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More from wrathofautumn
Chapters:
1) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2764870
2) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2801051/
3) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2804963
4) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2810590/
5) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2821802/
6) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2823835/
7) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2829436/
8) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2837954
9) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2849509/
10) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2852713/
11) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2859205/
12) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2859219/
*Ride of the Valkyries plays in the background*
This is probably one of my favorite parts in the story yet. :D This part actually has TF involved, this time focusing on the girl instead of the guy of the tale. It's also the longest part of the story too, as I spent a bit more time writing this one than my other works. I think you'll all like the atmosphere of this one than the previous, which were a bit melodramatic, or so I hear.
ENJOY, weres, therians, and furreh people alike!
_________________________________________
Let me say a little something about my dad’s workplace. It’s huge! I mean, it’s so big, it’s easy to get lost in there. With all the machines running and the long assembly lines and supervisors watching over everything and everyone, it’s easy to get lost. A few times I’ve had to ask a supervisor to find my dad. They don’t get really so mad at all about it, and everyone’s real nice to me over there.
We pull in our car to my dad’s workplace in the parking lot. Luckily we were able to pull in early so my dad could get us some ice cream free of charge. It’s actually quite easy when you’re working at Ben & Jerry’s Homemade Ice Cream factory. It’s like every kid’s dream come true and I used to love it there, though now I’ve lost some of that admiration for it. My dad’s been working there for 15 years straight, has never gotten a promotion, but he remains faithful to the job and his boss gives him time off when he asks for it. He’ll always get us our favorite flavors outside of work --Mine’s butter pecan, his is cookie dough-- and we’d do things like watch the clouds or talk about movies or other things.
Today though, we won’t have much time for the standard gossip routine. My dad’s only got several minutes before his shift. We walk through the slide doors and say hello to the secretary, Mrs. Hershey. She waves over at us and asks about my legs. My dad says he’ll explain later at lunch break. He quickly snatches us a couple cones, finishes his and clocks in. How can he eat so fast? I barely started on the scoop of mine!
So now we walk into his station where the machines are busy manufacturing the large amounts of ice cream that are to be shipped worldwide. His station is where he helps to package the ice cream into storage boxes. And he’s the fastest packager on the line. He could work one man shifts and still fulfill the factory’s quota in under six hours. He’s gotten the employee of the month award for two years straight because of that, though younger blood has taken over the title, since.
So I just stand by and watch while he packages things, and people stand by and wave at us, but a lot of people come to ask about me to him. Questions like “Paul, did you know your daughter’s walking again?” and “Holy smokes! She can walk! What’s happened, Paul?” Dad just laughs, patting their shoulders saying, “It’s a miracle, guys!”
I do feel a bit like a fifth wheel, though. I come up to dad and ask, “Are you sure you don’t need some help?”
“Sorry , Champ.” He grunts, finishing his tenth box. “I could get in trouble with you working and stuff not being employed.”
“Oh, all right.” I suppose I could just take out a book and read. Where was I on The Wolf King? For some reason, that book just seems more appealing to me now.
Oh. Here comes the manager looking around inspecting everything to see everything’s all in order and no one’s horsing around. An accident free working environment always looks good on an OSHA report, after all. He climbs down the stairs and comes down to see my father. What’s that I’m smelling? Some kind of strong cologne? He’s barely half way down the stairwell, but it’s like I could smell it from a mile away. Dad and nobody else seems to be bothered by it though.
He goes up to my father and goes, “Mr. Garrison, may I have a moment of you time?”
Father turns around with a smile that says, “Oh, Mr. Reynolds! How are you today! Nice suit, by the way.”
I can smell so much now. I can smell the hydraulic fluids in the forklift, the oils in the machinery, a lot of filthy smells. The only thing clean is the sweet scent of ice cream being manufactured.
“Thank you, very kindly. I heard all about your daughter, and I’m very happy for you.” He turned over to me, beaming broadly. “How are you today, Sylvia?”
“Oh, I’m feeling great , Mr. Reynolds, thank you.” I tell him, but I’m feeling so distracted by this sudden super smell ability of mine.
Mr. Reynolds then turns back to my Dad. “Well, Paul, are you still proceeding with your plan then?”
