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Private Running wth the Werewolves

Discussion in 'The Woods' started by Zora, Oct 21, 2018.

  1. Zora
    Zora

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    Moving through the forest at a dead run, jumping over rocks, dead logs and fallen branches, skirting around trees, bolting through low bushes and leaping on a small stream, the greyish brindle coloured wolf raced through the woods enjoying the late afternoon, discovering the island that he had recently decided to call home. Slowly his pace, Malakias shifted from his wolf form to his human form, becoming fully clothed in the process, and took a deep breath of the air around him. God the island smelled good, he thought with a contented sigh.

    Things, since Rada and him arrived on Manta Carlos, had been tense, too tense. His sister was on the verge of driving him crazy. He got it that she was unhappy, and hated living with him, but it wasn't like he lived a charmed life either - especially when she reminded him daily of how much of an ass he was or complained about whatever she had a gripe with that day. Shaking his head, Malakias walked slowly along a path lost in thought and not really paying attention, or much attention to anything around him.

    @Boop
     
  2. Boop
    Boop

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    The forest had always been a refugee for Cikňi, a place to get away from the bullying, the slums of his home, to try and relax as much as possible. It wasn't easy with his hyperalertness, which only seemed to have worsened after he became - whatever he was - a werewolf, they said, but he was no wolf.

    Even in the woods, the slightest noises had him about to jump out of his skin. Still, it was less stifling than the hospital, a lot less crowded than the school, where he was still shifting at least a couple times a day from fear, flinching whenever people came near.

    Cikňi hated this vulnerability. He was not shifted right now though. That was a relief. Even without the pain, being a tiny squeaking rodent was not something he really wanted. He took some deep breaths, trying to relax. The forest smelt so - werewolf!

    As a light breeze brought Cikňi the other werewolf's scent, his entire body went rigid. That was - was that? Already he felt the pain of an impending shift. Trying not to fall. Had to protect himself - get away - stop that one. That familiar smell. A warning hissing snarl escaped his lips, eyes darting wildly.
     
  3. Zora
    Zora

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    Stopping quite suddenly in his tracks, Malakias smelled the oddly familiar smell before he heard the noise, the low sounding snarl of warning. Feeling the hairs instinctively go up at the back of his neck, the man glanced around him, listening now, alert for any sign of movement.

    He didn't know the forest that well, rumours of creatures, dangerously odd and sometimes alluring in nature crossed his mind. These things he had been made aware of when he settled into the island. But as he stood there, Malakias noticed the scent more and more, it was familiar, extremely familiar - Volkov and something else long forgotten...At first, he may have almost thought it was another pack member, but a mental scan, a shout out, afforded him nothing.

    "Who goes there?" he asked the forest, his voice low, calm and slighty accented, Russian upper class in nature.
     
  4. Boop
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    The Russian accent did nothing to calm Cikňi's mounting panic. The male voice, the accent, the familiar scent, werewolf scent. Cikňi didn't know what had happened to that man, the bad man. He had been repeatedly reassured the werewolf was not able to get him here, but he'd just woken up in a hospital in another strange country, and he still dreamed nightmares, flashes, not sure he'd awoken.

    Whimpering out a Romani prayer, Cikňi dropped lower to the ground as the pain of shifting fully hit. He was too aware of his vulnerability, but he couldn't stop. Five minutes seemed like eternity - he hoped the man had no silver.

    Because right now he couldn't move to flee or fight, was just trying desperately to remain hidden, small in the undergrowth, hating each pained squeak that gave him away.
     
  5. Zora
    Zora

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    "What, who...?" Malakias said as he whirled around, looking for the source of the new sounds. It sounded as if someone was hurt, or in pain. And it sounded like they were coming from the bushes.

    Frowning now, confused, he realised that it must be a small animal of sorts. Something that could hide itself in the underbrush. Although, that didn't quite make sense either, because whatever it was, smelled like a werewolf. And, Malakias was sure that a werewolf could not hide so easily in a bush... unless, it were a child? And this thought, this odd occurrence, left him feeling even more confused.

    Deciding to investigate, Malakias slowly parted the undergrowth and as he did, he revealed a small trembling animal, a weasel, which was clearly in pain, or if not in pain, clearly fearful of him. Surprised at this, Malakias stared at him, her? "Are you okay?" he asked hesitantly, not sure what the creature was. He looked like a weasel, ferret maybe, but he smelled like a Volkov werewolf.
     
