oneandahalfwolf

[oneandahalfwolf]

Through their pain and wheezing, Ben felt something plop into their uninjured left hand. Watery grey eyes opened and landed on the blurry image of their inhaler. At the insistent boops from a familiar fox nose the witchling managed to nod, grasping the device as tightly as they could and bringing it to their mouth. Using their teeth they pulled the lid off before wrapping their lips around it. It was a struggle to hold their breath, but they managed it, letting the medicine inside the inhaler work its magic in their lungs.

After three puffs they finally felt the tightness in their chest ease but took one more just to be sure. They let the device fall to the floor, taking some deep breaths as they closed their eyes and pressed their temple to the motel room carpet. That was better. The young werewolf took another minute to fully collect themself as much as they could before they lethargically lifted their left hand and reached for roughly where their senses told them their fox friend was. They hit the fabric of the jacket first but quickly shifted to find the fur at her neck, scratching it gently.

“Thanks, fuzzbucket,” they whispered tiredly.

Ben took another few moments to enjoy that sensation before they sighed and heaved themself up into a sitting position. With their uninjured had they wiped at their face and rubbed at their freshly buzzed head. They were more than ready to just fall into bed right now, they were utterly exhausted. But they still had to sort their bags and dress their wounds, not to mention get dressed.

At that thought the werewolf paused, and blushed fiercely, realising they were only in their underwear with (almost) every bit of them on display.

“Ah sorry,” they stammered, clearing their throat and making a move to stand. “About that and… all this.” They motioned to their body with a dismissive wave of their hand. “I’ll um, just finish up, Sorry, and thanks.”

Ben quickly made their way back to the bathroom and closed the door, pressing their forehead to the wood. Embarrassment and shame swirled in their gut. How could they let their poor friend see them like that, see the horror their clothes usually hid. They were such a stupid idiotic mutt.

The witchling growled and leant back, shaking their head as they shoved her voice and their self-depicating thoughts out of their head for the moment. Now wasn’t the time for that. Now was the time to get their act together. Moving away from the door they pulled on the fresh clothes bar their socks since they still had to dress their feet. They made short work of cleaning up their hair and any errant fur of Ember’s. before leaving the dirty towels in the shower for housekeeping tomorrow. Finally, they collected their dirty clothes and the razor, and made their way back out into the main room.

They couldn’t make eye contact with the fox as they made their way over to the trolley, dumping their laundry on the floor next to it to be sorted tomorrow morning. After that they collected the new first aid kit along with all the old bits and pieces from their backpack and duffel. Lastly they grabbed the prescription bag before finally moving to their bed and sitting on it, placing the items beside them. It was slow going, but they managed to unwrap the first aid kit and open it, grabbing the antiseptic cream and wipes. Bracing themself they started to their injured hand, hissing as the wound stung like crazy. Once both their palm and the back were slathered they shifted their attention to wrap the appendage in fresh bandages.

Having finished her meal while Ben was in the shower, Orianna had curled up on the bed to snooze as she waited. When the door crashed open, and Ben all but fell through, Ori's eyes snapped open and she immediately looked at the source of the commotion.

Her ears flicked forward at the sight. Ben was struggling to breathe, and she could see they'd been going for their pocket. Orianna got to her feat, and leapt to the floor, dashing for the jacket. She quickly nuzzled her way into the pocket where the smell of medicine was strongest, finding the inhaler. Grabbing it, she ducked back out of the pocket and ran over to her friend. She depositied the medicine into their hand, and booped their wrist three times.

Come on, come on, come on. Use the inhaler!

As she waited, Orianna took the time to look over the kid. Ben was extraordinarily skinny, even for a homeless person. Then there was all the scarring. The kid was practically walking, talking scar tissue. The kid was a mess, and clearly needed help.

Orianna didn't know what had happened to them, but when she had her humanoid form back she'd get them the best help money could buy.

[oneandahalfwolf]

Ben didn’t fully know what Missy meant by ‘hurt’, but from the look on her face and the tone of her voice they figured it was likely something private between the couple. They weren’t one to pry, and if the brunette didn’t want to let them in on the details, then it wasn’t any of their business. Besides, now might not be the best time for more heavy emotional discussions.

At the Time Lady’s question, the werewolf glanced towards the baby as well before exhaling lengthily through their nose, brows furrowing in thought.

“We should let him sleep. Trying to wake a toddler wolf-kin before they’re ready will just lead to one very cranky puppy. At least that’s what my Mama used to say.” Ben gave a fond if slightly wry smile as they mentioned their mother, heart panging still despite the many years since the loss. “He’ll wake when he’s hungry. In the meantime, I suggest we at least get him out of the lab. I’m sure Vesta can make us a suitable room. Far from Ori.”

