final girls.

          𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄  of  her  car  as  the  air  slowly  hisses  out  of  it  around  the  rusted  nail  she’d  apparently  driven  over  a  few  miles  back  ,   dove  hugs  her  own  upper  arms  ,   a  self - soothing  technique  that  never  expired  after  childhood  .   the  sound  of  the  gravel  on  the  shoulder  of  the  road  she’s  now  stranded  on  crunching  beneath  her  tennis  shoes  might  as  well  be  laughter  ,   the  horrible  ,   tinny  laugh  track  in  the  bad  90s  sitcom  that  resembled  her  life  .   

           it’s  not  until  she  hears  the  gravel  crunch  under  someone  else’s  weight  that  she  spins  ,   unsteady  like  a   newborn  deer  on  her  knobbly - kneed  legs  .  she  doesn’t  have  to  put  on  the  damsel  in  distress  face  for  show  –––  she  comes  pre - programmed  with  it  . 

          “ i  think  i  ran  over  something  . ”   yeah  ––  no  shit  ,   sherlock  .

leticia felt compelled to stop when she saw the other woman’s tire blow. she hadn’t gotten a good look at whatever had wrecked the car, but it had looked like a large animal. no mames, she thought to herself, it looked like a bear ! it was enough to make her hesitate--hand on the car door handle for just too long before she finally found herself opening the driver’s side door and jogging over to the blonde. the steve madden booties were hardly the appropriate footwear for running across gravel, but surprisingly the witch didn’t falter.

it was a fairly slow day at le chat noir, not that luna minded. sometimes the less human interaction she had, the better. why she’d picked a job in customer service was beyond her ( though she knew it had a lot to do with her best friend, who also happened to own the store ). besides, with valentines day fast approaching, she knew that they’d get floods of desperate humans looking for a love spell. none of which would actually work unless they were a practicing witch, but who was luna to not accept their money? capitalism, it had it’s place after all.

sliding the last candle onto the shelf, she leaned back on the ladder to assess the display when all of a sudden ( and very much unlike her ) she lost balance and started to fall. reaching out, she grabbed the nearest person to her so as she didn’t crack her head open. “shit! sorry. sorry!”

leticia would have been happier in new orleans. there was something whimsical and adventurous about the city that wasn’t quite as present in oldgate, where the real estate was much more affordable. she was no instagram fitness influencer, teaching yoga and hiit classes at the local gym, and there was no way she could afford to live on her own in the city. the only diamond in the rough, she had found thus far, was le chat noir. the occult shop made up for all the pitfalls of a small town. 

beyond anything else, leticia villalobos longed to be loved. stolen from her mother’s belly and raised by a woman chasing fame for the grief of losing her daughter, leticia had a dearth of true love in her life and it had starved her for it. romance was only part of that, but it was one that made her hungry enough that she had a long list of disappointing failed relationships that she brushed off as easily as a list of overdue books. 

as she searched for the right ingredients for a spell to attract love of all kinds, she was startled by the sudden contact--dropping the piece of rose quartz she held in her palm, warming it in her grasp. “ ¡ aguas ! ” she spoke in surprise, holding onto the other woman to steady them both. “are you okay?”

ɪᴛ'ꜱ 3 ᴀᴍ, and the bar is sparse but for a few littered patrons, speaking in hushed tones over their drinks while isaac polishes a glass on the far side of the bar. his eyes are glazed over in thought; it’s nights like these that make him really wonder if he’s wasting limited moonlight. the ring of the overhead bell startles him out of thought as someone enters the bar, looking weathered as ever. as they near the bar, isaac pushes off the countertop and smirks.

               “ –– rough night? “

shifting back into a womanly form, tovah knew she’d have to collect herself before returning home and letting her brother draw his own conclusions about what she’d been up to. his disapproval for their wolf counterparts was the only thing about him she contested, but she still respected it and him. heading to the bar, unaware of the somewhat wild state of her flaxen hair, she planned to have a couple drinks--almost as the hair of the dog that bit her. her own dark pun had her entering the establishment with a light, private smirk on her face.

the sun was high in the sky. california was known for being warm and sunny, but northern california had truly been more like oregon than san diego. tovah had not been prepared for the louisiana heat, but it was the humidity that got to her more than anything. if winter felt like spring back home, she could only imagine how uncomfortable she would be under a coat of thick fur when the summer came. 

despite the difference, she could not help but to be fascinated by the difference in native plants and was taking a mental inventory of those seen around town in hopes of incorporating some of the local flora into the modest yard she’d taken to tending before she’d even finished unpacking. three of her orchids had died in the move from crescent lake national park to oldgate and, though she mourned them, she was quick to get to work on cultivating her own space again while acclimating to small town life after living remotely for as long as she’d had the choice.