She was walking home from school, and she could still remember every moment of her past as if it was the present. There was a chilling breeze in the air, rattling and brushing through each individual leaf and strand of grass around her. Unborn flowers curled upwards through the soil, climbing towards the almost cloudless sky above them to feed on the sun's light. Houses lined both sides of the narrow road, which stretched out and twisted in all sorts of directions. Each house had its own personality- its own story hidden in the depths of its walls.

At the time she was only young; eight years old to be exact, but her parents trusted her to come home, they knew she would be okay on her own. But she couldn't exactly say the same for her brother.

 He was the same age as her, but not as mature. Sometimes he would get distracted and wander off, and Cordy would always be the one to pull him back to the main path, telling him that they had to go the way they were told to go.

"We're not allowed," She would warn him. "We have to go this way so that if anything happens mom and dad will kinda know where we are."

And he would always reply with the same response. "Nothing's gonna happen to us Cordelia, so mom and dad will never know if we go home a different way." But she always won the argument, and he would always huff and mope behind Cordy for the rest of the way home.

That day she was alone, wandering down the neighbouring streets of Beacon Hills to the sounds of the beginning of spring. Footsteps rhythmically paced behind her, but her innocent and naïve younger self didn't think anything of it; they were just the footsteps of another person in Beacon Hills.

Of course, she didn't know that one person would change her life.

The person's footsteps grew closer and closer, gaining speed until a figure walked directly beside Cordy. She looked over at the smiling girl, who had slowed to match the speed of Cordy.

"You're Cordelia, aren't you?" The redhead asked, her voice was croaky and rough, but there was a soothing element to it. She beside Cordy with a certain determination, her loose fishtail braid bouncing with each step she took.

Cordy sped up, confronted with a sense of alarm and panic. How did the girl know her name? She hadn't seen her before, and she knew that for definite. The girl had a unique face; her chiselled cheekbones, her vivid blue eyes, her plump lips, they were hard to forget.

"Slow down there, Usain Bolt." The older girl chuckled, she didn't even have to speed up to catch Cordy. "You're on the track team, right? I've seen you run."

"I'm on the under tens team." She smugly replied. That was the one thing she had always been proud of; her running records. It was her favourite thing to do, even when she was only eight years old. Her mother had been into it, and Cordy followed the tradition with eagerness. Somehow, talking about running calmed her, it made her lose her sense of fear towards the girl.

"So you do have a voice. I heard about that wolf bite of yours. Painful, ay?"

"It came out of nowhere." Cordy told her, shivering at the memory. It had been a week since it had happened, since its teeth had scraped through the side of Cordy's stomach and torn her flesh apart. But hardly anyone knew about that, unlike most kids who would have shown everyone they could have, Cordy had kept that on the down low. Only her family, and two best friends knew about it. "How do you know that?"

"News travels." The girl shrugged. "It happened to me, too, 'bout a year ago. I went camping with some of my friends for my sixteenth birthday and, like you said, it just came from nowhere. But I guess that was to be expected in the forest."

Cordy nodded, looking up at the older girl as they neared the end of the street. She was glad someone else had been through a wolf attack too, although she felt bad about her happiness. It just felt good to know that she didn't have to explain the experience to her like with her parents and friends, they had all had so many questions and she hadn't known how to answer them. But the girl didn't have any questions, she already knew the answers.

Suddenly, the older girls, drawing Cordy to slow down and turn back to her in confusion.

"Why did you stop?"

"I live in that house." The girl said, pointing up at the house at the end of the street. "But, I just want to ask, has it healed? The wound, I mean. Has it healed? Because mine healed within a few days."

She nodded again, relief passing through her. Cordy had thought it was strange that the wolf bite had healed so quickly, but knowing that she wasn't the only one made her feel better. However, she couldn't say the same for the other girl, who wore a look of sadness and what seemed like guilt.

"What's wrong?" Cordy asked, cocking her head to the side slightly and furrowing her brows. She didn't understand why the girl was sad.

"It's just... it's a sign. Yeah I guess that's right." The girl smiled again, but this time it was more sympathetic than friendly. Cordy still didn't understand what she meant, so brushed it aside in the moment, hoping it didn't mean anything. "Are you walking home tomorrow? I can walk with you again, if you like. Meet you outside your school."

Cordy nodded again, a grin plastered across her face which then spread to the older girl. She liked the idea of having an older friend, mainly so that she could brag to her brother, who she knew would be extremely jealous. He would probably go looking for an older friend of his own.

"Oh, before you go," The girl held out her hand. "My name's Cara Lancaster."