Missy appreciated Ben’s reassurances, though it would take a while for her mind to accept a lot of what they were saying. Everything internally was screaming at her to pull herself together; she wasn’t supposed to be the one who was scared, she was supposed to be the one who was scary. She felt a bit pathetic, and was glad at least that it was only Ben seeing her like this.

She had to chuckle as she imagined Ori going ‘I told you so,’ about lab safety. That was easy to believe as truth. She was less sure though about Ori not being upset.

“I didn’t mean angry,” Missy said slowly. “I meant, she might feel hurt.” She remembered all too well their first discussion about potentially having children, and how she had accidentally gotten her partner’s hopes up with the careless wording of an answer. She remembered the disappointment on Ori’s face when she had had to correct herself and dash that hope moments later. Missy thought that maybe Ori would feel hurt that the timelady had created a child with someone else, however accidentally it had happened.

As for Ben reassuring her that she was a good person…well, that would take time for her to really believe too. But she was trying to be. And she had managed to win over both Ben and Ori, who knew good and evil when they saw it. So maybe they had a point there.

She wanted to point out that it wasn’t as simple as deciding to be extra careful; that there were a million things that could go wrong under normal circumstances, and that these were certainly not normal circumstances. She didn’t though, deciding that it wasn’t worth arguing with Ben over. She would just avoid holding the little thing as much as she could, so that hopefully any potential harm wouldn’t be her fault. She couldn’t drop it or crush it if she wasn’t holding it to begin with.

Missy sighed, resigned to the fact that they were probably keeping the little one, glancing over at the sleeping creature before looking back at Ben.

“So what do we do now?”

[oneandahalfwolf]

A cry of pain ripped itself from the young werewolf’s as the elf grabbed their shoulders and pulled them up, the grip and movement had the pain they’d managed to sort of push to the side roaring to the front and ripping through them, adding to their breathlessness. They whimpered fearfully as the rebel came into view, cheeks going red with embarrassment – still able to feel humiliation despite the agony. However there was no strike of punishment like instinct was expecting. Instead there was the scent of magic and a familiar healing warmth (though it didn’t trigger the burn that came from the silver inlay in their harness like when their own healing kicked in).

The tightness around their chest eased and their wheezing settled to a hoarse rattle. It still hurt to swallow but they didn’t feel like they couldn’t breathe. Despite feeling better, they weren’t back to their trained warrior self. As the rebel let go and moved away, on instinct they reached out and grabbed onto her, whimpering and shaking their head vigorously as they tugged her closer. They’d been given a brief moment of comfort, and they weren’t ready to let it go just yet. Especially after what they’d just experienced.

Their ears twitched as she spoke, blush spreading further and going down their neck – making the bruising stand out all the worse.

“Don’t mention it,” they croaked out in a whisper, wincing as it felt like gravel dragging up their throat.

They meant it. She better not mention it. They had to at least pretend to save face. Even of they were happy she appeared to not have had to go through the trial like they did.

Speaking of saving face.

The Wolf realised they were still clinging to the elf and quickly let go. The embarrassment was rising as was the self-loathing. If their Mistress could see them now, they’d be in so much trouble. They swiped at their cheeks forcefully with the sleeve of their (no longer) white shirt, trying to get rid of the tear stains. It didn’t help that their eyes were still leaking, though they were grateful they were able to keep any further sobs at bay.

When their face didn’t feel quite as gritty they cleared their throat, though instantly regretted it as another wince flitted across their face along with a faint grunt of pain. A pale hand subconsciously went for their throat, long fingers probing gently at the bruising under their jaw. They’d never had neck bruising that high up before. The limb lowered automatically to skim over the leather of their collar. It was odd, it didn’t bring them comfort this time.

The werewolf blinked and realised their vest was still down, and hastily pulled the zip back up, hiding the collar from view – though the noose bruising was still visible, but that didn’t bother them as much. For the moment. They almost made an attempt to stand but dizziness at even thinking about doing so had them remaining seated. Instead they removed their cape and tried their best to clean their hands a little, not able to look at the rebel as they tried to work up the courage to carry on their task. They had to get going and move onto the next trial.     

Misi nodded wordlessly when the teen thanked her, and let them have a few seconds of a lead as the pair progressed to the next trial. The kid seemed liked they needed their space.

She entered the darkened corridor just in time to see them step off the edge, the rope pulling taut. She started forward - to grab them or cut the rope, she didn’t know which - but just as she reached the edge, they disappeared. One moment they were there, the next, she was standing alone at the end of the stone plank, watching the empty rope swing over the seemingly endless darkness.

