With Tooth and Claw {IC}

[May]

The Pack

Rebeca bit back a bit of a squeal at his pinching. It wasn't something that most men did, pinching the inside of her thigh like that. And even if it was, she wasn't expecting him to do that just then. She squirmed more on his lap, shifting her back to his chest. "I do see that you're not though," she laughed, pushing his hands down her legs while trying to pull her dress down some as well.

She looked over her shoulder at him again, her blue eyes twinkling with the amusement of it all. "I do think you've settled in just fine then," she teased, ignoring growls from further down the table as a few fought over something or another for a second. "Though if you do need some help, I am more than willing to pitch in where needed." She then stuck her tongue out like a child, chuckling more at the way her words had sounded in her head at least.

Finally she reached forward, not going for food but reaching for the pitcher of whatever it was on the table that was just out of her reach. Almost on purpose. "Thirsty?" she asked as she poured herself something, though the tone of her voice implied something more than just the koolaid she was pouring.

The Society

Elena looked up as the new comer came in, blinking some as she looked him over. What wonderful timing he had to show up when they were just talking about him. In a round about way at least. She'd heard talk of bringing someone in. Someone with more expertise then what they had at their office. A werewolf would surely be that expertise. She could sense it coming off of him. He had that sort of look to her. But she'd seen a quite a few wolves in her time, so she had experience.

The way he looked at Karin and found talking hard amused her more than anything else did. She had to chew on her lip rather hard to keep her laughter in check, watching Karin get flustered and confused as well. She was a fish out of water just now. But she needed this sort of experience. Her mother would insist. And this way, it wasn't someone her mother threw at her either.

"What do you say Karin?" she asked finally tearing her eyes away from, Mark, right? Yeah sure. "You want to stay with him while I go find out where they want him, or you wanna go do that?" The look on her face implied that Karin didn't really have a choice as she was already slipping off the desk and starting to back away some.

[Raid]

THE SOCIETY:AZMAIRE YARAH

She stood at the counter, staring at the barista. “The normal, please,” she murmured, her voice low and husky.

“I’m sorry,” the girl blathered. “I’m new here, and I don’t know—“

“Zee!” called a man. “You’re late, today. I was getting worried!”

“The normal, please,” she repeated, her face passive.

“Got it right here for you.” The man passed a tray of four hot drinks to her. The woman paid, nodded thanks, and left.

In her wake a very befuddled barista barraged her coworker with questions: “Was that a man or a woman?”

“You know, I still don’t know,” he laughed, getting started on the next order. “But I’m pretty sure I saw cleavage, so I’m going with “she” today.”

“How long has…she’d been coming here?”

“Hm,” he teased. “A little less than three years?”

“She acted like she didn’t know you!”

“I think you’d have some trouble remembering a few things if you had a scar like hers, too.”

They both looked towards the large widows where they could still see their previous customer standing, using her cell phone. She wore fashionable, square sun glasses to set off her masculine features. She must have worked in an office nearby because she wore professional black slacks, heels, and a sleeveless snake skin blouse (making her look positively exotic). Her scar, though, was repulsive and disgusting. The bitter flavor of pity seeped onto the barista’s tongue.

“What’s ‘the normal’?”

The man laughed. “Oh, no you don’t. She’s my customer. Go find your own!”

Azmarie flicked through her reminders on her phone, checking off her latest accomplishment, “2:30—Crash: two black coffees, a mocha with soy, and Chai tea.” Her next one said, “3:10—deliver two black coffees, a mocha with soy. Enjoy Chai tea.” Nodding, she strutted down the street to her work. A few moments later, she stared at a store front with a poster of a woman plastered over it. That woman was her. Though, she didn’t feel like the strong, smiling woman was her. Today was a bad day for her. Her head. It couldn’t be attached to her neck. It felt like she was dribbling it down the sidewalk. Did she know how to dribble? No, she never had the best hand eye coordination. That’s why she ran. Despite her aching head, she just wanted to run today. Run and never stop because then maybe she could run away…run away from what?

Azmarie was in front of the building, now. There was no running away. She passed security with ease, her badge indicated her clearance. She handed off the mocha with soy to the current guard. Whether or not he was the guard who was there every day, or if he really liked mocha with soy, he made no indication. He just smiled. She took the elevator half way to her floor, and then walked the rest. It helped fight the urge to sprint. The stairwell echoed. It was empty. Azmarie wasn’t sure if she liked that or not. It felt like her head. It felt like her heart. She reached the door just before she lost herself any further. The heavy, fire proof steel was cold. It grounded her to the present. She needed to deliver the two coffees. She wanted to enjoy her cup of Chai.

