Blaine Moore
Jour 1, tôt le matin
6 Cedarcrest Rd, résidence de Blaine
Blaine s'est réveillée avec un mal de tête battant à 9h30 et une démangeaison qui semblait englober tout son corps sous sa peau. Comme si une myriade de fourmis microscopiques marchaient anxieusement vers et vers. Blaine gémit et plongea un bras sur ses yeux dans la frustration. Elle détestait se réveiller tôt. Plus encore, elle détestait se réveiller tôt avec un mal de tête battant et une armée de fourmis marchant sans relâche sous sa peau. Elle s'est cognée les dents. Elle connaissait le sentiment. Son loup était dérangé. Et quand c'est arrivé, l'envie de changer était plus forte que d'habitude. Blaine a donné un coup de pied irritable aux draps, enchevêtré autour de ses jambes. Quand elle a finalement réussi à se libérer, elle a plongé les jambes hors du lit et s'est assise sur le bord avec la tête dans ses mains. Elle avait besoin de se centrer avant que son loup n'ait le meilleur d'elle et elle est partie pour les bois en peau. Elle n'était plus un chiot. C'est tout le contraire. Elle savait comment contrôler ses instincts d'animaux de base qui sont venus comme un contrat de paquet avec elle étant un loup-garou.
Blaine se leva et rembourra tranquillement pieds nus hors de sa chambre, à travers un couloir ou deux jusqu'à ce qu'elle soit devant la porte de derrière de sa maison qui s'ouvrit jusqu'à la cour arrière, qui semblait fusionner de façon transparente avec le parc de la région de conservation de la rivière Forest. Elle traversa sans paroles la surface lisse en bois de son porche arrière et descendit les quatre marches jusqu'à ce que ses pieds ressentent la douceur de l'herbe verte fraîche de sa pelouse. Elle s'arrêta pour permettre à ses sens de prendre pleinement dans la sensation de l'herbe entre ses orteils. L'humidité de la rosée fraîche du matin. Blaine a laissé le sentiment de l'ancrer dans son corps et a pris une profonde respiration d'air frais du matin. Elle s'exhala lentement. Puis inhalé à nouveau. Et exhalé une fois de plus permettant à la respiration profonde de la centrer. Lentement, elle s'est abaissée par terre. Le genou droit d'abord, que la gauche et se positionnait jusqu'à ce qu'elle soit assise à Seiza. C'était sa position préférée pour la méditation.
Les minutes se sont écoulées alors qu'elle s'est vidée de l'esprit et s'est concentrée sur sa respiration. En quelques minutes, elle inhala profondément et sonda plus profondément en elle-même et rencontra immédiatement l'anxiété de son loup. C'était palpable. Des pulsations et des rugissements. Les fourmis ont de nouveau commencé à marcher sous sa peau. Blaine n'a pas laissé le sentiment la submerger. Elle a continué la respiration calme, profonde et nettoyante. Après quelques minutes de plus, les fourmis se sont calmées et Blaine a respiré un soupir de soulagement. Elle avait réussi à calmer son loup, mais l'anxiété était toujours là. Ses instincts d'animaux ramassaient quelque chose qui soulevait ses hackers de façon presque alarmante.
Blaine se leva et marcha à l'intérieur de la maison. Il était presque quinze minutes dix. Ce n'était pas la peine d'essayer de retourner dormir, alors elle s'est résignée pour faire son quotidien. Douche d'abord, petit déjeuner et ensuite travailler. Elle avait trouvé un magnifique banc de jardin à une vente de jardin à Andover il y a quelques semaines. Les propriétaires précédents n'avaient évidemment pas la patience de traiter correctement le bois ou tout simplement ne savaient pas comment le protéger des intempéries et l'avaient massacré en le peignant sur une couleur orange vile pour correspondre à leurs meubles et décors d'extérieur. Blaine voulait la restaurer pour son propre jardin. L'enlèvement de la peinture prendrait du temps. Mais elle voulait découvrir la couleur naturelle du bois. Puis elle le traiterait simplement avec une couche de vernis transparent et voila! Elle aurait le banc parfait pour son porche arrière.
