<div class="floatright">(http://25.media.tumblr.com/4241dafaef1a1a61c119ff61c36432ef/tumblr_meym4fT3u81rrb9xco1_500.jpg)<br/>                          <span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Ravi;"><em><strong>Sonora Hunter</strong></em></span></span></div>She sat at her desk, her arms resting to either side of the stack of file folders that had just landed on her desk.<em>Breathe in. Breathe out. Find your center. Control it.</em>The mantra turned over and over in her head as Sonora fought with her baser instincts. It was more difficult than usual tonight, taking twice as long as it normally did to control her urges. It seemed another weekend camping trip would be needed soon; she made a mental note to put in a request in the morning. When she felt it was finally under control, she opened her eyes, dragged the top file off the stack, and flipped it open.<br/><br/>Coroners reports. Autopsy reports. Crime scene photographs, witness statements. It was all there in black and white, yet Sonora was still having difficulty believing it. Her entire life, she'd had to hide herself, what she was. Orphaned as a baby, she had been one of the unlucky ones, shuffled around from foster home to foster home and group home to group home until she was eighteen. Sonora had put up with a lot, growing up the way she did, and being...well, being what she was had only made things more difficult. But now...now she knew there were others like her. She wasn't alone anymore.<br/><br/>Sonora read every file she could find, working well into the night. It wasn't that unusual, but she had a special interest in this. She fell asleep on the couch in her office in the early morning hours, her dreams filled with ghostly images of people she had never met welcoming her with open arms. Arms that shifted into legs covered with fur, and teeth that gleamed in the moonlight as they suddenly snarled and snapped, biting and tearing. Blood streamed, filling her nose with the scent of...coffee?<br/><br/>Snapping awake, Sonora lifted her grey-green eyes to find her friend, Cam, wafting a cup of Starbucks coffee under her nose. "Morning, sunshine!" he said cheerfully, his blue eyes crinkling as she groaned in response and flipped him the bird. "Now is that any way to treat the man who just brought you coffee?"<br/><br/>Grumbling sleepily, Sonora grabbed the coffee as he started to pull it away, glaring at him as she sat up. "Be lucky that's all I did. Damn you and your early morning cheerfulness. What time is it?" she asked, sipping gratefully at the strong, sweet coffee as she swung her feet down to the floor and watched Cam glance at the open folders on her desk with raised brows.<br/><br/>"Seven-thirty. Been doing a bit of light reading, I see," he commented, jerking his head at the open files on her desk. "What's all that about?"<br/><br/>"I've got a meeting with the Director at nine," she said in response, setting her coffee on the low coffee table and pushing her hands through her hair, "I want to get in on that new team they're assembling. Investigating this...werewolf threat." Sonora took another sip of her coffee, feeling her nerves starting to fray again as Cam frowned with concern.<br/><br/>"Are you sure that's wise?" he asked, making Sonora roll her eyes. "Jesus, Cam," she grumbled, getting up and pushing her feet into her shoes, "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."<em>More than you realize,</em>she added mentally, moving to tidy her desk. What was it with men? Did she honestly look like the type of woman who needed looking after? Piling the files together on her desk, she froze when she felt Cam's hand on her shoulder.<br/><br/>"Look," he started, "Sonny, I just meant that--"<br/><br/>Sonora closed her eyes, dreading what she feared might come out of his mouth next. She gave her head a shake, drew in a breath. "Cam--" she said, her tone warning him off.<br/><br/>"I<em>care</em>about you," he finished, ignoring her warning, "I don't want to see you get hurt."<br/><br/>Sonora sighed, moving away from her desk and out of Cam's reach. Why did they always do this? Why did she always have to choose? "Like I said," she responded, "I can take care of myself, Cam. Thanks for the coffee. I've got to go get cleaned up." Without looking at him, not wanting to see the hurt she was sure would be showing on his face, Sonora escaped her office. Cam was sweet, but he wouldn't be able to handle her. No man ever could. She hated that she hurt him that way, but it was for the best. It was always for the best. It was said that if you told yourself something often enough, you would start to believe it. She had been telling herself that for years, and she was still waiting to believe it.