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luminartistwriter · 26 days ago

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Werewolfton

Growling, he started on his haunches, attempting to walk like he was supposed to do in his normal form. However, upon looking down and seeing his forearms significantly smaller than previously, Layton leaned forwards, and continued down the moonlit path on all fours.

His skin no longer felt thin with cold, and his breath was steady and calm, unlike the exerted chasing which he had experienced before his transformation, leaving him in this situation at present. Layton paused to sniff at his fur, carrying the faint scent of ripped cloth and shoe. Breathing out in frustration, Layton found that his snout let out two jets of curling air before blending back into the cold, and fading away. The harsh wind above the wind-swept mountain began to blow again, shuddering the pine tree silhouettes above him, shaking the ground slightly below his paws. The earth seemed to groan with the effort of staying firm, and not blowing away like the rest of the scattered particles from the dust. The looming surroundings began to continuously darken as the blood moon began to rise up higher, the season of normal day and night now over.

Layton whimpered, looking around the shifty darkness to recover his lost tracks, turning around rapidly in circles as he attempted. In a sickening surprise, Layton found that the scent of torn leather was now depleted from his acute senses, fading swiftly down the river of wind. Whimpering slightly louder, the fear began to intensify as the only remaining left of familiarity of home was that of the faint view of the jagged pinpoints of light that settled over the cliffside, overlooking the ravine side which he now stood across from.

The cavernous area below carried a strong, moist breeze, being surging water that lay below like a winding, invisible serpent. The beast inside of Layton knew that the nightly waters made it impossible for crossing now. The season of dark has just begun. He was trapped for a long time, in this strange form, at night. Dark, deep, utter, night. Growling in frustration, Layton laid down, head on paws, looking over the cliffside in a twisted guilt. What about Luke? Where would he stay after the mobs dispersed? He couldn’t go back to him, but what if Luke was hurt? Alone? Afraid?

The pinpricks of light began to dim, flashing each one last time before fuzzing out. The town was now settling in for a long rest, and so was Luke, hopefully. The sun officially set, casting all colors of light behind the horizon, leaving only the blood moon to cast down hazy beams of scarlet, flooding the hillsides and forest. Layton looked up at it, and bared his teeth, growling. However, the spell of hatred ceased burning within his chest, and settled down.

Tears began to blur his vision as Layton fell down again on his chest, paws supporting his shaggy chin. Layton continued to whimper softly to himself, dragging his thick-furred tail behind him slowly against the rubble-strewn ground. Light powder spewed up in this movement, curling around the air around him, and settling on his dark fur, turning it silver. The night was growing long to Layton, and once more did he turn his head up to face the stained surface of the red moon. Feeling another dizzy wave hit him, Layton closed his eyes momentarily to steady his breathing.

Layton felt the hunger pangs return to his stomach, and the hair on his back bristled. Turning around, he saw a faint view of a fluffy tail in the shadows of the underbrush. Subconsciously, he licked his lips, and turned, crouching low. The night now lay open to him, like an undiscovered road, and he now knew that he had to take the opportunity.

Beginning slow at a trotting pace, Layton vision remained centered on the hare’s tail, bobbing freely against a sold black paste of underbrush. Coming across dry ground littered with pinecones, Layton paused, watching the white figure trace itself through the patch without a backwards glance.

It would hear him if he didn’t step lightly, but Layton didn’t even need to think about it, having his paws slide between the oval shaped obstacles silently, having his figure still remain low and cautious, in case if his prey was watching.

Tail fur narrowed thin, Layton lost himself into hunting, having a blur of seconds of memory as he felt his hind leg muscles tense, rippling his fur across his stomach area and sides. The blood red light cast a perfect shadow where all sides of the hare were exposed, both beady eye shadows focused clearly on the ground; paws busy feeding its small mouth dry leaves.

Layton finally grabbed a hold on his mental beast, knowing that killing this creature wouldn’t satisfy his gentlemanly standards, and how gross it would be to slaughter an innocent creature. A mental shove pushed aside his human reason, and regained control, pouncing muscles continuing to tense, claws unsheathed. The shadows continued to display occasional spots of shadow, where the drawn-out clouds rested, before the wind carrying it on its way.

Shuffling a bit to the side, Layton didn’t allow his prey to catch his scent, the wind blowing now into his face, but still prey in sight. Forgoing all logical reason, Layton waited, then sprang forwards, the next few seconds becoming a blur as both warm liquid and tousling limbs tackled his face.