Elle venait de finir de travailler sur un projet de menuiserie pour un nouveau propriétaire de maison et avait également mis les dernières touches sur son dernier projet de sculpture. Donc elle avait besoin de quelque chose de nouveau pour rester occupée. Mais quelque chose ne prend pas autant de temps que d'entreprendre un nouveau projet de menuiserie ou de commencer une nouvelle sculpture. Le banc était le choix parfait. La plus grande partie du travail serait de retirer ce dieu horrible peinture. Ce serait la distraction parfaite de cette chose qui avait les sens de son loup sur l'alarme haute.
Après un petit déjeuner, Blaine se dirige vers son atelier avec sa tasse à thé à la main.

Blaine a fermé la porte d'entrée de sa maison et est allée à la remise où elle a gardé son hélicoptère. Elle était toujours en colère. Le sentiment de malaise du matin n'était pas vraiment parti. Son loup voulait courir, mais d'une manière ou d'une autre elle n'avait pas l'impression que c'était la meilleure option en ce moment, alors au lieu de cela elle a décidé d'aller pour la prochaine meilleure chose. Ce qui était de monter son hélicoptère. Elle avait enfilé l'équipement de sécurité nécessaire, mis sa veste en cuir et des gants de vélo et était prête à partir. Elle a fait le tour de la ville pendant un moment, laissant son anxiété diminuer à des niveaux supportables, avant de se diriger vers l'un de ses pubs préférés, l'Indo. En tant que fan de la culture irlandaise et celtique, elle aimait l'atmosphère du pub et se sentait cosy et presque à la maison.
Elle a garé son vélo devant le pub, enlevé son casque, ses gants et sa veste. En marchant vers le pub, elle sortit ses cheveux de casque et sourit à peine en entendant les airs joviaux irlandais, venant de l'intérieur du bar. Elle a pris son siège habituel. Une petite table dans l'un des coins du pub, face à la porte d'entrée. Un serveur s'est approché de la table et a reconnu son sourire.
-- Comme d'habitude, chef?
Blaine regarda le jeune homme qui lui sourit. Rory était un beau garçon avec son teint bronze éblouissant, ses yeux bleu foncé et ses cheveux noirs bouclés. Quand elle s'était installée à Salem et qu'elle avait trouvé l'Indo pour la première fois, il avait essayé d'essayer sa main pour la charmer dans son lit. Apparemment, certains de ses copains de serveur et surtout le propriétaire de l'établissement l'avaient assis sur le droit et étroit. Cette femme était loin de sa ligue. Apparemment, ils lui avaient aussi dit son rang avec les garde-côtes et depuis, c'était devenu une sorte de salutation banale entre eux.
"Tu le sais!" Blaine a confirmé avec un sourire à elle. Ses yeux bleus scintillent d'amusement.
"Cajun frites et un cacao chaud qui arrive tout de suite!" Il s'est moqué du salut et s'est précipité dans la cuisine.
Les yeux de Blaine suivirent sa figure de départ pendant une seconde environ avant de leur permettre d'aller à l'intérieur du pub. L'Indo n'était pas vide, mais il n'était pas plein non plus. Il y avait deux personnes au bar, certaines assises sur des tables comme elle. Elle a cependant vu un visage familier. Elle a reconnu un homme en liberté, assis au bar. Blaine ne le connaissait pas personnellement, mais étant charpentier et entrepreneure, elle connaissait Tom Finch de réputation. Blaine ne voulait pas s'immiscer, donc elle a laissé ses yeux s'éloigner du dos et continuer à parcourir le reste de l'intérieur du pub. Tout comme Rory livrait son ordre de frites cajun et de cacao chaud, un jeune homme entra dans le pub et se dirigea tout droit vers le bar. Il a plié près de Tom Finch, plaçant son sac à dos près de son tabouret. Le jeune homme a placé son ordre et a commencé à frapper une conversation avec l'entrepreneur.