She eyed the rope. This was a test, but Misi didn’t trust this tomb one bit. She didn’t want it to become hers as well. Still, it seemed the only way out was through.

She took a breath.

She closed her eyes.

She stepped off the edge and into the abyss.

She was falling through the eerie quiet and dark, wind whipping her hair and cloak;

falling,

and falling,

and falling,

and falling,

and-

“Oof!”

Misi landed on her feet, wincing and blinking in the sudden brightness. She looked behind her, and saw that the noose was gone, nothing but ash on the ground, beside a stone platform, no more than waist-high. The falling must have been part of the test, then. A leap of faith.

Finally turning to look ahead, she saw the Wolf Warrior (which somehow felt an innaccurate description now that she knew they were a child) lying prone, somehow having crossed the line that had ended the enchantment. They were shaking, a terrible wheezing sound coming from their throat.

The elf knelt beside them, taking their shoulders and hauling them into a seated position, and cast Spare the Dying. It wasn’t the best healing spell, but it was the best she could do at the moment. When she was sure they wouldn’t fall over again, she let go and just waited, letting them catch their breath.

“Thank you,” she murmured, not sure if they could hear her. “For making it over the line.”

[oneandahalfwolf]

Gluef’nar screeched with indignation and mild pain as the Time Lady dug her nails into one of its tentacles, the sound reverberating around the mirror realm. Instinctively the creature let go of Ben’s right wrist to wrap around Missy’s forearm, squeezing in an attempt to get her to let go. Too late it noticed her other hand at its prey’s left shoulder, only aware of her plan when the psyche it was entrenched in started to flicker with darkness.

“NO!”

The scream of rage came from the darkness and from Ben’s throat; the cry equal parts Gluef’nar’s creaky and low notes, and the wolf-kin’s own hoarse and human tones, with both the howl and roar of a werewolf harmonising beneath. Driven by desperation and hunger, the creature chased its prey’s final biggest fear, dragging Missy in as well.

Ben opened their eyes, frowning at the sight before them. They were back alone in the foggy dark expanse, kneeling on the cold floor. Something felt off. Their hands were wet. They looked down and grey eyes widened. Pale skin was covered in blood. Red and dripping. Their gaze strayed to the floor where there were streaks and drag marks leading away from them. They followed the trail and what they found at the end had a gut-wrenching sob crawling out of their throat.

It was Iley.

Their mate, their best friend, their sister.

Dead.

They crawled forward, tears starting to fall as they cradled the half-elf, bloody hand creating red streaks on her cheek as they brushed limp hair aside. Watery grey eyes stared into lifeless brown ones.

“No. Iley please. Wake up. Please wake up. Don’t leave me. You promised.”

This was their worst fear. Even more so than the Queen returning to torment them in any capacity. That Iley would die. And worse, that she would die by their hand.

As Benkai’l sobbed over the vision of their soulmate deceased in their arms, Gluef’nar tried to feed on the fear it provided. However given one feeding tentacle was wrapped around the Time Lady’s blouse clad arm and another was latched to the non-organic prosthetic, the only other still in contact with its prey’s skin was the one around their neck and that didn’t give the creature enough access to properly siphon its delicious nutrition.

Unable to prevent unconsciousness any  longer or to finish feeding properly, the insectoid decided the best recourse was to retreat for the moment. With one last screech Gluef’nar pulled itself free from the werewolf’s mind. There was the sound of ripping flesh as it detached its tentacles, the ends melting into the darkness so its prey remained restrained, shackled to the black floor. It would do no good for its prospective fear battery to escape.

There wasn’t much chance the wolf-kin could, however. As the creatures skittered back into the darkness Ben was non the wiser their hitchhiker had left. They weren’t even aware of their organic bonds. Their left arm, waist, and neck were wrapped tight and only had an inch of give against the cold ground. The right was the only one somewhat free, their bicep connected to Missy’s forearm thanks to her distraction attempt instead of the floor.

The confinements weren’t the only reason they’d not try and escape. Their body was completely drained, the werewolf unable to lift their head up even if it was free. Their pale skin was grey, cracked lips bluer than usual and stained with blood. Dark circles were shiny and swollen around their eyes, grey orbs blood shot and glazed as they stared into space, vision full of only Iley’s dead face.

In the darkness Gluef’nar chittered lowly, watching carefully as it digested its feast. Normally it would sleep after such a meal. But it needed to keep watch. It needed to come up with a plan to keep its prey and get rid of the other one.  

“I am NOT Her!” Missy hissed, trying and failing to pry Ben’s hands from her clothes. It wasn’t like she could break their grip by force - she didn’t want to hurt Ben; they were going through enough pain at the moment as it was. The vile mirror creature knew this, and was taking advantage. Ugh, caring about people was awful sometimes.

