This is a small experiment in different writing styles, perspectives, creating small moments used -collectively- to paint the larger picture. Standard disclaimer applies. Enjoy!

They whispered as she walked by.

There was a certain majesty about her, something that couldn't help but drag complete attention from anyone, kicking and screaming if it must.

Thrall.

No one spoke of her in a regular sense. There was never any mention of age, of family, of home. Only of greatness. Of protection. Of the ether.

There was one world that always trailed, unspoken.

Tragedy.

The teens whispered, the elderly gossiped, the elders recited, the children embellished, re-enacted. She was a portal, drawing them all back into a time of action and mystery, and they were helplessly caught.

They sometimes mentioned other names, always in passing. Jacob, Sam, Seth, they all mixed and faded into obscurity. All but her. They defer to her as a long gone legend given new flesh.

Revered. Feared.

The residents of Forks, Washington, all agreed. La Push reservation was a weird place. Tourists, travellers would move through, stopping briefly to marvel over the sheer cliff drops and panoramic ocean views, move on and excitedly sing the small hamlets' praises in the various diners and restaurants that dot the larger town's centre, misunderstanding of the local's terse comments and uncomfortable reply's on the subject.

Those same tourists rarely linger long enough to understand the eerie aura of mysticism that enfolds the forests, never grasp the odd, respectful behaviour the people defer to one young woman (always a woman, the stories say), rarely feel an odd, out of place shiver of unworthiness dance along their collective spines (brought about by a simple raised eyebrow and an ethereal girl), Never feel the terror of gleaming, large, jewel bright eyes staring, watching from the darkened greenery-

Those that do, rarely stay longer.

The mothers of La Push smile fondly at the scene before them, knowing there was no safer place for their precious gifts to dally than in her presence. They laugh and play in the grass and present the picture of wholesomeness. A young, beautiful woman placing responsibility before frivolity and caring for others.

They ignore the whispers of the elderly Mrs from the borders, hushing her and placating her.

"What are you doing, letting her near children? Don't you know how volatile she is?"

The younger mothers whisper snidely once she leaves "what a crackpot. They say she never was quite the same after that freak accident".

Few glance long enough at the young woman to notice the longing glint in her gaze as it drifts from the ancient woman's' back towards her young charges.

As she walks down the street, the people of La Push smiling and greeting her warmly, suddenly her ears twitch and she is gone. She does not return.

A group of hikers, deep in the forest surrounding Forks stop and notice one of their own missing. They backtrack( not two hundred metres) and find him staring into the woods, muttering about flashes of silver,white, and a bear. Their trip is abruptly cut short so as to take him to the emergency ward, suspected head trauma.

The reports meet the withered ears of a widowed old woman, and despite her perpetual scowl and her suspected insanity, she smiles.

Leah has gone to dance with legends.

Purposely vague on several things, I think it gives the reader just a little leeway for creativity, don't you? Anyway, i hope you enjoyed and will give me some feedback on what worked and what didn't. Thanks for reading! :)