@Erranruin and @EMajyyks A WOLF AMONG MANY It had been a two hour drive from Kabul before Jenavere and her talkative father had finally reached the outskirts of a small, rural village. They had just landed in Kabul, Afghanistan yesterday, but decided it was best to wait a day before traveling to their real destination. It was a village called Hekat where a young witch lived and catered to the residents of the village. Mr. Petrova claimed she was superb at stretching out her spells so they lasted longer as well as creating perfect magical seals. He was going to drop Jen off for three days and then do some business back in Kabul. Brisone Petrova was an older man with wispy grey hairs behind his ears and a strong love for drinking games. He had a gruff voice, but there was hidden power behind his boyish smile. Jen was a bit peeved he was leaving her, like any twenty-three year old would be, but once he had told her how happy he was... She couldn't help but let that anger go. It was only three days--what could happen? Mr. P seemed to be engrossed in a conversation with himself, but he was speaking to Jen... She just wasn't listening. If you payed close attention though you could hear him going off about faeries and the desert ones that lived in these types of countries. "These villages are dry, warm, and perfect for the little buggers. I think--" No, she was trying to sleep. Sorry dad, but jetlag is killing me. Her neck was also killing her. It was pulsing against her jugular, making her throat seem swollen, and the wound covering her right thigh was burning like crazy, almost like it was being pricked with pins and needles; it felt infected, but the doctors claimed everything was in working order... Jenavere blocked out the road where her thoughts were leading and took a deep breath. Her head fell against the window of the truck, her eyelids fluttering closed and her father's voice faded in her ears. "Only fifteen more minutes kiddo..."