“Of course, I think it’s about time Sylvia start trying to earn a living for herself, help support the family.” What did he say? I blink. “If you can give me an application, she and I can work on it tonight to submit the following morning.”
Mr. Reynolds nods approvingly. “Very good. Come to my office later today, and I’ll set you up with one.” Then he walks away, checking out some of his best workers in the other lines. My heart suddenly turned to lead. A job? It’s nice to support the family once in a while, but will that even matter to me anymore in three days? Does a werewolf care for money?
I go up to Dad, feeling my legs shake. “Dad? What’s going on?”
“Well, Champ, I think it’s about time you learn a bit more responsibility. I was thinking you could probably handle a desk job, since you’re so good at math,” He’s referring to me doing his taxes. “But if you like, now that you have your legs back, you can help me out with the assembly line. I’ll even show you the factory basics!”
How am I supposed to tell him? I feel terrible to disappoint my Dad. “Well, it’s really great and all, Dad, but…”
“But what?” He stares at me. “Is this about that Marcus fellow? Is he the one who’s been giving you the flowers?”
“Huh? No, it’s not him, but that’s not what th--”
“You’re not going on that camping trip.”
I pause. “You mean you don’t trust him at all?”
“No, of course not! I saw how he was looking at you, how he was talking to you. And I know you think this is just me being overprotective again like before, but that’s not what this is about. There’s something wrong with him.”
Okay, now I’m really confused. “But you were acting so nice to him before.”
“I was being modest about it. But if he ever comes looking for you, I’ll make it clear to him this time he better stay away from you.”
I smile thinly. What was I so anxious about again? Maybe I could trust dad with my secret, but not until after work today. He seems so happy right now, I just don’t want to spoil his mood. “Thanks, Dad, for looking out for me. I’d love to work on the application.” That’s something he almost never hears from my mouth, being so unappreciative of his protectiveness. I just hope he can protect me from what I’m about to become.
Can’t sleep. Can’t sleep. Constantly rolling in my bed, why can’t I sleep? All my thoughts just race through my eyes like I’m constantly crashing into a brick wall. For the past four hours, this has what it’s been like. I feel like I’m going nuts. Have to get out. Have to get out of the house and walk around awhile.
Luckily, Dad’s such a heavy sleeper. He can barely wake up from the burglar alarm blaring. Sneaking out in only my nightgown and slippers, I walk down the rapping stairs. Ah, that constant rapping. At least Dad will never suspect I left the house for just a little while. I just need to get around and relax a little. Then I can go back to sleep and feel just as energetic as right now.
I’m so excited to work for the first time in my life. Dad and I spent about a half hour working on the application, the hardest part being the references. I always felt like getting a job was rather annoying, especially when you get fired from one. Thankfully, Dad’s secured a job for 15 years and now I’m going to help pitch in. We might be able to buy us a decent sized television for sure. Dad’s always wanted to get caught up with the current football seasons. Not that I actually quite care for it…ahem…
The door opens noisily and I find myself out in the dark cold night again, the half moon, that beautiful moon. With it’s grayish light shining on me, I can almost swear my nails, gleaming in the night, had grown longer. In fact, why am I describing the night as cold? I actually felt quite warm in the nightgown, but maybe a little too warm. I’d undress, but I’m afraid someone might see me.
And the smells! The sounds! I’ve never experienced anything so sharp before. I could smell a campfire with its smoke a good distance away, unsuspecting campers innocently daring the night out in the wild. I could hear a tomcat yowling in the distance, waiting for a mate to come to their home. If only Ralph would’ve done that for me. He would’ve made a good mate. Wait. Where did that thought come from? Still, the idea’s appealing.
I walk across my lawn now, feeling strangely lithe and faster, I turn my head at a sudden hissing and growling. Mrs. Geldson’s cats. The annoying little monsters, balls of charcoal black and mixed shades of chalky white, dusty orange, and mud brown. What’re they so scared of? Shut up! I snarl and watch them flee to Mrs. Geldson’s porch. Little cowards, at least they’re not so arrogant to know when something’s too big for them.