She tried to move their head gently back, away from her, but stiffened when she heard them begin to beg. A chill ran down her spine, and she realized from the sound of their voice that they weren’t just referring to Gluef'nar.

“I can’t,” Missy said, retracting her hands. “I’m sorry.”

Her mind raced, finally coming up with the word she’d been looking for: stun. She could try to stun them! If Ben was unconscious, the leech shouldn’t be able to access their memories, right? It wasn’t a great idea, but it was the only one she had at the moment, and she couldn’t let this continue. She wouldn’t let this continue.

Missy heard the yelp and snapped back to the present at the exact moment Ben knocked them both over, the pair landing with a muffled thud on the floor; (muffled because she’d broken their fall). She saw the flicker this time; she was ready for it, quickly reaching for a tentacle and digging her nails into the horrid slimy thing. She just needed to distract it for a moment….

As her other hand pinched Ben’s left shoulder, hard, hoping she had correctly remembered where that vulnerable nerve cluster was. A little trick she’d picked up on Vulcan, logically.

[oneandahalfwolf]

Ben gave Arden a grateful nod as he placed the ale in front of them, mirroring Orianna in taking a large swig of their drink. Their eyes shimmered yellow briefly and they smiled as the liquid burned a little stronger than usual down their throat, realising the barkeep had put a shot of werewolf whiskey in it. That was a pleasant surprise and definitely helped take the edge off the strain of the past few days.

The werewolf grimaced as Orianna told the pair of their escapades on the previous full moon night, tips of their ears folding slightly with guilt and sadness. They were quick to chug some more of their whiskey laced ale to get the memory of their sister’s blood out of their mouth. Yet another horrid thing to add to their ever-growing list of nightmare fuel.

They felt sad for Delilah as she gasped. It wasn’t easy to hear your employer was related to a child enslaver, let alone that they had tried to kill some good acquaintances of yours. At Orianna’s nudge they gave a soft hum in their throat only she would hear, their tail brushing across her lower back – letting her know they understood and offering her comfort.

“None of them showed any remorse for their decision, sticking by their despicable brother slash ex-employer to the end.” Not entirely true perhaps as the flash image of the snivelling crying one they had taken care of entered their mind, guilt flaring briefly in their gut. But they shoved it away as quickly as it came. He likely only felt regret because he had seen his brother die and knew he was next. Grey eyes flicked to Delilah. “We took care of everything. By all accounts it will seem like they left town. If anyone asks you can just say you went on lunch and when you came back everything was locked up without explanation. We can cover any lost wages you may need and more until you start with Arden or someone else. Probably not best to move on to a new job right away, less suspicious.”

“Thank you, Ben,” the blonde said with a smile, reaching to take and squeeze their hand before she did the same for Orianna with the other, “Both of you, thank you.”

“Of course,” the wolf-kin said, offering her a smile back.

Arden cleared his throat softly, tapping at his half-empty glass nervously.

“How are you both feeling? And perhaps more importantly, what are you going to do?”

Orianna followed Ben into the tavern, and was grateful for Arden’s foresight in ushering his patrons out. The past 24 hours had already been exhausting, and she did not feel like having an audience to her exhaustion.

She nodded at Arden at his questioning expression and then followed Ben into the booth. Delilah seemed to be relatively well put together despite being shaken. Orianna leaned back in her seat, and looked Delilah in the eye.

“So what do you know from Arden?” She asked tiredly.

“Just that you two were doing what had to be done, and that I’d have a paying job here if I wanted it. If not, that you two would help me find one. I’m still deciding on that. I need some time…and I have some questions.”

Orianna nodded as Arden returned with a tray carrying three ales and an elven wine for Delilah. He passed out the drinks, and then sat beside Delilah. Orianna gestured for Delilah to ask her questions, and then picked up her tankard and drank a healthy mouthful of her ale.

“What happened, and why did it need to be done?”

Orianna sighed and took another large swig of her ale.

“Let’s start with the why first. It will make it easier to understand the decisions we made today. Last night, we were ambushed by assassins under the full moon. We managed to fight them off but not before I was pushed over the cliff we were near. To save me, Ben caught my leg in their jaws. As you can imagine in that situation, it wasn’t a gentle nibble. So now I’m currently in a state of transition in the lycanthropy curse.”

Orianna took another swig, and noticed Arden blinked at the action. She understood why. While she could hold her liquor, Orianna wouldn’t be described as the type to attempt to drown her worries. She wouldn’t today either, but she could use the liquid courage.