Rory suivit son regard et le sourire descendit la tête pour lui chuchoter.
"Et ici, je pensais que les hommes n'étaient pas votre vitesse, chef."
Blaine regarda Rory avec un sourire dans les yeux. "Damn, tu m'as découvert! Je l'ai seulement utilisé comme excuse pour garder les petits comme vous loin."
Rory s'est redressé et a embrayé sa poitrine au-dessus de son cœur.
"Aïe! Vous m'avez blessé, chef! » Il aboie un rire. "Boss, sais 'joyez votre repas'."
"Merci, petit!"
Rory s'est enfui en secouant la tête, toujours en riant.
Blaine a posé son regard vers le bar et a attendu que Harkin lui attrape les yeux. Quand ils ont pris contact avec les yeux, elle a souri et a hissé son cacao chaud en remerciement. Il a hurlé en réponse.
Blaine Moore


{ "We are all children of Mother Earth. We are all equal when she takes us back into her bosom." }
Of Wolf and Man || All Along The Watchtower || Forever More
| {Full Name} |
 Blaine Moore
| {Nickname} |
None that she’s aware of
| {Date of Birth} |
August/26
| {Age} |
41
| {Gender} |
Female
| {Sexuality} |
Prefers women
| {Relationship Status} |
Widowed
| {Role} |
Were Alpha
| {Occupation} |
Woodcarver/Carpenter
| {Face Claim} |
Bridget Regan
| {Dialogue Color} |
009900
| {Appearance} |
Blaine is not among the shortest of women at 5’9. Her years in the Coast Guard, working as a rescue swimmer, had conditioned her body. She is fit and strong, but far from bulky. Some might consider her masculine looking, but it's all in the eye of the beholder really. She is no bodybuilder that’s for sure. Her Irish ancestry on her mother’s side granted her a fair complexion that contrasts quite well with her long dark hair and bright blue eyes topped by long, beautifully curved eyebrows. She takes after her mother in her facial features as well, with her high cheekbones, straight nose and pointed chin, crowned by soft, yet generous cupid’s bow lips. Her quirky smile reveals her slightly longer than usual canines.
Blaine’s body is littered with scars, big and small. Some werewolf related, others received during her years of service. She has no tattoos or piercings as in her opinion neither lends itself too well to shifting. Although she would have liked to be able to pierce her nipples. As it stands she just enjoys tasteful tattoos on other people and women with pierced nipples are kind of a turn on for her.
Blaine is a practical dresser. After years spent in uniform, she is all about comfort. Jeans, shirts, tees, tank tops, boots, sneakers. She’s not particularly picky. Solid colors mostly, reds, blues, whites and blacks as she is not too good at color coordination. Her individuality in dressing is evident in her quirky taste for underwear and socks, and the funny, funky prints on her T-shirts. As a werewolf her body temp is higher than average and as such she doesn’t need jackets much, but when she does wear them, it’s usually leather ones.
In her completely shifted form Blaine is a snow-white wolf with blazing blue eyes.
 
Whenever she manages to partially shift the effects differ. Most often her eyes would shift and the Were glow would become more evident. Her hands transform as well with pronounced claws. She’s managed to partially shift her ears and teeth.
| {Habits & Quirks} |
When she’s going out she counts out loud while locking the door, otherwise she’s never really sure if she did.
She likes to cuddle. To that end she sleeps with numerous hug pillows in her bed.
Whenever she’s making a salad she likes to take a few sips of vinegar. She prefers balsamic vinegar to all other.
She is a bit particular about the locations of certain items in her home and especially her workshop. She gets very OCD when they are not in the correct place and position.
She likes to read lesbian romance novels and erotica and at this point is not sure if it’s a guilty pleasure or simply a pleasure.
| {Hobbies} |
Origami. The art of paper folding calms her down like nothing else. The attention required to fold the paper or paper modules for the 3D origami models, engulfs her completely and at the same time has become a sort of reflex allowing her to watch movies for example while folding her 3D origami modules. As for the single paper origami folding. That requires her complete attention as some models are quite complex and can take up to an hour to fold.