Wait. What’s that? A light! Oh, no! I’ve got to hide. Why am I so afraid of Mrs. Geldson, a harmless old woman? I don’t know, but all my insides scream to run and hide from her. I run into a nearby lee of trees from behind the house. A door cracks open, and I hear that tapping. The tapping of that old, strong cane. That menacing cane. I can hear her labored, irritated breathing—mm, what a delectable dish she must have had—she clicks her glasses close to her shaking fingers, and I hear her voice resonate in the night.
“Begone, Servant of Belial! Go back to Caina, to your master, vile animal! Twisted Child of Calu! See the Silver Seal of Metatron upon my breast and take flight!”
I can continue to her shout on into the night, but it’s not so important to me. I’m safe and out of harm’s way now. The rolling forest awaits me, and now I can’t wait to venture into it. Though I do feel so awkward wearing this nightgown. It only seems to slow me down. Part of me shouts out to tear it off and leave it asunder, but my minds floods itself with an image. An angelic image that reminds me that it’s something important, something endearing. Mother?
Instead of destroying it, I pull it off over my head and neatly fold it, hanging it along a branch of a tree. I feel less encumbered without it, allowing me to move more swiftly and naturally, taking advantage of my newfound speed.
Something cries out in the night. Something melodious and serene. Something familiar. I hear their cry and I understand it.
“Come, Brothers. Come, Sisters.
Join our song, that our voices be one.
Let us unite in harmony and peace.
And hunt and run in the moon’s light.
In doing so we find each other,
And learn to love one another.”
My pack calls to me! I let out my own cry, my own voice joining in unison with their own. They’re not alone! Never alone with me near them.
“I am here! I am here!
Hear my cry, for I come to you.
I come, my Brothers and Sisters!”
I make a dash through the woods, using my enhanced sense of smell to find my way through the trees and annoying bramble. Where are they? Please do not hunt without me! I am so enthusiastic to join all of you. I can see a clearing in the woods. Good! I can find their scent much easier on that tall rock.
Scaling the rock with incredible ease, I slash my way up the mountainside, digging into the soft limestone, till I’m atop it’s narrow pillar, the wind blowing through my silver fur. I sniff the air again, to pick up the scent of the pack. Where are they? Then I hear their howl and I smell their scent. I cry out once more, carefully climbing back down along a gentler slope of the small mountain. I’m coming! Can you hear me? Can you smell my excitement? I’m coming for you, my pack!
Then I hear something else along the way, something crunching against the forest foliage. Laying low, I sniff the air, picking up the scent. Something musty and majestic. It’s bellows quietly, chewing the evening grass suspiciously. A deer. Quite a large one too.
My stomach growls. I had eaten before, I remember. How am I so hungry again? Hunting this creature shouldn’t be so hard, though, even without the pack. He has grown old and I can see the scars on his backside. He will not survive me.
The foliage is rather loud, though. And will give away my presence. I stay downwind and leap onto a sturdy tree, prowling on all fours while keeping my prey within sight, sound and scent. He still suspects nothing, chewing away. I’m above him now, and I just lick my chops at the pure anticipation. I leap off the branch, nails and teeth bared, crushing the deer onto the ground as I snap his neck like a toothpick. It was almost too easy. Ah, well. His meat was mine.
I tear into his ribs with my nails, getting a good chunk of meat into my calloused hands, and take a large bite of it. Mm! So good. The taste of fresh meat sent shivers of joy in my body. I take pride in my first when I hear it. Something coming. What is that?
“I heard it, Balun! The scent comes down this way. And something new. Venison! Fresh Venison!”
Balun! That treacherous cur dares to touch my kill. I can see them running now, I can smell the excitement on their pelt. None of them will have it. I hunted it alone. Why should the pack share in my spoils?
I get in front of the pack as they draw close, and bare my teeth and snarl. “Stay back! This one is mine!”
The pack looks at each other, whining and barking in confusion. Astounding! I can hear and understand all of them.
“Who is this one?”
“She is hideous! Some kind of a half-breed?”
“Who would ever want to court this one? She even smells of human.”
“You idiots!” Balun steps forward, his fur reflecting no light from the moon. “Don’t you recognize one of our own when you see her, when you smell her? When you hear her speak?”
“But who is this one? She’s ugly!”
