Call of the Wild: A Scorpio Races Fanfiction

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to this book and I am not making any money off of this writing.

I sit with Puck every morning on the cliffs. Sometimes we talk. Most of the time we don't. We just sit - and remember. Remember what the races have taken from us. Sometimes we listen - listen to the sea that calls our capaill uisce, that controls our fate. Even after all this time. Especially after all this time.

When we talked once, Puck told me that she still hears the Scorpio drumbeat in the night. I told her that I still hear the sea calling me. She let out a laugh, bitter and fond and a great and terrible beauty. She told me it was something Peg Gratton said.

Our relationship is strange. We roar in, like the tide, but don't ebb away. We need few words - just like how the races drew us together, while they keep us cautionary.

It is November, and it feels weird to not be entering the races. A good weird, tinged with sorrow. I hear the sea, but instead of whispering comfort, it croons. Corr, Corr.

I turn my head, trying to block out the memories. I cant have anymore reminders of what I did. Puck turns to me, her hair knotted and tangled in the wind. She's pretty now, but I remember he bold beauty at the bonfire. Her calm regality on Dove.

"I hear it too." She says, quietly. Puck knows how much those words mean to me. I move my arm and she understands. She wraps her arms around me, and I, her. Together we block the wind. Her head is over my heart. Our embrace is of a mother's love, a sister's love. The love of lovers.

I almost laugh. Puck breathes in deeply. I exhale softly on her exposed neck. She tightens her hold. "It's so… wild." I say, struggling to explain- the idea is bigger than any of us.

Puck draws back slightly, to look me in the eye. "Aren't we all?"

Her answer isn't sultry, like it would be on the mainland. She really does mean it. I nod, accepting her answer. Counting her freckles. In her eyes, the same fire is shining.

When we kiss, there is a year's worth of familiarity. But something is different. A new bond - deeper. I move from her mouth slowly, venturing down her neck. She tilts her head back and let's out a gentle sigh. Her pulse is as steady as Corr's. I whisper her name, my mouth on her skin. I want to add the word mine, but I don't. If I am the sea, then she is the land - vast, unconquerable.

I hear some boys down at the beach hoot at us.

With a sigh of my own, I trace my nose along her jaw line. She smells of Dove and small bakeries and something that is solely Puck. I return back to her mouth.

Puck's thumb begins tracing patterns on my collarbone. It jolts me, even through my jacket. The hooting gets louder and we hear someone clear their throat behind us.

We break apart. It's Gabe, back for a visit from the mainland. His arms are crossed, his shoulders hunched against the wind. Behind him, Finn is casually leaning on the old Morris. Neither of them look very happy with us - more specifically, me.

I nod to both of them as way of greeting. Finn gives a small wave. Gabe ignores it and glares at Puck, who glares back. His mouth opens and closes as he tries to think of something to say.

Our arms are still around each other. I tighten my hold on her. I won't lose her too.

I can't.

Fin

A/N: So, what'd you think? I tried to capture the raw sensuality of Puck and Sean's relationship without making it a "smut fest." I'm totally in love with Sean Kendrick. Mainly because I'm a rider myself. He just set the expectations for my future husband even higher. This story thing isn't a one shot, but rather a series of small "moments." Mainly Kendolly (Sean/Puck - last names). Okay, so read the next paragraph if you like reading about the meaning behind a writer's work.

The title of this story gives you a very clear idea of my attitude towards these two. I was inspired when (in the novel) at the parade, Brian Carroll turns to Puck and tells her that she's wild. Throughout the book, there is the consistent motif of wild or just being alive. It really drew me in, so to emphasize this, I periodically called attention to the wind. When most of us think wild, we think of the wind, swirling around. It's everywhere, you can use it - but you can't tame it. Think about this- Sean begins thinking about Puck when her hair is being affected by the wind. When they embrace "[they] block the wind." And then, Puck and Sean are broken apart by the Connolly brothers. Gabe is trying to look threatening (hence the crossed arms) but the wind is ruining that look (hunched shoulders to block the wind). If there is one thing we remember Gabe for, it is his desire to go to the mainland. Throughout the book, Thisby is the island and the mainland is just that- but the diction surrounding it suggests 'civilization.' If Gabe, the Mainland wanderer, is being affecting by the untamable wind- what does it say about human nature? Finn is just mentioned as casually leaning on the car. If Gabe is the mainland, then Finn must be the island itself. The wind doesn't affect him as much because he's already embraced it. We see Sean going through several mental battles. Battles of Corr, battles over the races. What struck me the most though, was how Puck notices how wild he is when he's not around a horse. Is this his way of being conflicted of which "side" to choose? This is highlighted using fragments, side comments, ellipses and hyphens. A final note, in the books, Puck is often the tamer. She holds Gabe and Finn together - although she admits she can't live without either of them - and brings a sense of peace to Sean. And so, she is the earth, the land that we stand on. She draws people together, she bites back, she astounds. She's what holds many together. Is that not what land does? Or am I confusing her with nature? Would they not be the same thing? You tell me.

Hope I gave you something to think about, and hope to see you soon.

~Dani