So, this is just some background on Skye's world...don't worry, the boys are coming!

     I pulled the heavy bucket up from the bottom of the well, water sloshing and my arm protesting. Ignoring the ever-present ache in my scarred forearm, I filled my plastic water bottle and clipped it to my belt with a carabiner. I stooped slightly, brushing off my dusty jeans, and patted my horse Anubis. He nudged me back, and I checked that my bow was in place. It was, and I carefully swung my leg over his back. 
    I looked around, my cowgirl hat shielding my eyes from the late afternoon Nevada desert sun. There was a cloud of dust to the west, and watched it come steadily closer. Someone was moving out in the desert, and I didn't want them to find me. Spurring on Anubis, we rode for the green Sierra hills in the distance.
    My house was right near the California-Nevada border, and I was always within riding distance of the Nevada desert and Sierra mountains. I lived in the cozy log cabin with Luke, my guardian. 
    Anubis carried me into the green forest, and I breathed the crisp air with relief. I took a swig from my water bottle and pushed my hat back. It hung down in between my shoulder blades, and I checked that my long black hair was still in its braid. It was, and I let myself relax as much as possible in the forest. 
    I made a round through my forest, checking the wire snares I had set. I caught two rabbits, and shot down a dove with my bow. Back in the day, I would've waited until dove season to hunt, but I laughed at that now. Now you killed what you could when you could, not knowing when there would be more. 
    I heard a rustling in the woods, and my hand jumped toward the .45 in my saddle bag. It was nothing, but I still listened hard. I saw a coyote run the other way, but I let it go. I never could kill anything like a dog, no matter how desperate I was. Not even since the attack. 
    I pushed Anubis on, wanting to arrive at the cabin in time to make dinner. It was getting late to be making my planned stew, and I didn't want Luke to worry. A whistle pierced the forest, and I jerked my head up. Luke would never be so obvious, and I cursed. It was either a foolish Mundie or an Occult out here with his buddies. 
    I pulled my hat low, ducking, and kicked Anubis into a gallop. We reached the log cabin and I sighed with relief when I saw white smoke curl from the chimney. White smoke wasn't as obvious as gray smoke, and Luke and I used it often. 
    I made my way to the smaller oak barn and put Anubis in his stall. I undid his tack, brushing him and washing the leather saddle and bridle carefully. Locking the barn door with its leather ties, I said hello to Hellfire, Luke's horse. He was a magnificently large thoroughbred, thick with russet muscles.
    I'll admit, Hellfire scared me a little with his size. I'm five foot nothing, with a curvy muscular build and blue eyes. Luke says I'm pretty, but he's like my dad—it's kind of part of the job. I walked out of the barn into the cabin and checked my knife was still in its sheath. Luke gave it to me for my fifteenth birthday, and I treasured it. 
    I kicked off my boots and looked around, calling out quietly. 
    "Luke?" I called, checking the cabin for possible entrances and exits if something went down. 
    "Skye, I've been worried sick!" Luke replied, poking his head out from the kitchen. He was making a snack, and I rolled my eyes at men's appetites. I held up the game I had caught and he smiled. 
    "You know I can handle myself." I said, limping slightly as I walked toward the kitchen. 
    "Is your hip still bothering you?" Luke asked, taking the game and boiling a pot of water on the stove. I moved to prepare the meat, but he gestured to the kitchen table. "Sit, darling." I obeyed, sighing as I took the weight off my aching hip. 
    "Yeah, but I'm fine." I said, massaging the old scars gently. Luke started boiling the meat with onions in the water, adding seasoning from the spice cabinets. 
    "Do any of your other injuries hurt?" Luke asked, his tone gentle. His brown eyes were kind, and his swept back his blonde hair. He was about forty, but his face was slightly lined. He'd been through a lot, like me, but he took it well. 
    "My arm always troubles me, but I think my side's healing. It's just my hip." I said, pulling up the sleeve to my collared button-down and tracing the scars. The ones on my right arm spread from the back of my hand, twisting around my wrist, and cut brutally up my shoulder. There were three individual scars, made from the claws that tore my flesh to shreds. 