Ugly? Me? How can they say that? I’m not ugly. I can get any mate I wanted. I…why, I still have patches of human skin. Where are my teats, my tail? Where’s my canine muzzle, and my pointed ears? All I have are these large clumps, these patches of fur covering large parts of my body. But all my very being shouts I’m a wolf. I am a wolf, aren’t I?
“Her transformation has only started. As it’s not a full moon yet, it’s still incomplete.” Balun then steps forward, into my confused eyes. “It’s too early yet for you to seek us out. Run back home to the human you call your father.”
My father? My…I have a human father? I…yes, I do have one don’t I? My Dad. Daddy. Where…where am I? What’s happened to me?
“Sylvia?”
Ralph walks up beside Balun, sniffing the air quietly. “Sylvia, is that you?”
Sylvia. My name is Sylvia, I remember. What am I doing here? There are wolves everywhere! Home. I gotta get back home! I hear Ralph shout out to me, the wolves laughing at me, mocking me, taunting me. Their words cut so deep. Even as I plug my ears to block out the sound, I hear the names they call me. But I run on, never looking back. I’m so afraid, Daddy! Help me!
1) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2764870
2) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2801051/
3) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2804963
4) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2810590/
5) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2821802/
6) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2823835/
7) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2829436/
8) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2837954
9) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2849509/
10) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2852713/
11) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2859205/
12) http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2859219/
*Ride of the Valkyries plays in the background*
This is probably one of my favorite parts in the story yet. :D This part actually has TF involved, this time focusing on the girl instead of the guy of the tale. It's also the longest part of the story too, as I spent a bit more time writing this one than my other works. I think you'll all like the atmosphere of this one than the previous, which were a bit melodramatic, or so I hear.
ENJOY, weres, therians, and furreh people alike!
_________________________________________
Let me say a little something about my dad’s workplace. It’s huge! I mean, it’s so big, it’s easy to get lost in there. With all the machines running and the long assembly lines and supervisors watching over everything and everyone, it’s easy to get lost. A few times I’ve had to ask a supervisor to find my dad. They don’t get really so mad at all about it, and everyone’s real nice to me over there.
We pull in our car to my dad’s workplace in the parking lot. Luckily we were able to pull in early so my dad could get us some ice cream free of charge. It’s actually quite easy when you’re working at Ben & Jerry’s Homemade Ice Cream factory. It’s like every kid’s dream come true and I used to love it there, though now I’ve lost some of that admiration for it. My dad’s been working there for 15 years straight, has never gotten a promotion, but he remains faithful to the job and his boss gives him time off when he asks for it. He’ll always get us our favorite flavors outside of work --Mine’s butter pecan, his is cookie dough-- and we’d do things like watch the clouds or talk about movies or other things.
Today though, we won’t have much time for the standard gossip routine. My dad’s only got several minutes before his shift. We walk through the slide doors and say hello to the secretary, Mrs. Hershey. She waves over at us and asks about my legs. My dad says he’ll explain later at lunch break. He quickly snatches us a couple cones, finishes his and clocks in. How can he eat so fast? I barely started on the scoop of mine!
So now we walk into his station where the machines are busy manufacturing the large amounts of ice cream that are to be shipped worldwide. His station is where he helps to package the ice cream into storage boxes. And he’s the fastest packager on the line. He could work one man shifts and still fulfill the factory’s quota in under six hours. He’s gotten the employee of the month award for two years straight because of that, though younger blood has taken over the title, since.
So I just stand by and watch while he packages things, and people stand by and wave at us, but a lot of people come to ask about me to him. Questions like “Paul, did you know your daughter’s walking again?” and “Holy smokes! She can walk! What’s happened, Paul?” Dad just laughs, patting their shoulders saying, “It’s a miracle, guys!”
I do feel a bit like a fifth wheel, though. I come up to dad and ask, “Are you sure you don’t need some help?”
“Sorry , Champ.” He grunts, finishing his tenth box. “I could get in trouble with you working and stuff not being employed.”
“Oh, all right.” I suppose I could just take out a book and read. Where was I on The Wolf King? For some reason, that book just seems more appealing to me now.