“We managed to discover they’d been sent after us. The only place they could have found out our exact location was the real estate. We decided to ask questions but we knew that you were trustworthy so we made sure to get you out before everything kicked off. When I questioned your manager I recognised him. He…he had previously worked for the head of my former assassins guild, guarding children my old boss, Ulfgar had enslaved. Turned out…the owners were Ulfgar’s brothers. They wanted to kill me for killing their brother.”

Delilah gasped and covered her mouth as Orianna continued. She looked down, grabbed her goblet and took a large swig of wine. Orianna agreed with her sentiments and took another swig, nudging Ben pointedly in the process. They could take over the explanation for a while. Orianna needed a moment to collect herself.

[oneandahalfwolf]

Full Moon

Merry Christmas @hollowshadowwolf/ @oneandahalfwolf!!!! I hope you’re having a fantastic day!!!!

❄️❄️❄️

“WHERE IS IT?!?! WHERE IS THE BEAST?!?!”

Orianna huffed quietly. Anyone who might have been close might have thought the unnaturally large hound had laughed. But no one was near her. She’d been playing with these hunters for almost an hour.

She and Ben had known they were coming for them on the full moon. The hunters were clearly inexperienced, and the were creatures had caught their scent, and seen their tracks a few days before the full moon.

The sibling duo put their heads together to strategise after they became aware of them. They had no choice but to transform on the full moon. The hunters knew this, but what they couldn’t know is that both were-creatures had full control of themselves regardless of the full moon. And neither the Hound nor the Wolf would allow the hunters to get to their cabin, their den. This mountain range was theirs. It didn’t matter if you asked the Tiefling and the Wolf-Kin or the Hound and the Wolf. They’d carved out this territory for their own peace. A place to come back to, to call home when they weren’t adventuring.

On this night, under Lady Lunar’s full light it would be the Hound and the Wolf answering the challenge. The hunters wouldn’t be making it out alive.

Per the strategy Ori had been playing with the Hunters. Appearing and then disappearing into the darkness. Despite the Were Hellhound always burning and putting out smoke, she had better stealth than most creatures could claim. She could hear Ben circling closer, ready to make the hunters regret their choices when they were tired and realised there were two were creatures to handle. They were getting close to that now.

Orianna rose from her crouching position and made her final pass making sure to sow chaos through the group as she ran through them. She could feel the silvered tips of arrows fly over her, and a silvered chain narrowly missed her flank.

The Hound could hear their panting, and their hearts beating double-time in fear. They definitely weren’t experienced hunters for her to be able to corral them like this. Especially given that her control over the Hound was so new. Orianna had almost a year of controlled transformations under her belt but that was nothing in the grand scheme of things, and she was still learning a lot.

As she ran to safety, Orianna put her nose to the air; quickly finding Ben’s scent. Following it, she found them in a glade. As she slowed and walked closer to them, she shook her great, horned head, chuffing as she did.

“They’re ready. They’re scared.”

Ben growled back quietly, flicking their ears back and forth.

“You made it sound easy from here. Silver?”

Ori chuffed again, twitching her snout.

“Lots, but their aim is shit.”

Ben let out a series of chuffs as though they were laughing. Inexperienced hunters had made the mistake of entering these ranges many times before. One experienced party was almost completely wiped out with only a few of them making it out with melted weapons. No experienced hunters had bothered to come after that. A well bonded pack, even one as small as theirs wasn’t worth the risk in most cases.

Ben got up from their position, their black shaggy form slightly larger than their sister’s sleeker one. Especially now that Ori had figured out how to help them put on weight. They were doing much better and even their healing factor had improved. They rumbled at their sister as they turned away from her.

“Let’s take them out. I’d like to go for a run before the moon goes down.”

Orianna rumbled her agreement and ran in the opposite direction to her sibling. They’d planned for this. Come at the hunters from two different angles, and then tear them apart.

Neither canine had much mercy for werewolf hunters. They were the reason why Orianna had been turned in the first place. Had endured painful transformations and hard lessons over the last few years, putting both of their life goals on hold.

Orianna circled around the hunters to come in from their left side. This time she made an effort to actually hit them with her paws and rip them apart. Her body temperature raised and it began to melt the weapons in her vicinity.

The scent of fear was pungent in the air, and it only got worse as a loud howl sounded from the hunters’ right flank. Another were creature to join the fight.

Ben burst through the tree line, jaws snapping left and right. They had mastered killing their enemies in one bite. A task Orianna was still mastering. The last thing she wanted was a werewolf she needed to teach, or worse a were hellhound like herself. It wasn’t clear what the transformation of anyone she bit would be. By all accounts, she should have been a werewolf with Ben’s bite.