Her sunglasses swung between her fingers. A few people greeted her. Azmaire glanced at them and tried to smile, but it was more of a curious upturn on one side of her face that seemed to ask, “How in the world do you know me because you seem awfully familiar?” She walked the maze cubicles and file cabinets until she honed in on the finish line. A short woman blocked it. Azmarie might be tall, but that woman was defiantly short. She felt a light, bubbly feeling in her chest. She wanted to laugh. She didn’t. She knew that woman. Had seen her too often not to have, but like most faces a name failed to sort itself in her head. So she settled with “R.B” for “Red Bun.” That’s what Doc, her psychiatrist, taught her to do. “If you can’t remember their name, make up your own. People probably won’t even notice.” She wondered if he noticed she couldn’t remember his?

She saw a man. She didn’t know that man. And she didn’t mean it in the way that she did with the rest of the people who worked here. She meant it in the way that she did not know that man. He was a stranger. Azmarie didn’t work well with strangers. Her phone vibrated. It was her alarm to deliver the first coffee. She was delivering the coffee to a woman. A woman with a horn, ears on animals she’s only seen when running trails, and scales. That still made her a woman, right? Azmarie knew her name. It started with a “K.” She thought it amazing she remembered that much, so she enjoyed calling the woman “Kay.” She wasn’t sure if the woman liked being called that though. Kay liked coffee, though, which is why she got one at 3:10, Monday through Friday.

But it would be late today, because it seemed as if two people were in the way. So she hovered just beyond the desk area. Her eyes shifting around while waiting to be acknowledged. The rest of her body was frozen like the cat on the wall with the clock on its belly. It was 3:12.

[Fallenreaper]

Society, Karin

His words, distinctive suggestive and unintentional, reddened her blush while spreading warmth into her body at the awkwardness. Karin was not use to this in the least. Mark was strange, unfamiliar and it made her scared despite how handsome he looked in the back of her mind. Her lips just couldn’t move right. Stuck in biting nervously and ear pulled back to with a slight trembling to them, even her hands had distracted themselves by wrangling themselves in a ball just in front. Her long ox tail swished out of her pencil skirt, grazing the side of her smooth thighs on the right then the left.

Feeling a wave of cool every time Mark looked away, making her emotions settle even for a fraction of a second before sky rocketing again when his vision brushed over a part of her. Heart jumped in her throat beating away like a hammer giving no rest. Elena offered no help as she ate her lip in her attempts to stifle her laughter, clear by the white of the pressure against her teeth.

The moment Elena spoke, Karin knew she was doomed as her words stuttered,” I-I-I…”

Her wide eyes turned to Mark, noting him there as it seemed for the first before her body shrank in on itself. Her words died on her lips while her ears flickered nervously. Karin wasn’t sure what Elena was doing, the Russian phoenix knew she was shy around new especially guys! The little woman had already begun moving sliding from the desk top and backing away. She was leaving already. Alone. With a stranger. Even worse a male. The deer like woman found her unable to stop Elena’s departure, unable to convince her to stay while not having the courage to speak up-at least in front of Mark. It was nothing against Mark, it was just she was terrified of making a fool out of herself and truth be told, she wasn’t sure how one should act in his presence.

Her dark eyes shifted taking in his timid form, grazing along his face to make out the wild and messy beard. Stunning blue eyes, his body looked like toned at least she guessed from beneath the baggy clothes and he stood just as nervous as she did. Truthfully they seemed to be a match for one another. Their discomfort showed very well on their bodies, Karin’s vision still snatched glimpses of him failing not to stare. Her thoughts, jittery and chaotic, were interrupted by a sound of walking feet made her ears shift catching the familiar woman named Azmarie. She always came around this time like clockwork for the last three years so it little surprise Karin knew her steps anywhere, grown very accustomed to them while her fingers click calcked away at the keyboard. Her head looked about.

Her lips drew into a smile but the nervousness was still there, her voice stronger and less stuttering Karin spoke,” Hello Azmarie. Thank you for the coffee.”