Oh. Here comes the manager looking around inspecting everything to see everything’s all in order and no one’s horsing around. An accident free working environment always looks good on an OSHA report, after all. He climbs down the stairs and comes down to see my father. What’s that I’m smelling? Some kind of strong cologne? He’s barely half way down the stairwell, but it’s like I could smell it from a mile away. Dad and nobody else seems to be bothered by it though.
He goes up to my father and goes, “Mr. Garrison, may I have a moment of you time?”
Father turns around with a smile that says, “Oh, Mr. Reynolds! How are you today! Nice suit, by the way.”
I can smell so much now. I can smell the hydraulic fluids in the forklift, the oils in the machinery, a lot of filthy smells. The only thing clean is the sweet scent of ice cream being manufactured.
“Thank you, very kindly. I heard all about your daughter, and I’m very happy for you.” He turned over to me, beaming broadly. “How are you today, Sylvia?”
“Oh, I’m feeling great , Mr. Reynolds, thank you.” I tell him, but I’m feeling so distracted by this sudden super smell ability of mine.
Mr. Reynolds then turns back to my Dad. “Well, Paul, are you still proceeding with your plan then?”
“Of course, I think it’s about time Sylvia start trying to earn a living for herself, help support the family.” What did he say? I blink. “If you can give me an application, she and I can work on it tonight to submit the following morning.”
Mr. Reynolds nods approvingly. “Very good. Come to my office later today, and I’ll set you up with one.” Then he walks away, checking out some of his best workers in the other lines. My heart suddenly turned to lead. A job? It’s nice to support the family once in a while, but will that even matter to me anymore in three days? Does a werewolf care for money?
I go up to Dad, feeling my legs shake. “Dad? What’s going on?”
“Well, Champ, I think it’s about time you learn a bit more responsibility. I was thinking you could probably handle a desk job, since you’re so good at math,” He’s referring to me doing his taxes. “But if you like, now that you have your legs back, you can help me out with the assembly line. I’ll even show you the factory basics!”
How am I supposed to tell him? I feel terrible to disappoint my Dad. “Well, it’s really great and all, Dad, but…”
“But what?” He stares at me. “Is this about that Marcus fellow? Is he the one who’s been giving you the flowers?”
“Huh? No, it’s not him, but that’s not what th--”
“You’re not going on that camping trip.”
I pause. “You mean you don’t trust him at all?”
“No, of course not! I saw how he was looking at you, how he was talking to you. And I know you think this is just me being overprotective again like before, but that’s not what this is about. There’s something wrong with him.”
Okay, now I’m really confused. “But you were acting so nice to him before.”
“I was being modest about it. But if he ever comes looking for you, I’ll make it clear to him this time he better stay away from you.”
I smile thinly. What was I so anxious about again? Maybe I could trust dad with my secret, but not until after work today. He seems so happy right now, I just don’t want to spoil his mood. “Thanks, Dad, for looking out for me. I’d love to work on the application.” That’s something he almost never hears from my mouth, being so unappreciative of his protectiveness. I just hope he can protect me from what I’m about to become.
Can’t sleep. Can’t sleep. Constantly rolling in my bed, why can’t I sleep? All my thoughts just race through my eyes like I’m constantly crashing into a brick wall. For the past four hours, this has what it’s been like. I feel like I’m going nuts. Have to get out. Have to get out of the house and walk around awhile.
Luckily, Dad’s such a heavy sleeper. He can barely wake up from the burglar alarm blaring. Sneaking out in only my nightgown and slippers, I walk down the rapping stairs. Ah, that constant rapping. At least Dad will never suspect I left the house for just a little while. I just need to get around and relax a little. Then I can go back to sleep and feel just as energetic as right now.
I’m so excited to work for the first time in my life. Dad and I spent about a half hour working on the application, the hardest part being the references. I always felt like getting a job was rather annoying, especially when you get fired from one. Thankfully, Dad’s secured a job for 15 years and now I’m going to help pitch in. We might be able to buy us a decent sized television for sure. Dad’s always wanted to get caught up with the current football seasons. Not that I actually quite care for it…ahem…
The door opens noisily and I find myself out in the dark cold night again, the half moon, that beautiful moon. With it’s grayish light shining on me, I can almost swear my nails, gleaming in the night, had grown longer. In fact, why am I describing the night as cold? I actually felt quite warm in the nightgown, but maybe a little too warm. I’d undress, but I’m afraid someone might see me.
