Jacob Black stares down at his hands. He flexes the fingers, notes the way the skin stretches over bone, the color, the pieces of who he is; who he used to be. He looks in the mirror and nothing has changed. He still has the face of a boy who has only recently lost that childish roundness, he still has the dimple on his chin (a gift from his mother ( Read more... )

 
( OOM: The hurricane I'll never outrun. )

( Notes on how I plan to play Jacob )