  6. Boop
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    Luckily, the delay while the other werewolf searched gave Cikňi enough time to be mostly shifted, just a moment more and he was able to stand. He drew himself up as much as possible, a full three feet of skin, scars, and fluff. Hardly intimidating when he reeked of fear. But the spikes that were Cikňi's arms might be enough to give pause. Especially considering where on the man would make the easiest target.

    Cikňi stared up at the werewolf. The smell and accent were fogging his mind with panic. Enough that the fact this man was not his attacker wasn't getting through. He smelt the same. Cikňi squeaked and hissed with aggressive terror, unable to make his weasel mouth form intelligible words under the stress, most of what he did manage was Romani anyway, "No no no no!"

    But he wasn't running. He had to hurt this man before the man could hurt him. He took two trembling steps forward, arm spikes raised, uncoiling his magic tail. If he couldn't fight, he could at least make the man feel his fear.
     
  7. Zora
    Zora

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    Malakias swore profusely and in Russian when he saw the young wereweasel appear suddenly from the low bushes. The very apparent fact that he smelt like a werewolf, gone from his mind as he took in the roughed up appearance of the little guy. Malakias took in the scars, his fur, his gaze moving along his body to his arms .. which weren't normal arms but spikes. Stepping back, Malakias put his hands out in front of himself, the universal sign that he should calm down that he meant no harm.

    "Hey.. It's okay...I won't harm you," he said very calmly, keeping his eye on him, wondering if he understood him, and if it weren't just better to turn back into his wolf form. Then again, that might make things worse, Malakias could smell the fear getting stronger and was at the point he just wanted to calm the young werewolf weasel down.
     
  8. Boop
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    When he heard the Russian swearing, the large man towering over his little weasel form, Cikňi's nerve broke. He swiped out at the other werewolf with a spike that was not close enough to even graze him, then turned and bolted.

    As agile as the weasel was, he was still not overly fast. And the spikes meant he couldn't comfortably run on all fours, instead having to crouch and scamper along on two legs. He wasn't thinking much either, in a full on panic, until he found himself out of breath, up against a tree.

    His tail lashed out behind him, but he wasn't directing it. It would be easy enough to avoid tripping into the glowing blue. He didn't think of using his screech either. That ability generally only worsened things anyway.
     
  9. Zora
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    "Wh-what the hell?! Hey..." Malakias shouted, more in surprise than in anger when the wereweasel suddenly lashed out at him before taking off almost awkwardly, scampering away into the woods.

    Shaking his head, still not sure why the boy was so fearful of him, Malakias jumped forward, and turned into a large greyish wolf. Then he followed slowly behind, keeping his scent as he tracked the boy, snuffling the ground every so often, not that Malakias really needed to. The younger wolf's scent was almost overwhelming at the moment.

    Spotting him finally, Malakias ambled slowly up the wooded path to where he was, stopping a few meters away, and then turned around twice, before sitting down, four paws on the ground as he stared at the boy. Cocking his head to the side, no fear in his gaze as the wolf stared at him, but also in a dog-like stance of non-threateningness.

    Then, Malakias barked at the boy, it was more a yip... a friendly sound, followed by a whine. "Do you understand me, young one?" Malakias tried to reach out mentally, not sure if he could make a link or not.
     
  10. Boop
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    The smell, the accent still reminded Cikňi of the one who had hurt him. And he literally couldn't calm himself down. He could feel the panic chipping away at him, his heart racing. But - it wasn't the wolf that scared him. He'd never even seen the bad man's wolf form that he could remember, except when he was bitten, it was always the human form that used him.

    So when he saw a wolf instead of a man, it got him to stop. Still terrified, and stinking of it as he always did, the weasel faced down the large animal, trying to breathe as deep as he could with that werewolf scent making him want to scream.

    When the wolf barked, Cikňi backed farther up against the tree with a squeak, raising his arms again. Then there was something in his head. He startled at the voice, squeaking some more, too startled to try talking, and unsure if he could think back. "Hear." with a nod, was all the boy could manage, between a lot of weasel noises and indecipherable sounds. At least he'd stopped running away.
     


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