She enjoyed it whenever Azmarie dropped off her coffee, not sure what happened to the woman as it seemed some terrible, almost mistaking her for a man at first until Karin looked down at the tag and corrected it. Azmarie wore a tag the first day she worked here and that alone made her a female in Karin’s mind. So far Karin hadn’t been corrected and even accepting the name “Kay” to make it easier, it didn’t bother her at all. It was clear Azmarie didn’t seem to be mentally all there but for some funny reason, it made her more eased to know that sometimes. To know she didn’t judge the kirin or think little of her, the timing couldn’t have been better at this moment.

Karin turned her head to, pleading in her eyes clear she was terrified, spot the runner behind Mark. Reaching pass Mark with her focus on Azmarie, she forgot to grip a hold of her twitching tail that shifted, sending a uncheck slap somewhere across his leg. Karin dared not think where even as fresh heat cooked her cheeks, betraying her guess against her own desire and wondering if he had moved. Great Buddha she hoped he did. It was black coffee, Karin loved coffee and for the sake of making it easier on Azmarie, she never ordered it any other way. It easier to put her own creamer into anyway then have the order be wrong, making someone correct it. A thought occured to her, maybe it was possible...

“Azmarie…would you mind drinking with me today? I mean...coffee, having our drinks together. Please…,” Karin’s own insecurities were sabotaging herself again as her hands cupped about the Styrofoam cup before struggling to speak, knowing her mother wouldn’t have her being rude,” T-t-this is Azmarie and t-this is….Mark.”

Her head turned away quickly as her body edged closer to Azmarie, hoping she didn’t make the delivery woman too uncomfortable.

[tirgesfu]

The Pack - Jory


“Help?” Jory watched Rebeca’s hand move his own from high on her leg. She tugged at her skirt and wiggled in his lap. He could feel heat. From inside his temperature turned up a notch. As she shifted in his lap and turned so her back was against his chest he let his face fall a bit into her hair.

“I need help.” He snickered as she leaned away from him and toward the table. “If you are offering I can find all kinds of ways I need help. All sorts of ways in pitch in.” She started with the drink pouring a glass of something that didn’t look like it would quench his thirst at all. She knew it. She could tell. Even still she asked. He looked from the glass to her face and grinned to her question if he was thirsty. “Always.” He answered. He took the offered glass from her hand and took a sip. Then he raised the same glass to her lips and tilted it just a bit for her to catch the taste. They were sharing after all. He purposely let a little spill out the side and drip down her chin. He watched the drop as it fell.

As the food spread out around the table Jory reached for a piece of brisket, not bothering at all with the buns or barbeque sauce placed beside it. He held it between his finger up to Rebeca’s mouth. “But I can help too. Really. I have…” he paused as he waited for her to rip a piece of meat from his hands. “skills. I have abilities.”

He let his fingers slip around the corners of her mouth and linger on her lips before he reached again for a piece of his own. He put the next piece in his mouth. As he chewed he found another and this time dipped it into the sauce before he fed it to Rebeca.

“So tell me, hot one, what is your place in this pack? Are you the welcoming one? Or do you just sniff them out for your lead male?”

[Lyzan]

Society
Mark Szilinski

With his attention occasionally shifting back and forth between the interior designs to the women before him, Mark listened to what was being said by Elena. He couldn't help but assumed that there's a hidden message within those words. And that Mark was the subject. He suddenly went to check his grooming. Hands pulling at his scuffs as they took turn in hugging the briefcase. Eyes darted to the glass and using the shadow of his reflection to look at his hair. A hand reached up and combed the messy flock back. Then he reached for his collar and adjusted it again. He even took a glimpse to the fly, the zipper on his pants. Checking that the thing remained up north instead of down south.

He eyed Elena as she backed away from them. Something tugged at his mind then, giving him the sense that he might've forgotten something. But exactly what it was he couldn't remember. The albino man almost jumped as another man... or woman approached them. A higher ranked officer, he thought. So he brought himself at attention. Staring straight and high towards the far ceiling. Unmoving. However, the tension then dropped after hearing the casual exchange of speech made by Karin, the owner to the bobbing ....thing earlier.

That was when Karin made her move. Mark's eyes strayed away from her figures. Not wanting to get an accusation for being a pervert for his first day here. A sudden knock over the bulge of his pants almost made him whelped. Knees came knocking together, feet shuffling back and his buttocks pulled back as his face cramped in an awkward shaky smile. The knock might've been a light tap. But to a man, such an impact on the unmentionable was an agonizing feat to bear. He held his breath as his ears perked. Mark maintained the comical posture. He turned to face them both and managed a quick wave with one hand.