The canine pair made quick work of the hunters, quickly burying them along with whatever silver they could bury at this moment. They’d bury the rest of the poisonous metal tomorrow when it had hardened again, and they could do it with gloves on.

Refusing to waste any further time, the pair ran into the trees. Happy howls echoed through the mountains as the pair ran, and hunted to their hearts’ content. In these mountains, and with controlled transformations, full moons were a happy occasion. There was nothing left to fear now that they could both remain consciously in control under a full moon, and life was filled with fresh opportunities.

[oneandahalfwolf]

The young werewolf couldn’t hear the rebel approach, blood rushing through their ears the only sound along with their laboured breathing, but they managed to not flinch as her hand entered their field of view. Mostly because their vision was blurred, and they hadn’t noticed it. But the out of focus blob of white interrupting their staring match with the puddle of black and yellow stalled their downward spiral of self-loathing and their inner berating. Slowly, far too slowly for their liking, grey eyes focused in on the pale hand before them.

For a moment they just stared at it. They knew they should push the hand away. That they should be disgusted that the rebel would even come near them, let alone offer her hand to help them. They should rage and brush her aside. They were Her Majesty’s warrior, her loyal pet. They were supposed to be strong. Not bent over and snivelling like a fucking child.

But they couldn’t find that strength. They felt weak, both physically and mentally. Hell, even emotionally. There was a tiny voice that was screaming, aching, for a hug. However, no matter much they might want it, they knew that wasn’t allowed. That would be somehow worse than being held up by the wall according to their Mistress. Held up by someone, someone who wasn’t their Mistress. Someone who was a rebel. If Mistress found out it would only add to their punishment.

In the end, they were able to compromise. Sort of. With a short exhale through their nose, the warrior took the brunette’s hand and pulled themself upright. They winced a little as their broken body protested in so many ways, but with practiced ease they pushed it aside. The wolf warrior cleared their throat softly and sniffed, letting go of her hand and wiping their palm on their vest instinctively – not even realising it could be seen as an insult.

“Thank you,” they mumbled, not making eye contact as they resisted wringing their hands together. Instead, they awkwardly gave a forced semi-smile before they started down the corridor again, hating that they couldn’t stop their ears and tail from drooping as if they were trying to appear smaller.

No, they had to be good. Be strong.

As they turned the corner the mask of the Queen’s Warrior was (mostly) back in place, air of confidence exuding from their pores as they marched towards the plinth for the next trial.

The waist high plinth was the same as the last three trials, but the corridor beyond was again its own thing. This time it was nothing. As in the entire room a few feet past the plinth was pure blackness. No light whatsoever. No luck getting an insight at what was to come without checking the notebook.

Luckily, in a twisted way, they didn’t have to reapply pressure to the wound in their thigh to get blood as they seemed to have pierced the palm of the hand the rebel hadn’t taken with their claws whilst they were embarrassing themself with their vomiting display. Without much fan fair they placed their still bloody palm onto the flat stone surface. As before, a red glow started to expand down lines etched in the stone from the plinth down towards the walls. However, this time the glow did not reach whatever end point they were supposed to go to. The room remained annoyingly dark. What was lit up via a magical spotlight that came from no source was a thin stone ‘plank’ protruding from the platform like a board from a pirate ship.

And at the end of it, hanging over the nothingness beyond, was a noose.

A pit formed in their stomach. They didn’t need to open the notebook to check. They’d read it back to front after all. Usually, they might verify just to be sure, but the anecdotes on this trial had always sent shivers down their spine. Seeing it in the flesh just made the feeling of dread all the worse. Grey eyes strayed down to the stone plank, the runes carved in it already translated in their mind thanks to the notebook.

‘Leap of Faith.’

Before they could change their mind or hear any protests from the other person in the temple, the teen moved forward and grabbed the noose. In one fluid motion they looped it over their head and around their neck, pulling it tight. It was uncomfortable and scratchy against their skin, nothing like the comfort of their leather collar. Fingers brushed against said collar under the high collar of their vest as they let their arms fall to their sides, using the familiar feeling to project calm and strength throughout their body.

This trial was about faith. They had faith in their collar. In their Mistress. In the mission. Faith was all they had. All they needed.

Closing their eyes the werewolf took the step.

The rope went taught.

The choking feeling was familiar yet worse, the pressure under their jaw rather than around their neck. All breath left them in an instant. It took everything in them not to struggle, to grab the rope and try to escape.

But they had to have faith.

One second they were stepping off the ledge, the next they were hanging, the third their body seemed to slide out of the noose and disappear.

The Wolf Warrior collapsed onto dirt ground, wheezing worse than before as they fought for breath, neck and throat burning. Pale hands came up to paw at the fastly bruising flesh, as if it would help air flow. They yanked at the zip of their vest, pulling at the garment and their cape, panic the only thing filling their senses.