Likes to collect queer mugs.
Collects fridge magnets.
Rock balancing. As with origami, the art of rock balancing is a sort of dzen experience for Blaine. The sense of achievement once you finish the rock pyramid is a very unique feeling that keeps her coming back to rock balancing day after day. 
| {Likes} |
Irish music
Stargazing
Considerate people
Japanese cuisine
Thunder storms and walking in the rain
Dahlia flowers
Dimples
Cooking
Anime and manga
Honesty, loyalty and integrity
To read/watch sci-fi and fantasy
Spicy food
| {Dislikes} |
Dill, she’s actually allergic to it and the aroma of it is one of the smells that can hinder her sense of smell.
Waking up early in the morning
Inconsiderate people
Sea food /fish is ok/
Injustice
Closedmindedness
Horror books/movies
Unpunctuality
Unwelcomed invasion of her personal space
Bigotry
Crowds and crowded spaces
Excessive heat
| {Fears} |
Blaine is a pack animal. Moreover, she’s an Alpha. The fear of losing her packmates to violent death is a constant in her heart. She is a very protective Alpha and goes far and beyond to protect her pack from harm.
Even stronger is her fear of losing family to preventable circumstances. Sadly it is a fear that has already come true twice for her upon losing her Aunt, who raised her, and her mate to Katrina.
Blaine has an irrational fear of falling or more precisely fear of precipices, or cremnophobia. She cannot stand near unprotected ledges or walk on simple rope bridges. Transparent elevators are also a thing for her. In short, she needs to feel safe near a ledge, not able to easily fall, to be able to stand there.
| {Secrets} |
Blaine has a daughter she gave birth to when she was 17 years old. A young outside beta had been accepted into the New Orleans pack. The boy was insolent, rude and downright mean. He'd taken a shine to Blaine and Loup-garou had not been quick enough to stop him from raping the girl. Elizabet never knew about this as she had been called to work abroad for nearly a year and had left her niece in the capable care of the pack. Neither Loup-garou or Blaine had the heart to tell her so they kept the secret. Blaine carried the baby to term and the Alpha arranged for it to be adopted into a suitable family. Blaine knows nothing about her daughter except that she should be around twenty-four years old.
| {Abilities} |
As any werewolf Blaine is gifted with enhanced strength, speed, reflexes and senses. As well as with faster healing and regeneration.
Blaine is particularly good at tracking. Her sense of smell while not overly better than that of other werewolves is honed to perfection. She has a vast arsenal of known smells and scents and is able to recognize even the most ambiguous of aromas, making attempts of scent masking almost futile.
After a life-threatening incident during her service as a Coast Guard rescue swimmer Blaine has acquired the ability to partially shift in addition to her almost instantaneous shifting to full wolf form. Most often than not she shifts either her eyes, ears, hands and fingers, and her teeth as well. She can’t do all at once and the partial shifting requires a concentrated effort as she needs to lower her core temperature to be able to partially shift. Extreme situations may also help her achieve a partial shift, as well as some very strong emotions.
Blaine is a skilled swimmer and rescue swimmer in even the worst of conditions. She is also an accomplished hand-to-hand specialist. She’s also been trained in providing emergency first aid.
| {Limitations} |
Blaine’s cremnophobia is a sort of an Achilles' heel for her. The fear is crippling and paralyzing, interfering with her reasoning and shifting abilities.
Her highly honed sense of smell is also a sort of a double edged sword. Too many and too intense smells could overwhelm her to the point of lightheadedness. Quite like certain frequencies can render creatures with sensitive hearing unconscious. However this weakness of hers is known only by few trusted individuals.
She has discovered she lacks the other supernaturals’ resilience towards the vampiric compulsion. She is just as exposed to this ability as any normal human would be. She doesn’t know why, but she uses talismans and such to overcome this deficiency.
| {Personality} |
♦ Steadfast ♦ Withdrawn ♦ Caring ♦ Hypersensitive ♦
Blaine is somewhat of an oddity for a werewolf. For a creature with a pack mentality she can be withdrawn and reclusive and will often times seek solitude. She is far from a recluse however. She is well aware of her withdrawn nature and takes measures not to sequester herself too much or for lengthy periods of time.