However, he came out on top, clenching something warm in his teeth, feeling the warm juices slide down the inside of his throat, and chin. Gross. Just. Gross. The mental beast seemed pleased with itself, carrying its quarry into an overhanging shadow of the trees, placing the carcass on the ground.

Both beady eyes were limp from life, already losing their glossy texture. Layton mentally closed his eyes as his beast form swallowed the poor animal whole, using his tongue to clean off any excess remains. The queasiness pangs of hunger eventually ceased, and his surroundings drew clear again.

That was when he heard it. It started off as a panicked rustle, but quickly escalated into a fast-running pace of a slightly large creature bounding through the woods grounds, coming up on him quite suddenly. Whipping around, teeth bared, Layton squinted in effort, trying to pinpoint the noise’s location. The darkness yielded no assistance, but the long grasses swayed and twitched, the crunching sound of breaking leaves heard distinctly over the flowing wind.

Feeling something attach itself to his leg, Layton squealed, throwing both him and it up into the air in surprise. The pressure on his leg only tightened, and Layton drew more panicked. Adding some threatening growling, Layton gave one last shove, and the creature broke loose, tumbling back to the ground, rolling into the grass barrier once more. Layton took an apprehensive step back, waiting. Not sure why he was waiting, Layton pawed one step forwards, and gave a long sniff. It smelled familiar of home, drained out heavily by severely dampened clothes and water-logged shoes. He heard something familiar; the creature was making some sort of distressed noise, a sniffling? wailing? No, that doesn’t sound right.

Standing over the shaking patch of grass now, Layton hesitated before plunging his nose into the underbrush. Warm dew settled on his nostrils as he continued to push further into the grass. Suddenly, something hard smacked itself on his snout, and Layton yanked his nose back out, whining. The creature’s cries began to increase in volume, a pale face finally appearing out of the grass.

Standing bravely, brandishing the snout-wounding weapon of a stick, a small child stood up, form visibly shaking. Layton saw the child’s mouth utter a series of yells and other noises that somewhat rang a familiarity, but not enough to be understood right away. The child drew closer to him, stick shoved up to Layton’s face. Layton felt a small smile creep up in his large lip. Luke; it was him! There’s no mistaking it now.

Pretending to cower in fear, Layton flattened both his ears and tail, crouching low to the boy’s height. Luke’s frame still shuddered, but advanced further to him, starting to examine Layton. Both hands rubbed Layton’s fur, tickling Layton’s underneath skin as Luke circled around him. Sharp black eyes trained to examine extreme details, Luke didn’t miss a single hair as he cautiously scanned the beast splayed out in front of him.

“P…professah? Is that you?”

Layton looked up into the boy’s gaze, and wagged his tail.

Yes! It was him! Good boy!

Face parting into a grieved smile, Luke buried his face into Layton’s fur, beginning to sob, “Professah! I thought you were dead…I saw the mob chase you out of the city, and across the river before the bridge broke! I thought you didn’t make it! I…I didn’t want to lose you!”

Layton rubbed his long tongue soothingly over the boy’s tousled hair, giving Luke’s body a thorough check with his nose as well before deeming Luke to be overall unharmed. Luke stopped shaking of fright, but still felt cold and wet against Layton’s fur, so Layton did the sensible thing of hoisting up the boy by the collar in his teeth, carrying him into the overhead pine forest’s dark below. Luke remained quiet along the way as Layton crossed over boulders and fallen logs, the two of them a silent shadow streak in the scarlet night’s light. Momentarily pausing to sniff out a small area, Layton set down Luke gently, letting the figure ball up on himself to preserve warmth.

Stepping into the view of a large-mouthed cave, Layton pawed and sniffed at the ground, examining the area carefully before picking up the boy again and set him down on a small pile of sticks and underbrush that Layton pushed together from the corners of the cave. Luke fell asleep almost instantly, hands gripping handfuls of Layton’s fur as Layton curled about the boy. Layton lay down his head as well, closing his eyes.

