30: New Jersey
Anyra
I look out the window, dark fields of green streaming passed and tall trees looming above. While the land is flatter than what I’m used to, there is still a gradual sweep of the hills that somehow calms me.
Cool wind hits my face from the open window, and I gratefully take in the fresh air, the smell of pine and oak reaching me.
Most shifters, as my mom has told me, prefer the quiet seclusion of forests and woods, deep in places untouched by humanity.
Very few packs make their way into denser cities or live among humans. More often than not, those who do are omegas who wouldn’t make it on their own otherwise.
It’s a hard life to be an omega. It makes me wonder how truly horrible my father must have been to make these people run all the way out here.