They never wanted to do that again.

Again…

Their head snapped back. They were sitting at the other end of the corridor now, dimly lit torches lighting the area just a little. They could see the plinth and ledge, though there was a hazy film in front – evidence of the darkness being magical in origin. The noose still hung there, though it was actually only a few feet off the ground.

The trial…

It wasn’t technically over.

They had to end it. They couldn’t let the woman go through this experience. It was awful. She might be a rebel but even she didn’t deserve this. No one did. Except perhaps them. They wouldn’t wish this on their worst enemy.

With every ounce of strength that remained in their frail body, the teen werewolf whipped back around and threw themself forward, making sure their body crossed the line that marked the end. Immediately the torches whooshed to full power, chasing away the blackness as the spell causing it was extinguished. The noose fell from the ceiling and disintegrated, ash and woven threads hitting the dirt.

The Queen’s Warrior gave a sob of relief, a few tears splashing into the sandy dirt as they remained face down. They couldn’t move let alone stand, all attention focused on trying to breath through the excruciating pain in their throat.

Their lungs could not catch a break it seemed.

They really hope the next trial didn’t require holding their breath or anything.

“That’s not what I-…”

Misi trailed off as the teen walked away, knowing they weren’t listening anymore. She closed her eyes briefly, taking a calming breath, before following them. The gods were really testing her today, it seemed.

She wasn’t far from them when they doubled over, and her first instinct was to help, but she hesitated, hanging back as she noticed the tension in their body. They were fighting…whatever this was, but she doubted they would let her help if she tried. The sound was terrible, the teen coughing and sputtering as their body shook, but Misi gave them their space, a silent witness.

Finally, it was over, the teen breathing heavily, a puddle of sick on the floor in front of them. Misi was surprised to see that it was nearly identical to the mystery goo she had found in an earlier corridor. She wondered if it was a side effect from one of the trials - the trial of blood, perhaps? - or if it was something else that was causing this. She guessed she’d have to wait and see.

After a few moments, Misi walked over and held out her hand; a wordless offer of help. She didn’t look at them, just waited to see if they would take it, or if they were still upset with her. They might be a fearsome warrior most of the time, but right now they were just a kid.

[oneandahalfwolf]

Wolf was wheezing slightly by the time they made it to the third floor, chest a little tight and legs ever so wobbly. Clara noticed with her enhanced hearing, the rattle of their lungs almost like a maraca in her ears seeing as she was making sure to be extra in tune with her young charge. The were-pire gently nudged the younger werewolf before pointing to their hoodie pocket. The teen’s brows furrowed before they realised what she meant, reaching inside the pocket to collect the everyday inhaler, taking two puffs as they’d been instructed by the doctor. They were still amazed how much the little device helped, perhaps even more than their old medicine. Maybe they should suggest it as an alternative to their Mistress when they got back home.

Grey eyes screwed shut for a second as they shook their head, trying to get that thought out of their head. They were still conflicted about there vs here, but they knew dwelling on it would give them a headache they didn’t want right now. Especially as Clara knocked on a bright yellow door four times. Instinctively and unconsciously they sidled closer to Torcarya, brushing her shoulder slightly with theirs in order to garner some comfort in proximity. They still couldn’t help but flinch slightly when the door opened, faint blush spreading over their cheeks when it was simply an older brunette man on the other side. His smile was wide as he beckoned them forward with a hearty ‘come in, come in’. Wolf had no choice but to follow the adults through the doorway.

The room itself was about the size of one of the smaller training rooms at the Organisation, filled with plain wooden topped metal desks and plastic chairs as well as shelves and cabinets along the walls. At the front was blackboards and whiteboards, currently black, with a brunette woman standing with her own kind smile.

“Please, take a seat.”

Wolf allowed Clara to usher them to one of the desks at the front before she took residence at one behind and to the side of them – out of eyeline to prevent distraction or excess anxiety but close enough to provide help if need be. The teen werewolf was not a fan of the chair, the plastic digging into their bones, but they weren’t about to say anything or cause a scene. That would just get them in trouble. Grey eyes focused on the front of the room as the man joined the woman, clapping his hands together.

“Hello, I am Mr Chesterton and this is Mrs Wright, but you can call us Ian and Barbara.”

“Today is a simple day,” the woman said. “You could call it a training day. We’re just going to check things like your reading and writing comprehension, see if you need any accommodations.”

Wolf didn’t say anything even as they repeated and expanded upon what Clara had said earlier, eyes fixed somewhere between the two. They wanted nothing more than to lock fringers with Torca or hold her jacket to make sure she was still there, that they weren’t alone, but they didn’t dare move as the two brunettes brought some paper and pencils to their tables.