    "How's your—your face?" Luke hesitated slightly, not wanting to upset me. I touched my fingers to the scars on my right cheek and shrugged. 
    "They don't hurt." I said, imagining what my face might look like without the scars. The silvery lines would be gone, the ones that pulled my mouth down in a frown. 
    "That's the important thing." Luke said, stirring the soup. He looked down at my hands and frowned, and I followed his gaze. They were filthy, and Luke looked at me sternly. 
    "Go wash your hands." Luke said. I stood, nodding, and shuffled to the bathroom. "And change into something clean!" Luke called. 
    I walked up the wood stairs slowly, nursing the ache in my hip. Getting to the hallway, I walked into my bedroom and sighed. A tall mirror rested in the corner, and another one was atop my dresser. My bed was in the middle of the room, and my shelves of books were on the other side. A box was on my dresser, and I tucked it under my bed. It was my secret box, full of things from the before. 
    Deciding Luke would give me time, I went to the bathroom. I had been amazed when I had first found Luke to discover his cabin in the woods had working plumbing and electricity. Before him, I had not even had a hot bath for weeks. Somehow, the plumbing and electricity still worked, even now. Luke was truly a miracle worker, and I blessed him again as I started a hot bath.
    Laying out plush towels, I grabbed a bar of soap and sunk into the hot bath. I sighed as the aches in my hip and arm melted slowly, and I scrubbed myself thoroughly. Washing out my hair, I smiled softly. Luke had kept many of his things from the before, and he had a lifetime supply of things like soap.
    When I was clean, I drained the tub and wrapped my myself in the warm towel. I brushed out my hair and braided it. Walking across the narrow hall, I savored the decrease in pain. I closed my bedroom door, and dried myself off. 
    Touching the necklace hanging around my throat, I remembered the woman who had worn it. The woman from the before. She was kind, with soft hands, and she smelled of lavender. There was a man from the before too, one with blue eyes like mine and a big laugh. I remembered how they had danced in the before, holding each other close while another boy next to me would watch. He was older, with kind eyes and a strong spirit. 
    Tearing my fingers from the necklace and the memories from my mind, I felt hot tears slip down my scarred cheek. I turned, catching sight of myself in the mirror and looked hard. Thick silver scars twined up and across my arm and shoulder, tracing a path down my side and ending at my right mid-thigh. I looked at my face, marred by the scars, and tried to smile. One side of my mouth went up, but the other side went down. 
    I shook my head, pulling underwear and sweatpants from a dresser drawer. A sports bra and t-shirt covered my other scars, and I pulled an old hoodie of Luke's on over them. I walked downstairs and sniffed the air appreciatively. 
    The smell of Luke from his sweatshirt and the scent of stew mingled, creating a perfume that smelled of home. I sat at the kitchen table and watched as Luke served stew and poured water. 
    "Thank you." I said, watching as Luke sat. He said a quick prayer, then we dug in. 
    "So," Luke said, chewing thoughtfully, "see anything strange today?" I swallowed before replying. 
    "Just a dust cloud from the west. But I heard something strange." I said, spooning up another bite of stew. Luke looked at me with interest, slurping down some water. 
    "I heard a whistle. A loud whistle, in the forest." I looked down at the grained table. "Was it you?" I asked Luke, watching as he chewed. 
    "No. I didn't whistle. You know I use birds to talk." Luke said, clearing his plate and washing it. I did the same with mine, drying and shelving our dishes. 
    "I didn't think it sounded like your whistle. It must've been a really stupid Mundie, or an Occult looking for a friend." I said, sponging down the table with a rag. Luke ran his hand through his hair, a bad habit, and frowned. 
    "If it was just a stupid Mundie, it'll probably move on. If it was an Occult, we've got problems. I don't want you going into the woods tomorrow." Luke said sternly, the fixed blade at his hip. He still hadn't changed into his comfier clothes, and I frowned. 
    "What about food?" I asked, eyeing the refrigerator. Luke shrugged, slouching his lean frame against the wall with his hands in his pockets. 
    "We have enough for tomorrow. We also have that jerky. That can last us for a month if worst comes to worst." Luke said. I nodded, watching as he went outside to feed the horses. 
