Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Introduction to Werewolves Part III

Sorry for the lack of updates. I have thesis at my school due this week and I have had to spend a lot of time on that (eek!). But I did get cards of my blog printed plus bookmarks made to give out at the show. Btw, feel free to jump over to my art blog if you want to see artwork that is taken directly from my writing. That's what my thesis is- work from stories I have written. It'll be on my blog the day after the show.

But here is the ending to the story. Right now, it's still in draft 2. Draft 3 will be next week but only those really interested in it, should maybe email or comment if they want to see it. I'd rather get up some new material than spam my drafts :)

My phase would have been much swifter if I had not been so scared.
He had sensed my fear and recoiled, telling me that maybe I would take care of this problem in my man form. The female back at the house would wait for me. She would have to. A strong, well-bred wolf like myself was worth the wait.
I knew he was wrong.
The rogue stared at me and I knew he would have never attacked me without challenging me first. Matter of fact, he was giving me the time and care to get up and strengthen myself before we fought. I even felt his cold nose against the pad of one of my forepaws. Gripped in fright, I snapped at him, taking only a bit of hair back with me.
I began to stand, my shaking legs akin to a newborn foal, and tried to find my bearings. I had to kick away the remnants of my ripped jeans to stand properly and more assertively. When I did, I realized how sorely outmatched I was. I didn’t know who he was and his age was uncertain but his muzzle was scored by small scars. He wasn’t just another young rogue here to gain reputation.
He had bitten Cleo for a mate. In his older age, he wished to have a young mate to continue his line. I growled, a disturbing noise that heightened to the intensity of an ivory fanged snarl.
That was it.
I was on the ground in excruciating pain that reverberated through my body before I even knew what had happened. Spots danced in my vision. He looked amused as I, once again, tried to stand straight.
I growled at him, gaining my footing, as well as a minute amount of dignity, back. I met his next attack with one of my own, leaping into the air but his weight threw us several feet from the spot where I had come from and we fell into the dirt, a writhing pile of fur and fangs. I knew I was bleeding and pain registered in blinding sparks throughout my legs and face. I wriggled out from under him, huffing out dirt from my nose and wishing I had hands to wipe it from my eyes. I was coughing, choking on the dust and it was slowing me.
And that was my only advantage- my speed.
He chased me, outraged his opponent had gotten away, and I felt his teeth at my hackles. It made me exert the last amount of energy I had to jump away and then pivot to face him, angling my mouth for his throat.
I connected.
But not well.
With winter coming, his fur was thicker than it would have been if this were July and so my teeth could hardly even find skin. By this time, He had pushed me to the ground and just when I was about to count my light as going out…
A jingling noise caught my attention. And my attacker’s.
I saw a set of keys fall beside us and the rogue turned to snarl. Lucek stood at the top of the basin. What an idiot.
It gave me enough time to scramble away and jump onto the wolf’s back. Having had no luck with penetrating his throat earlier, I bit my jaws into the thinner fur at the base of his skull. The impact must have been heavy because my jaw shook with pain from striking hard bone and he yelped.
He tried to shake me away but by now he was at least feeling a semblance of pain. And more.
Lucek had become my guardian angel, throwing a heavy stone at the wolf, angering him and making him not entirely sure who he wanted to rip apart first.
I went for his throat again, having less resistance now, and was successful as a fount of hot blood hit my mouth. I latched, digging my fangs deeper and deeper into the wolf’s skin until he couldn’t shake me away.
My final attack was ripping away, taking a heavy chunk of furred flesh with me. His blood painted the ground black, his body limped and he was bleeding out quickly. It was both satisfying and frighteningly gruesome at the same time. Having finished my objective, my other nature pleased, I limped out of the basin and took to the bushes to change back.
When I came down the basin and into the moonlight, my hands and my mouth were painted in blood.
Lying in the settled dirt was not a wolf but a man.

    It was one of those moments where my mouth was open and yet I could not scream. My hands were shaking before my eyes. In front of me was the grotesque display of what I had done.
    A sound to my side reminded me that I was not alone. I gave myself the reprieve of tearing my glance from the body and looked at Lucek who seemed oddly unaffected by the blood. He simply skirted the edges of the growing pool, his eyes widened more in interest than in horror at what I had done.
    “Dude, what’s wrong?”
    I wanted to remind him that there was a dead body in front of us.
    “Crowe, it was on orders.”
    He tried to kill me. I thought.
    I should have felt more comforted by what my conscience had told me. It was self-defense. Yet, I had hunted this man. Was that really an excuse then?
    “You gonna stare at it all night?”
    I shook my head.
I wondered how I had gotten to this point, standing in front of a dead man, my hands and face smeared with blood. My clothes were tattered and I had only my jeans still wearable. Yet, they were also stained with blood and that was a stain that would not come out.
    Even if it would, I would never wear these again.
    It’s a path that all young werewolves travel down (males specifically) and we are taught how to defend our pack by either sinking or swimming. I had swum beautifully and yet when I reached the shore of my growth this fall, I was sick. There was satisfaction in what I had done but it was minute and short in coming. I could feel the presence of pack and my mother was the first to leave the trees. She was changed back but her eyes were still feral, her hands reaching my shoulders.
    Even among my own horror, I had to wonder how it felt for her to send her son out to yield to his second nature and become a killer. Her lips pressed to my thick hair and I knew in the surrounding trees the others waited and had watched. I couldn’t cry and I did not dare whine for that was a sign of weakness that would come back at me later when Lucek was old enough to take on the fur and perhaps challenge me.
    I just took comfort in the fact that tonight I could not deny what was really true.
    The man before me was not human and neither was I. This wasn’t something I had done to impress a girl, it was a task I had completed to remind myself of what I was.

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