Torcarya smiled politely back at her and nodded. She glanced over to make sure that Wolf was still there, and then followed the adults as they led the way.

“Upstairs” was actually up two flights of stairs, skipping right past the second floor to the third, and then down a short hallway lined with metal lockers and colorful doors. Clara led them to one at the end, on the left, and knocked four times.

Torcarya fidgeted absentmindedly with the end of her braid, both looking forward to- and dreading the lessons. She hadn’t been in real school since before she had run away. The Organization had been more concerned with her combat, stealth, and telekinetic abilities. She could read and write - it would have been difficult to follow instructions on away missions without those skills - and her basic math wasn’t bad, but she didn’t know what else they would test her on. The not-knowing gnawed at her as they waited for the tutors to answer the knocks.

[oneandahalfwolf]

don't ask...

[oneandahalfwolf]

THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER (2021) 1.03 • "The Power Broker"

[oneandahalfwolf]

Agatha All Along 1.02 | Circle Sewn With Fate / Unlock Thy Hidden Gate

[oneandahalfwolf]

Agatha All Along I Darkest Hour, Wake Thy Power

[oneandahalfwolf]

[oneandahalfwolf]

Period Drama Appreciation Week 2024 Day 4 ❥ Favorite Relationship

LUCILLE SHARPE and EDITH CUSHING | CRIMSON PEAK (2015) dir. Guillermo del Toro

[oneandahalfwolf]

[oneandahalfwolf]

Wolf peered into the room that was Torcary’s before shifting their attention to their own, a carbon copy but mirrored so the bunks shared a wall. As River spoke they shuffled inside, nodding along with the rules whilst their eyes took in their new digs. It was bare bones indeed, but they weren’t going to complain. It was better than the cell. Plus, they were used to basics. Some of the safe houses they’d used over the many years had been nothing more than a room with a mattress and a bucket. Even back home they didn’t always have their own room. Sometimes their room was their Mistress’ room, or just the medical bay. The werewolf wasn’t about to voice any of that to the rebels, or give them any gratitude. Even if part of them wanted to, the women believed this to be a common courtesy, the very least that could be done. Best not let them know it was far more than some of they’d been given. They didn’t want pity, especially not right now.

The idea of a schedule didn’t bother them, after all that’s pretty much all they had back at the Organisation. Training. Eating. Playtime. Sleeping. Rinse and repeat. Even missions had an agenda. So they had no arguments over what time to go to bed and what time to wake up. If they did, they’d not be listened to probably, which wasn’t anything new. Instead of saying anything they fished the red inhaler out of their pocket and placed it on the pillow of their bed. They didn’t know why, something about making it lived in perhaps.

They exited the room back into the hall as their friend asked her question, brows furrowing as grey eyes looked between the women and their head tilted slightly as they also wondered what was next. The young werewolf didn’t have the same reservation about sitting around and doing nothing, so they would just follow and do as they were told. As they should. They were a good dog after all.

“Now we’re going to take you upstairs and show you where you’ll be getting your lessons,” Clara responded. “You’ll meet our tutors and with their help we’ll see where your education is at along with any accommodations you might need.” The brunette smiled. “Then we’ll make sure to get you some lunch before anything else.”

Torcarya nodded along silently as Clara explained. The rooms appeared small, but there was a shelf-like bunk attached to one wall, and what she presumed was a closet-like bathroom on the other. The bunk didn’t look particularly comfortable, but anything was better than sleeping on the floor again. There was a very obvious camera set up in one upper corner, which explained why the bathroom was completely enclosed.

“Now the rules,” River announced. “You already know the main one - no violence towards others. The second one is similar: no violence towards yourselves. Third, no weapons or potential weapons unless under supervision. Lights out at nine, rise and shine at seven; lessons in the morning, exercise in the afternoon. And most importantly, Clara and I are here to help you - let us. We’re here to teach, to guide, to listen, and to support you. I know this is going to be a rough transition for the pair of you. Let us make it easier.”

Torcarya didn’t know what to say, so she just didn’t say anything for a moment. Then it occurred to her that it was still pretty early in the day, and Missy had said lessons and whatnot wouldn’t start until the following day.

“…so…what now?” she asked, looking around the room and then back to River. She’d spent three weeks bored out of her mind in the force-field room. She really hoped she wouldn’t be expected to sit and do nothing for hours at a time again now.

[oneandahalfwolf]

SFX make up done by Lucy Rowley for the @NetflixUK series @CursedNetflix last year on Daniel Sharman. Designed by Erika Okvist (source)