"HI!" exclaimed Mark. "Niiceee to meeet... youuu..." he struggled between held breath.

Fooo!

Mark suddenly exhaled and bent over, bringing both his hands to rest on his knees as he breathed in and out like a woman in labor. The briefcase thudded over the floor and papers scattered. He threw his head back and straightened himself to pace in a circle with one hand tugging at the pants between his legs.

Ah..

Finally relieved, Mark got down on his fours and started to pick the papers up. Oblivious to the reaction of the two women at present. Then he spotted that transfer paper from his branch. It was what he'd forgotten to give Elena. With a smile on his face, he got to his feet but his eyes widened as he stared into Karin's pair of eyes during his rise. He found himself standing mere inches from the woman who was supposed to guide him to his desk. The man blinked and he almost lost the clutch of his briefcase and the papers in his other hand.

"Umm..." again he stuttered. "This is the p..p.. paper... st..st.. stating that I'm assigned here... And... and.. that I should get my... personal ass... desk!.. Personal desk.." he swallowed. "..in an enclosed room.. so that I... I.. I could work on myself.. I mean.. By myself.." said Mark with trembling outstretched hand as he took a step back.

His eyes then held Azmarie's and he nodded in acknowledgement.

"Hi.. I..I...I'm pleased to meet you, sir... ma'am... miss..." Mark then stared at the ground and pushed in his spectacle with his free hand once Karin have taken the paper.

[Raid]

THE SOCIETY:AZMAIRE YARAH

Social cues are some of the most difficult thing to handle. They vary by each person and are interpreted differently by each person. Thus, Azmarie’s perception of such subtle actions struggles to even exist. (“It’s a work in-progress,” her psychiatrist asserts in her file.) The following situation goes less than ideally for the awkward couple. Any person with a brain in their head would notice the obvious and…bulging interest the new co-workers shared. Azmarie lost a piece of hers in the woods, though. So, dear Karin’s insecurities flip into fear. Of what? The man. Oh! She said his name. What was his name? It seems as if she said something else, begging for something. Why were her eyes so big and watery like that? It reminded Az of Hershey when he wanted scraps from the table.

Kay didn’t want scraps from the table; she wasn’t a dog. Az pinned her as a deer. And the man? He looked like a donkey right now, a hawing ass. Would that be an appropriate nickname for him? Even Azmarie’s discombobulated subconscious whispered, “No.” If he wasn’t trying to impersonate an ass, than what was Don up to? His strange, hesitant behavior made her scar itch—bad. She decided if this man acted like a donkey, scared Kay, and successfully referred to her by every gender title in one breath, she wasn’t going to bring him any coffee. Her heavy, brown eyes weighed the taller man before her. She didn’t like he was taller. It was another reason why she shouldn’t (and wouldn’t) bring him any afternoon coffee.

Also, why was he so close to Kay? She moved away from him. An instinctual understanding that if you didn’t like something you ran away from him echoed in her misty mind. She knew about running away. She knew about running away… and it wasn’t right how close he was to Kay. Azmarie squeezed her body between the two parties, took the proffered paperwork and handed it off to Kay. Her eyebrow twitched. She raised her eyebrow. Contempt washed over her face. An inexplicable urge to protect Kay surged through her. Emotions. Feelings. Expressions. Her face, a blank canvas, was blotched with spattering of Anger and Confusion. Angry at his actions. Confused at her own.

“I think that sounds like a good idea, honey,” Azmarie rumbled with clarity. Why did she call Kay “honey”? “But I don’t have anything for Don.” Her lips pouted slightly. Was it obviously mocking? Or was she really pouting because she wouldn’t deliver her coffee on time? “Mark expects his afternoon pick-me-up, too.”

Of course, Mark being the leader, head, and few people she remembers the name of. He was not to ass standing too close to her, their hips almost touching. She did not want a man anywhere near her hips. Not an ass-man like him, anyways. Maybe he was attractive? Maybe he wasn’t? She thought he could do with a good dose of vitamin D. It didn’t matter. Kay sought her out. Kay was scared. Kay talked to Az. Azmarie would protect Kay from this ass.

“Maybe we should wait to enjoy it until he’s gone.” Ouch. That even hurt her. Not really. Why was she acting like this again. She went between looking over Don's shoulder and looking into his eyes. Confusion and Anger switching places like partners in a dance.