And the smells! The sounds! I’ve never experienced anything so sharp before. I could smell a campfire with its smoke a good distance away, unsuspecting campers innocently daring the night out in the wild. I could hear a tomcat yowling in the distance, waiting for a mate to come to their home. If only Ralph would’ve done that for me. He would’ve made a good mate. Wait. Where did that thought come from? Still, the idea’s appealing.
I walk across my lawn now, feeling strangely lithe and faster, I turn my head at a sudden hissing and growling. Mrs. Geldson’s cats. The annoying little monsters, balls of charcoal black and mixed shades of chalky white, dusty orange, and mud brown. What’re they so scared of? Shut up! I snarl and watch them flee to Mrs. Geldson’s porch. Little cowards, at least they’re not so arrogant to know when something’s too big for them.
Wait. What’s that? A light! Oh, no! I’ve got to hide. Why am I so afraid of Mrs. Geldson, a harmless old woman? I don’t know, but all my insides scream to run and hide from her. I run into a nearby lee of trees from behind the house. A door cracks open, and I hear that tapping. The tapping of that old, strong cane. That menacing cane. I can hear her labored, irritated breathing—mm, what a delectable dish she must have had—she clicks her glasses close to her shaking fingers, and I hear her voice resonate in the night.
“Begone, Servant of Belial! Go back to Caina, to your master, vile animal! Twisted Child of Calu! See the Silver Seal of Metatron upon my breast and take flight!”
I can continue to her shout on into the night, but it’s not so important to me. I’m safe and out of harm’s way now. The rolling forest awaits me, and now I can’t wait to venture into it. Though I do feel so awkward wearing this nightgown. It only seems to slow me down. Part of me shouts out to tear it off and leave it asunder, but my minds floods itself with an image. An angelic image that reminds me that it’s something important, something endearing. Mother?
Instead of destroying it, I pull it off over my head and neatly fold it, hanging it along a branch of a tree. I feel less encumbered without it, allowing me to move more swiftly and naturally, taking advantage of my newfound speed.
Something cries out in the night. Something melodious and serene. Something familiar. I hear their cry and I understand it.
“Come, Brothers. Come, Sisters.
Join our song, that our voices be one.
Let us unite in harmony and peace.
And hunt and run in the moon’s light.
In doing so we find each other,
And learn to love one another.”
My pack calls to me! I let out my own cry, my own voice joining in unison with their own. They’re not alone! Never alone with me near them.
“I am here! I am here!
Hear my cry, for I come to you.
I come, my Brothers and Sisters!”
I make a dash through the woods, using my enhanced sense of smell to find my way through the trees and annoying bramble. Where are they? Please do not hunt without me! I am so enthusiastic to join all of you. I can see a clearing in the woods. Good! I can find their scent much easier on that tall rock.
Scaling the rock with incredible ease, I slash my way up the mountainside, digging into the soft limestone, till I’m atop it’s narrow pillar, the wind blowing through my silver fur. I sniff the air again, to pick up the scent of the pack. Where are they? Then I hear their howl and I smell their scent. I cry out once more, carefully climbing back down along a gentler slope of the small mountain. I’m coming! Can you hear me? Can you smell my excitement? I’m coming for you, my pack!
Then I hear something else along the way, something crunching against the forest foliage. Laying low, I sniff the air, picking up the scent. Something musty and majestic. It’s bellows quietly, chewing the evening grass suspiciously. A deer. Quite a large one too.
My stomach growls. I had eaten before, I remember. How am I so hungry again? Hunting this creature shouldn’t be so hard, though, even without the pack. He has grown old and I can see the scars on his backside. He will not survive me.
The foliage is rather loud, though. And will give away my presence. I stay downwind and leap onto a sturdy tree, prowling on all fours while keeping my prey within sight, sound and scent. He still suspects nothing, chewing away. I’m above him now, and I just lick my chops at the pure anticipation. I leap off the branch, nails and teeth bared, crushing the deer onto the ground as I snap his neck like a toothpick. It was almost too easy. Ah, well. His meat was mine.
