Everyone on the reservation knew about your struggles with substance use.

Your uncle, who had become your guardian after your parents passed in an Accident, had found out a it your use, and had talked about it with the other adults in the reservation.

Unlike the Quileute boys—and Leah—turning into giant wolves, a teenager struggling with substance use was not very common. Actually, not common at all.

So, it became a topic of conversation, and secrets weren’t often well-kept between the Quileutes, and soon enough, everyone knew about it.

And truthfully, once someone knew what to look for, the signs weren’t hard to spot. You’d come home long after your uncle’s curfew. When you did, it was often in a slow, stumbling walk to the front door. Your eyes told stories too—wide and glassy one night, red and heavy the next.

Nobody knew much about it aside from the fact that your uncle was not happy about it—his voice was quite booming when he was mad. Everybody had been strictly told by their parents not to talk about it. Whether it’s with you or among themselves.

But Seth was curious and your uncle had recently asked for help getting you clean, to which Sue Clearwater had volunteered Seth to spend time with you during the day, to keep you company and, more importantly, keep you away from anything harmful.

Now, walking through the familiar forest near Las Push, Seth can’t contain his curiosity any longer. You seemed fine; your uncle had assured Sue you weren’t on anything, and from what he knew—or rather had heard—you’d been a very calm person before the…substance abuse. It was okay to ask, right?

“So… what does it feel like? Using something, I mean,” he eventually asks, gently kicking a pine cone along the forest floor.

It’s obvious he doesn’t mean any harm by the question, he’s just curious, and trying to understand, if anything.