[Fallenreaper]

Society, Karin

Karin’s eyes widened, realizing from his posture that her tail had hit him dead aim into the thing her mother called a man’s sword! Oh no. Great Buddha help me…her body froze, stiffened with fear and guilt while he looked stiff as she was. His voice seemed to be risen a few octaves or maybe that her impression from his look. Looking like a cartoon character hit by a hammer and fighting not to show how much it hurt, he had spoken between trying to keep his voice at reasonable level and not screaming. He made her think of a wooden board.

Her eyes narrowed with her ears pinned back, her teeth once more bit against her lip. The crash of his briefcase made her shoulders flinch and nearly plopped coffee on herself, Karin’s eyes tried to follow the papers that fluttered. Tired being the key word as her vision failed to do as her mind wanted, rising up to stare absentmindedly at him tugging his…pants. Saucers were the size of her eyes while he circled, struggling to relieve his pain before he bent to recapture the papers. The heated liquid still in her hand, Karin felt a paper prop against her foot and instinctively leaned at the waist to scoop it up one handed.

Her head tilted up, meeting his forcing a meek nervous smile to her lips at meeting his sparking blue eyes. Karin found his eyes for some reason not so scary as much as they were entrancing while in that moment her body taking its time pulling up and flutter of her heart danced across her chest before her gaze. Her eyes on the other hand refused to listen hold fast to his, his position just inches from hers. Thankful he hadn’t seen up her skirt in his position with her legs together or she might have popped into deer mode to run away. Then Azmarie thankfully stepped in between, Karin shook her head lightly snapping out her sprouting fantasies that seemed to come stronger then she wanted it.

Karin felt herself relax as Azmarie handed her the paper, sensing she was uncomfortable while the kirin took it easily. Her eyes graze across the black lettering stating that he was going to work in the department for a bit and her eyes stopped. The desk number, twice she ran over and still couldn’t believe it. She knew that desk number as her main job was to secretary after the woman behind it! At least it was. A few weeks ago there was mention that she gotten in to a skiing accident and would likely be hospitalize for a few weeks but that was only a week ago. Strange it hadn’t been very long and someone new was already moving into her old boss’s desk. Karin felt all the color drain from her face in that moment, partly because she didn’t know him and the other was her earlier romantic notions raising up again.

It took several moments to realize that Azmarie usually blank face molded shifted into a different expression. Did she cause this? Karin thought for a moment she had done something very terrible and was on the verge of apologizing before Azmarie’s words caused her words to stick in her throat. What, honey?!? Her own mother would have keeled over in a new grave if she suspected Karin’s sexual tendencies being towards woman instead of the “proper” gender. This was a first for her as well, realizing Azmarie’s preference for the first time and eyes got wider before she realized she was now staring up at her friend instead of face level. Karin hadn’t noticed her skin dull farther into a purer blue, scales trail down her back and body and finally her clothes melt into her form. The change had happen rather spontaneously and unexpectedly, thankful most of her clothes were made from all natural fibers save for the dress jacket which was standing at her thin narrow feet. Her coffee on the other hand had shifted to her mouth which gapped wide open at the rest of Azmarie’s offer, both happy to avoid Mark-partly anyway- and shocked at her hints of how. Hot liquid spilt over the carpet from the falling cup, splashing on her forelegs making her cringe in pain while her mouth let out a little cry. It stained her jacket that now got tangled up in her legs with surprising ease. Her body fell forward coming to a halt before slapping her face on the floor and though the burning sensation of the liquid was hurting, Karin’s mouth was feverishly apologizing.

“I'm sorry. I didn’t…w-when you said honey..I wasn't expecting, I…I didn’t mean to spill it. I'm so sorry,” Karin was staring up with a guilty expression before she took a deep breath.

“Yes…I would like that very much but I have to show Mark or as you nick named him, Don, to his new desk. He got the desk I work for mainly according to the letter you handed me…,” Karin’s ears pulled back and downward with her front half leaned over the coffee spill, her deer knees rubbed into the rough carpet.

[May]

The Pack
Rebeca

Rebeca smiled at his words. Of course he needed help. She'd only offered, after all. And there was no way that he was going to turn that down. There were very few who did, if she was going toot her own horn. Which she didn't like to do. But really, how could someone in his position turn her down? She wouldn't have been hurt if he had, but she could feel very well that she wasn't going to be left hanging with an offer he didn't want. Because he wanted it. That she knew well.