Otherwise she is a strong and steadfast individual forged in the cold waters of the world’s seas and oceans and tempered by the misfortunes that plagued her early childhood. She is calm and collected and unwavering under pressure, save for those few weaknesses afforded to all living creatures. She is a person who believes in self-improvement and actively seeks it. Be it physical, emotional, mental or spiritual.
Blaine possesses a strong sense of justice, coupled with her moral values and spiritual beliefs. She is caring and giving and will most often than not afford a person the benefit of the doubt. She tries to be open-minded and reserves judgement until after she is well acquainted with a situation. She is a good listener and tries to understand people and their motivations as it also helps her and her self-improvement.
As any artist, Blaine is very sensitive and can be quite temperamental and at times even eccentric. She views her hypersensitivity as both a gift and a curse of sorts. When dealing with the troubles and problems of her packmates her extreme empathy is indispensable. It allows her to pick up on cues and signals that even the person across from her is not aware of transmitting. Her heightened sensitivity however can also be a hindrance. The smallest things can offend or anger her. Well aware of this she tries to temper those impulses.
| {Place of Origin} |
Killarney, Co. Kerry, Ireland
| {Background} |
Born to mother Maura Moore nee Sullivan and father Daniel Moore. Her mother, born and raised in Killarney married an American-born of Irish descent botanist. Blaine’s father had come to Killarney to study mosses and liverworts and lichens in Killarney National Park. He’d met Blaine’s mother during the Killarney Regatta. He as a spectator, and her as a participant. They’d felt an immediate connection and had become fast friends. What followed, as her parents liked to say, was history.
Unfortunately for little Blaine the family’s history was short-lived. When Blaine was nine, her family had gone camping at Killarney National Park where her dad worked. She, her parents and Blaine’s two-year older sister Shannon.
One night, not a couple of days into the camping, the family was attacked by a berserk werewolf. Although they had no way of knowing that. To them it was a rabid wolf that tore through them. Killing Maura and Blaine’s sister almost in an instance. Daniel had watched helpless and in horror as the wild animal gored his beloved wife and first-born. The only thing he could do was wrap himself protectively around his little girl and hope the animal would be satisfied with his flesh and leave his precious little girl alone.
But the werewolf was feral and beyond sane thought. It tore through the father and managed to sink his teeth into Blaine before it was put down by a group of hunters. At the time of course Blaine couldn’t have known any of this. She had been just an ordinary kid with no knowledge of the supernatural. Of werewolves, witches and vampires beyond what she watched in moves and read in books. The hunters had brought her to the hospital and after the authorities had managed to establish her identity had called her Aunt, her father’s sister, who lived in New Orleans, as the child’s only surviving relative.
When Blaine had woken up in the hospital she’d been confused, disoriented and scared. She hadn’t immediately remembered the attack. She didn’t know her family was gone. Moreover, she didn’t know that while she’d slept and fought a virulent fever, a change had occurred within her. A change that would mark her life from this moment onward.
And then the memories had flooded her. The camping trip, the beastly wolf, her mother and big sister falling prey to gnashing teeth right before her very eyes. Her father trying desperately to shield her from the wolf’s hunger with his own body and ultimately failing. And then nothing. She’d begun crying then waking up her Aunt in the process. Elizabeth Moore had rushed to the girl and wrapped her in her arms, rocking her gently whispering comforting nothings in her ear.
When Blaine was released from the hospital and given permission to travel, her Aunt took her to New Orleans with her. It was there that Blaine's transformation started to truly manifest itself. It started with hyperesthesia. All her five senses were on the fritz and the nine ear old was overwhelmed. Sudden bouts of abnormal strength manifested soon after. Her most common victims - all the door knobs in the house. Her canines started to itch and even hurt. Blaine's aunt took her to all sorts of doctors, but none were able to determine the cause of her symptoms. Finally, instead of admitting they didn't know squat, they chalked it all up to early onset of puberty. Desperate to help her niece Elizabeth brought little Blaine to a witchdoctor recommended to her by one of her more eccentric colleagues.