    Luke was a farmer in the before. He had a ranch, with this little cabin as his getaway. Then his life changed, just like everyone else's. I think he was military before he was a farmer, but he doesn't say much about it. He can handle a gun better than me, and taught me hand-to-hand combat and tactical procedures since I was twelve. I came to him about three years ago, and I'm glad I found him. 
    My family from the before was loving and strong, but it's gone now. Killed by Occults, the same night I got my scars. I walked into the small sitting room and built up a fire. It warmed me and the room, and Luke smiled when he came back in. 
    "Let me change, and then we'll have a go." Luke smiled again, walking upstairs to his room. I took the old chess set out from it place in the drawer and set it up. 
    Luke sat down across from me, and for an hour we just played chess. The fire snapped and popped, filling the room with warmth. Luke finally beat me, and he pushed back from the table. 
    "Time for bed." Luke said. He locked the doors and windows, although that wouldn't slow must Occults down. Before the war, I would go to bed safe and warm without locks to keep the monsters out. Now, I was lucky every day the monsters didn't come in. 
    I walked upstairs and sunk into my soft bed, curling up on my side. I went to sleep quickly, falling into my familiar nightmare.
    Teeth and claws tore at me as I ran through the forest. Eerie howls and footsteps followed me as I sprinted on. A heavy weight hit my back, and I went down hard. An awful creature snorted hot air in my ear, and I whimpered. Claws sunk into my back, and I screamed.         A loud howl tore through my dream, and I jolted up in bed. Sweat stuck my clothes to my frame, and I listened hard. A howl sounded again in the woods outside the house, and I jumped out of bed. Unlike the howls in my dream, this one was very real. I ran into Luke's bedroom, watching as he looked out his small window. 
    "Luke, did you hear that?" I asked frantically, the knife I grabbed on my way out. Luke raised a finger to his lips, and pulled me into a hug. 
    I jumped when yet another loud howl sounded, cut off by a very human yell. Luke opened the drawer next to him and pulled out a handgun. He loaded it quickly, and I unsheathed my knife. 
    "An Occult." Luke whispered, meaning the howls outside. I nodded, and we walked into the living room. Luke switched his chair around so he could face the door and I built up the fire. 
    "Werewolf?" I asked. Luke nodded, sitting down and laying the gun in his lap. I shuddered, realizing the same kind of Occult that attacked me and killed my family was in the woods right next to my cabin. 
    "What are we going to do?" I asked, sitting next to Luke. 
    "Watch the door. If it gets too close, I'll shoot it." Luke said, looking at me grimly. I nodded, biting my lip. 
    "What if it's just a young one?" I asked, leaning back. 
    "If it's just a young Occult, it won't come near the house." Luke said. I nodded again, and Luke told me to relax. He would watch for danger. As I drifted away in my thoughts, I remembered everything that had happened—in the before, and the after. 
    I had grown up in Tahoe City, California. I had a brother, mother and father. Everything was perfect. Until it wasn't. Three and a half years ago, the Occults came out to the world. Everything we told ourselves didn't exist, did. All of a sudden, there were werewolves and sorcerers and vampires. Things that shouldn't exist. Every kind of supernatural thing created was real, and they were in our world. For about half a year, we lived in peace. 
    Then, the shapeshifters and vampires fought. It leaked over to the sorcerers and elves. Soon, every supernatural race was at war with someone, and humans were in the way. Then, they just stopped fighting each other. The Occults—supernaturals—wanted more territory. They wanted more land, more resources. They wanted the human race gone. 
    Three years ago, war erupted. The humans, the mundane people—called Mundies—joined together as best they could. But Occults had everything we didn't, and we were fighting a losing battle. Only a few human towns still stood, and the remaining humans were either hiding, dead or Turned. 
    My family was slaughtered by a rogue pack of werewolves. I was wounded in the process, and I was found in the woods by Luke. Without him, I would've died. I smiled sleepily, closing my eyes. I loved Luke, he was a father to me, and I knew I was safe with him guarding the door. I allowed sleep to claim me, and I drifted away. 

So, here's the background...I hope everyone likes it, please comment, subscribe and upvote! 

<3

—Sujin