She didn't really get a chance to reply to what he had to say, just let him feed her and treat her like a child for a moment. She didn't mind. It had been a while since someone had let her not act like the mommy, and she appreciated that. So she let him go on doing what he was doing, feeding her some very well cooked meat and sharing the drink she'd poured for them. She could feel eyes on them, eyes of one man in particular, but she didn't look back. She knew what she would see, and that would only draw out more tension than needed to be in the air right now. There was more than enough of that to go around on its own, there didn't need to be more.

"Hot one?" she echoed, chuckling and looking mildly surprised. The last she looked in the mirror, she still looked almost thirty. And he was so young. For him to call her hot was a little surprising even if she could feel that he had those 'skills' to help her out with anything. "I'm not a spy if that's what you're getting at," she went on, licking the lingering sauce from off her lips. "But unless you say not to tell, I'm not going to hide anything from him either.

"So I guess that makes me the welcoming one," she chuckled again, taking the glass from his hand to drink on her own. "Darius may be a lot of things to me, but I am not just his errand girl."

[Noa Noah]

The Order –Knights of Unity–
Henri Molay

The silver moon hovered high in the black speckled sky, watching the world silently and aloof. The sun light that bounced off its lunar surface illuminated the land dimly, as if to shed light to the story that played out in the thick dark woods. A man – wrapped in nothing but dirty ripped cloth that once were called clothes– raced through the trees, making every attempt to speed up when he could. His rugged appearance was not too far from how he, and many of his kind, looked on a daily basis, but it was apparent that his current situation was not the ordinary ordeal: he was a predator being hunted. The man was covered in dirt, leaves, twigs, sweat, cuts, bruises, and blood; much of the red not being his own. He didn’t care if he stepped on a sharp rock or if the trees slashed at him with their unforgiving limbs: he knew that “they” would do worse.

The man just ran. Ran as fast as his legs could, too scared to inspect his surroundings. He needed to get as far away as he could from this forest. He cursed himself, regretting everything that had happened to him thus far. He didn’t want to die.

I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die.

The man repeated to himself like prayer; a prayer chanted out like an SOS signal, waiting for someone… anybody to listen and save him from this nightmare. Oh if it were only just a nightmare. Just as that thought passed through his mind, the man caught something at the corner of his eye. Fear jumped sky high, sending the man into a panic. Did “they” catch up already? Impossible: “they” were mortals. The man attempted to break his limit and run faster, but the white figure slipped passed the trees like a snake with grace and never declining speed blessed by the wind. Dread began to slow the man’s legs down. There was no way he could out run that thing. This simple fact, however, uncovered a possibility. The man moved his gaze up to the sky where the moon’s half covered face stared right back at him. As he swallowed nothing, the man collected all the courage left inside of himself to finally turn his head to the white figure’s direction…and was soon relieved that he did.

It was a wolf.

As it slithered its way between the trees, the wind combed it’s lightly colored gray fur while the moonlight bathed the figure with so much attention that the fur shined platinum silver. It was a sight to see. The man felt himself relax and his body remembered how to breathe from his nose. He smelled everything, especially the blood on himself, but he did his best to ignore it and sniffed the air around him. When he caught the scent of the wolf, he believed someone did hear his prayers: it was not only a wolf, but a lycan. He had never seen a lycan turn into a wolf at will, regardless of the moon, but he had heard that there were such kinds. The man, at least, was still new to the lycan life so was completely under the mercy of the moon’s cycle.

The man, a lycan, never seen or smelled this specific wolf before, so he knew very well that she –yes, a she– was not part of his pack. With the level of fear that he was suffering not long ago, the lycan had no sense of time so he had no idea how long he was running in the woods. It was possible that he had wondered into another pack’s territory. He felt himself smile as he was ready to call out to his comrade far out in the distance. What he did not realize was that she was not that far away from him as he initially believed, in fact, her silver claws were just an inch away from him after he took his chance at blinking. Next thing he knew, the man hit the bark of a tree so hard that he felt the air get knocked out of his lungs and it took awhile to realize that the pain on his shoulder was caused by the wolf taking a huge bite out of it.

The lycan howled in pain before kicking the wolf off of him and scrambled to his feet. The wolf, on the other hand, landed gracefully on to the ground and quickly jumped back at the man. Pure animal instinct as the only reason the lycan managed to doge the wolf’s attacks.

