown eyes watched as the liquid filled nearly to the top of the glass, the pleasant woodsy scent tickling his nose as he drew it to his lips. He'd have to make this his last one or Annie would have to pour him into an Uber, and it seemed cruel to go back to his mother this late, drunk at that. He smacked his lips, welcoming the familiar warmth that stretched down his throat. Long flighty digits scrambled to run through the dark messy curled locks. There was nothing keeping him here anyways. Tyler, his best friend, his only friend really was out of town for the weekend. Usually, they shared a couple drinks before Sequoia left. He wasn't so shocked that he was busy, he had a girlfriend of three years and things were looking promising. . . serious.<br/>
<br/>
How soon, if ever, would it be when he had that moment? Found a spark in a woman's eyes that he'd work hard in making sure never went out; finding his mate to call his own and forever? Just like the responsibilities of being Alpha, that was something that Sequoia wasn't sure he was ready for at this moment.<br/>
<br/>
He started to toss the rest of his drink back quickly, figuring now was the time to get out here. The music selection had changed to something a bit more upbeat and the college kids surrounding the pool table were starting to get a bit rowdy. He stopped though as he felt a brief bit of wind against his neck, someone walking by him quickly. And normally it wouldn't have mattered to him, or he'd pay little attention, but Sequoia was distracted by a strong scent . . dirt. The smell was unmissable, rich, and fresh soil, soaked from rain – the undeniable smell of a fellow wolf. Though each one had their own marker, a personal scent was hard to ignore – and the stranger's was peppermint, so strong that it nearly replaced the oaky taste of the liquor in his mouth with Colgate. Sequoia's bushy dark brow raised toward his hairline and he tried to follow the trail that disappeared behind a couple of women who'd just entered the bar. He wouldn't have paid any mind, he wasn't the only wolf in the area . . . but this smell was new.<br/>
<br/>
A low growl vibrated in his chest and he turned in his seat for a better view. The wolf didn't seem like trouble, at least this isn't the place to start it, but considering his history with foreigners . . .he wasn't particularly pleased. It wasn't his place to kick him out either, they were on neutral territory technically or as long as the other wolf hadn't caused any trouble, Sequoia had no grounds for confrontation.<br/>
<br/>
But that didn't mean he couldn't have his eye on him, especially as Sequoia watched the man sit at a table where he spotted a very familiar face: Tyler's sister.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
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