Luckily for her, and for Blaine, it turned out to be an actual witch, or rather, warlock, who recognized the little girl's condition immediately. He spent the better part of the day explaining to Elizabeth what she needed to know. When she'd exited his office she was shell-shocked. But the witchdoctor had provided her with a referral to a man, known as Loup-garou. Hesitant, but determined to find out what was happening with her niece Elizabeth brought her to the address provided by the warlock. It was the smartest thing she'd ever done.
It turned out Loup-garou was the pack Alpha for the New Orleans werewolf pack. He took Blaine and Elizabeth in like one of his own. The pack helped Elizabeth deal with the trials of raising a juvenile werewolf. They also helped Blaine's aunt deal with the discovery of the existence of supernatural beings. Elizabeth, who was sufficiently well off, thanks to her work as a games and software developer, bought a house close to the packs compound. Both for security and for convenience. Whenever little Blaine was not at school or doing school homework, she was with the pack. Training, learning, preparing to live her life as a werewolf hidden among the normal humans.
She took in to Loup-garou like wild fire to dry wood and the two of them became fast friends. So much so that the old Alpha even taught the girl his trade - carpentry.
Blaine was good with her hands and the craft came easily to her. Soon enough she developed interest not only in carpentry but woodcarving and Loup-garou encouraged her. He talked with Elizabeth and advised her to help Blaine hone her skills. She'd done so enrolling the young girl in woodcarving courses, while allowing her to work together with Loup-garou on his carpentry projects. By the time Blaine turned 21 years, she already had a solid six years of experience as a carpenter and had sold some small carvings of hers in local arts and crafts shops.
One evening she'd come home from working on a project with her Alpha. She'd called her aunt, sat her down and said they'd needed to talk. She told Elizabeth she'd had a sort of epiphany or felt a kind of a call. And then had handed her a recruitment brochure for the Coast Guard. Elizabeth had told her that she'd always trusted Blaine's instincts and that if that's what her heart was telling her she needed to do, than she had her blessing. And then had proceeded to tell her that she would worry about her none the less, as Blaine was the last bit she had from her brother and at the same time she herself was the last bit the young woman had from her family and the two of them needed to take care of each other. It was an emotional moment for them.
Coast Guard boot camp was a harrowing experience even for a young and strong werewolf like Blaine. But she got through the two months of training. And just like with her enlistment, when she was asked a couple of weeks into boot camp to consider her choice of career within the Coast Guard, she selected rescue swimmer without even hesitating. It was where she wanted, no, needed to be. The feeling was so strong that it helped her through the next five months of rescue swimmer training which made boot camp look like a literal walk in the park.
Being a werewolf and having a natural resistance to temperature amplitudes Blaine was uniquely suited to the role, but even so she'd barely managed to finish the training by the skin of her teeth at the rank of Petty Officer 3rd Class.

About seven years into her service, with numerous rescue missions under her belt, a solid experience and a rank of Senior Chief Petty Officer earned based on merit and distinguished service, including commendations and a silver and gold lifesaving medals, Blaine finally came face to face with the reason she was called to enlist in the Coast Guard. A yacht had been caught in a particularly nasty storm and the Coast Guard had stopped receiving them on the radio. Two helos were dispatched to perform search and rescue. Blaine's unit was one of them. They'd managed to locate one of the survivors and Blaine was dropped into the water seconds before a lightning had struck their helo. She'd watched in horror as the machine went down and exploded upon contact with the churning ocean. But grief was not an option for her right then. She'd needed to find the survivor and keep them alive long enough for the other helo to find them.