I tear into his ribs with my nails, getting a good chunk of meat into my calloused hands, and take a large bite of it. Mm! So good. The taste of fresh meat sent shivers of joy in my body. I take pride in my first when I hear it. Something coming. What is that?
“I heard it, Balun! The scent comes down this way. And something new. Venison! Fresh Venison!”
Balun! That treacherous cur dares to touch my kill. I can see them running now, I can smell the excitement on their pelt. None of them will have it. I hunted it alone. Why should the pack share in my spoils?
I get in front of the pack as they draw close, and bare my teeth and snarl. “Stay back! This one is mine!”
The pack looks at each other, whining and barking in confusion. Astounding! I can hear and understand all of them.
“Who is this one?”
“She is hideous! Some kind of a half-breed?”
“Who would ever want to court this one? She even smells of human.”
“You idiots!” Balun steps forward, his fur reflecting no light from the moon. “Don’t you recognize one of our own when you see her, when you smell her? When you hear her speak?”
“But who is this one? She’s ugly!”
Ugly? Me? How can they say that? I’m not ugly. I can get any mate I wanted. I…why, I still have patches of human skin. Where are my teats, my tail? Where’s my canine muzzle, and my pointed ears? All I have are these large clumps, these patches of fur covering large parts of my body. But all my very being shouts I’m a wolf. I am a wolf, aren’t I?
“Her transformation has only started. As it’s not a full moon yet, it’s still incomplete.” Balun then steps forward, into my confused eyes. “It’s too early yet for you to seek us out. Run back home to the human you call your father.”
My father? My…I have a human father? I…yes, I do have one don’t I? My Dad. Daddy. Where…where am I? What’s happened to me?
“Sylvia?”
Ralph walks up beside Balun, sniffing the air quietly. “Sylvia, is that you?”
Sylvia. My name is Sylvia, I remember. What am I doing here? There are wolves everywhere! Home. I gotta get back home! I hear Ralph shout out to me, the wolves laughing at me, mocking me, taunting me. Their words cut so deep. Even as I plug my ears to block out the sound, I hear the names they call me. But I run on, never looking back. I’m so afraid, Daddy! Help me!
Category Story / Transformation
Species Wolf
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 44 kB
Poor Sylvia. She must be so confused. And Ralph, does he even remember that name? Why does the pack treat her that way? Honestly, it seems more than just a little dispicable to me. For her to lose her self like that. I don't think she deserves that unless she really wants to forget, but I guess this kind of transformation requires that sacrifice. Will she tell her secret to her father? Will her believe her? Can't wait to find out, but I can at the same time.
Yeah, the thoughts of wolf and human mixing together and conflicting one another would make this stage of being a werewolf very confusing. She wants to hunt her neighbors cats, yet knows better. She belongs with the pack, yet her father is human. Pretty confusing there.
The pack treats her like that because usually people who go through premature transformations into half-werewolves(Which is what she became. Kind of like something out of teen wolf), are seen as wannabes and pretenders, not something to be taken seriously.
She's not exactly losing herself right there. Those are the sudden thoughts and impulses of the wolf shouting in her brain what's considered normal, and they're really, really hard to ignore cause they're so loud. It's like if your brain kept shouting in your mind to run around and act like a dog, even though you're trying to focus on your work, it gets harder and harder to ignore what your mind is telling you to do. In a while, she'll eventually learn to control her impulses.
Oh, she'll have to, one way or another. But it may not turn out the way you'd expect.
The pack treats her like that because usually people who go through premature transformations into half-werewolves(Which is what she became. Kind of like something out of teen wolf), are seen as wannabes and pretenders, not something to be taken seriously.
She's not exactly losing herself right there. Those are the sudden thoughts and impulses of the wolf shouting in her brain what's considered normal, and they're really, really hard to ignore cause they're so loud. It's like if your brain kept shouting in your mind to run around and act like a dog, even though you're trying to focus on your work, it gets harder and harder to ignore what your mind is telling you to do. In a while, she'll eventually learn to control her impulses.
Oh, she'll have to, one way or another. But it may not turn out the way you'd expect.
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