Luke was up before Layton was, carefully stepping out of Layton’s mass of fur before stepping outside. Luke stretched his sore muscles, and landed both feet onto the moist ground of the pine forest. The ground was littered with dead underbrush and pine needles, the atmosphere drawing a familiarity of a patched together quilt, having multiple shades of square fabric stitched together clumsily with brown thread. Still, the sights drew up no signs of hostile life and the air fresh and clean. If it weren’t for the ominous moon hanging drearily over the blood-red sky, would it have felt almost like home.

Layton felt around the area of his curled tail, and found the spot previously taken up by Luke to be empty. Quickly rising and leaving the cave’s entrance, Layton stopped mid-step to see Luke setting up a small table on a makeshift rock. Luke’s face was still significantly paler than usual, but nonetheless happier, “Good morning, Professah, over here!”

Layton took more calmer strides this time across the moist ground, both paw and paw pad drawing up clogs of dirt, staining the fleshy surface a dark brown. Looking over the boy’s shoulder, Layton found two place settings out, each with a small pile of berries.

“I don’t know if these are edible, sorry. I’ve only made it through one volume of the edible vs. poisonous plant study guides, but you know, right? These over here look like blueberries, and these here look like blackberries, but I am not sure if they are,” Luke stated, placing two fingers over the designated piles.

Layton sniffed the pile labeled ‘blueberries’, and took a small moment to think, ears and tail perking up. These looked and smelled like blueberries, but were they? Possibly. Layton shrugged, and moved to the ‘blackberries’, coming up with the same conclusion.

“I think they’re safe. According to the book, both types of berries can grow in pine forests, such as these…right?” Luke muttered, mentally thumbing through his memory.

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grecoromanyaoi · 2 months ago

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Idk how to phrase this but can you talk some more abt Anca's like general situation... I love hearing abt her already

yesssss omg so basically her grandmother lisistrata is the leader ("the master") of the cult of the stargazers. they are heavily based on the cult of dionysus, and basically believe the world is a play that the stars orchestrate for their enjoyment, and the most entertaining actors win a place of honor among the stars (become stars. badum tsss). they are batshit insane and have huge abuse n murder n drugs etc problems in the community bc the more "interesting" ur story is the better. also they base their logic and storytelling techniques and morals on the old plays, so they just fucking hate women (the general society is somewhat misogynistic, but its mostly in a strict gender roles way n not in a women r inferior way). lisistrata's son, mercuțio, was supposed to inherit her role, but he ran away from the cult with his girlfriend, leaving behind his older son, orlando. when anca was abt 15 her grandmother found them, murdered her son and kidnapped anca to the cult. when she grew up both her parents were p abusive n they were struggling financially n her house was a v unstable place n within the cult she was rich nobility, so p soon, altho after a good amount of grooming n gaslighting, she came to see the chain of events as positive. when she turned 19 (altho grooming her for it sooner) her grandmother turned her into some sort of a spy n borderline sw, where shes sent to learn ppls secrets (i was thinking abt finnic from the hunger games) so the cult could manipulate them n get better rights n benefits n support for her cult. her older brother, orlando, "fell in love w her" the moment he met her (when she was 15 n he was 31!! guards!!!!) n has a 4d chess type madonna whore complex abt her where he both thinks shes stupid n incapable n that he should take care of her but also that shes the most perfect woman in the world. his wife looks suspiciously similar to anca. theres also her "reeducator", damian, who is also certain hes in love w her, n both him n orlando r basically waiting for lisistrata to drop dead so they could marry her n make her into their pefect wife (docile housewife in a semi permanent state of pregnancy). basically almost everyone in her life is either psychologically, physically or sexually abusing her she just became so disconnected from herself - she learned not to form any opinions, to not moralize or think abt anything happening to her (if someone were to hit her shed think this is physically painful not this is bad or even this is harming me), to completely disconnect from her own body, etc. at the beginning of the story her grandma sends her as some sort of an embassador to the court n in order to seduce the crown prince, marin, who is actually the first person in her life to actually care abt her. so she starts learning abt herself n putting boundries n becoming opinionated n actually seeking out pleasuring herself instead of only other ppl (for example she starts exploring her bisexuality n actually fucking women, not just making out w them for mens amusement) n basically becoming her own person. im still not sure how her ties to the cult will end - i dont want to abolish the cult entirely, but i do want to 100% Get Her Out Of There yknow. so yeah tysm again. im so normal abt this story

#werewolftone #asks #wotbeotl #incest ment #abuse ment #cults ment #ask to tag #sa ment

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