Near exhaustion and on the last of her strength she'd found the young woman clinging to a flimsy lifebelt, severely hypothermic to the point Blaire had barely managed to find a pulse. From then on all she had left in terms of strength and power she'd given to save her life. And it was then that it had happened. In her human form, even more resistant to the cold than the average human being, even with all her equipment and gear, Blaine's body temperature began to drop slowly, but surely. Her strength flowing into the ocean with her body heat. She fought tooth and nail to stay awake, keep moving, keep her blood pumping and flowing, pouring every ounce of werewolf spirit, strength and ability into the fight for survival. It had happened then and there, unbeknownst to her. Just as the second helo'd spotted them and dropped their own rescue swimmers.
And as the two of them were fished out of the ocean Blaine had met her. Clea Devaux. The woman who would become her wife, serving as the doctor aboard the second helo.
Later, in the hospital, after they'd managed to bring Blaine's temperature up enough to let her go Clea had come to check up on her. And when they had found themselves alone in a hidden corner of the hospital she'd asked Blaine. "Now tell me what is a strapping wolf like yourself doing jumping into the drink day in and day out?" Apparently when they'd brought her on board the helo Blaine's eyes were glowing as if she had partially shifted. Which she'd never been able to do. She had always been a full shifter. It had turned out Clea had just returned to her native New Orleans from a stint with Doctors Without Borders. And she was a part of Loup-garou's pack.
The two had quickly fallen in like and even faster in love. Elizabeth was happy for them, the pack was happy for them. They were happy. And then about a year after they'd met, on August 29, 2005 Katrina hit and once again Blaine lost everything. Her unit was dispatched immediately. And when the storm had calmed it had claimed the life of her aunt Elizabeth and of her mate - Clea. The pack had also suffered heavy losses, but thankfully Loup-garou had survived. Small mercies and all. During the first couple of months following Elizabeth and Clea's deaths Blaine was nearly inconsolable.
 
The pack tried to close its ranks around her to help her through this difficult period, but something was wrong. The younger betas felt unsettled around her, aggressive even. It took all of Loup-garou's influence to calm them and keep them in check.
One day he took her aside and told her what he thought was the reason for the betas' response to her presence. It was something that remained overlooked when Clea was still alive, because she was tempering some of the effects simply by being with Blaine. "You came back changed after that rescue mission when you met Clea." Loup-garou had told her. He'd said he'd felt it too. A new power within her. Flowing from her. And the betas were feeling it too. "They think you mean to challenge me. And so they react the way they do." Blaine had insisted she did not mean to challenge him and he'd ensured her he knew as much. He'd told her that even if she means not to challenge, her power was beyond that of a beta now. And even if she meant no challenge, her strength itself was a sort of a challenge.

So Blaine knew there was only one thing to do. Nothing was holding her in New Orleans anymore. Her last blood relative was dead. Her mate was dead. There was no place for her in the New Orleans pack. So she left deciding it was high time to find out more about her family's accident and the feral wolf that had killed them and turned her. Since her commission with the Coast Guard was up, she transferred to the Reserves and headed for her native Ireland.
She spent nearly two years in Ireland investigating. The most she managed to ascertain was that the werewolf was probably cursed by a magic practitioner to act so feral not on full moon. And that it was not regular hunters that had saved her. She wasn't able to determine the identity of the witch or warlock that had cursed the werewolf, nor the identities of any of the hunters. With no more leads to follow and stones to turn she'd decided to go back to the source. Or the next best thing in this modern day and age. Namely - Salem, Massachusetts.
She's been a resident of Salem for ten years now from two thousand and seven. Working as a carpenter in order to pay the bills, but selling more and more of her carvings for larger and larger amounts. Just as Loup-garou had warned her, the power she'd received during that rescue mission had become a beacon to all werewolves in Salem as soon as she'd arrived. She'd wanted to start a quiet life, but Salem's Alpha had felt compelled to challenge her even when she'd told him she didn't want his title. But she hadn't been able to persuade him to back down, so she'd accepted. And he'd lost. And so Blaire had become Alpha.
| {Extra} |
She loves to sing and is actually not bad at it. But she generally doesn’t believe people when they tell her as much. She just thinks they are being polite.
Doesn’t drink.