“W-wait! Stop!” The lycan held his hands up as a gesture implying that he had no intention of harming the wolf. “I’m not here to---…” The lycan ducked quickly when the wolf lunged herself at him and landed right behind him. “--- fight!” He twirled around just in time as the wolf made another attempt to attack him from the back. Taking a couple steps away from the wolf, the lycan continued, “Please, you have to listen to me! I’m sorry if I trespassed, but I didn’t have a choice!” The lycan’s eyes followed the wolf’s every movement as she slowly circled around him like a vulture. “My pack was attacked! Slaughtered! B-b-by these people! I-I don’t know where they came from, but they just started to kill us without any warning! They were all geared up! They had weapons made to kill our kind! It was like an army! When we realized we were outnumbered, we ran in all directions! I don’t know if anyone else survived, but it’s practically a miracle I managed to get this far! Please! These people are dangerous! If your pack is nearby we have to warn them! We have to run!”

An unnerving silence settled in between the lycan and the wolf. Though the lycan knew his heart was rapidly beating and his breathing was uneven, it seemed as though his ears had gone deaf. If he ever had the chance to get worried about his hearing, it came and went, just as he heard a cold voice behind him whisper, “No need to” followed by the firing of a gun. What the lycan felt next was just pain, far beyond anything he had ever experienced. It burned everything, consuming the muscles and nerves it surrounded. The bullet managed to miss the vital organs, but it did not change the truth that it still hurt. He dropped to the ground, holding the gunshot wound he tossed and turned on the cold ground. He was in no condition to notice a human figure emerge from the shadows of the trees. Which in itself made no sense: how could a mortal stay hidden so close by without the lycans smelling his presence?

As a lycan, the man should have healed, the pain should have at least numbed in a few moments if it was a normal bullet wound, yet nothing changed. The pain continued to subsist with the same intensity, which could mean only one thing: the bullet was made of silver.

“I still find is fascinating that silver seems to affect your kind the most,” the human in full tactical gear said as he approached the two lycans. The silver wolf stared at the human, but made no move to attack. She simply stood there, waiting. “It’s also a source of great anger… the fact that we must pay so much money just to make this kind of weapon. The idea of just wasting money on… beasts like you… just…. Just!” The figure stopped a few feet away from the lycan –who was still crying from the pain– and seemed to sigh. “Don’t make such a fuss; I didn’t hit anywhere vital…yet.”

The figure paused for a moment, placing a finger to an ear piece that was cleverly hidden. The lycan knew that this person was getting in contact with his team and that could only bring trouble. He needed to run awhile he still had the chance. Luckily the other lycan had not been hurt. Now with evidence of the threat, the wolf could not possibly ignore him n---…

“Silverclaw,” the human said in an authoritative tone.

Despair hit the lycan like a ton of bricks when the silver wolf responded with a “Yes Sir”.

“Team A has given us an all clear. We’re going to take this one in.”
“Yes sir.”

The human nodded and responded back to the call with orders the man did not have the time to listen to. Far in the distance he could see similar soldiers heading in their direction. This was truly his last chance: now or never. The wounded lycan gritted his teeth tightly and prepared himself for a sprint. However, when he did take the first step for the run, his legs were shot with silver bullets. “Tsk tsk,” the lycan could hear the figure say after he had screamed his lungs out once again. “Did I not just say that it makes me mad to waste money on your kind? Why are you making me waste my bullets?” With his men surrounding them, the human finally decided to take off his mask and head gear, revealing a ghostly face with slicked back blonde hair and unforgiving ice blue eyes. The lycan unconsciously nicked named the soldier, Iceman. In addition, he also noticed that he could finally smell the human. Whatever the tactical suit was made of made it difficult to smell what was inside of it.

“Then again,” Iceman grinned as he stomped his feet against the lycan’s neck, “I suppose it’s worth the money to see you wither in pain. Definitely a better use of money than what the government wastes its resources on some other worthless organization… but that’s the least of your worries from how I see it.”

When Iceman chuckled it felt as though Death was knocking on the lycan’s door. He was dead now. If Iceman did not kill him now the lycan was going to be dead later. This enlightenment caused the lycan’s fear to subside and to awaken courage that he wished he had earlier. If he was going to die regardless, then he was not going to die as a coward. The lycan spat at Iceman and felt proud of himself when he saw Iceman’s face twitch.

Very slowly Iceman’s lips stretched and parted to create a grin, then he laughed out loud, scaring some of his own in the back. “Oh,” Iceman began as he leaned his head down closer to the lycan below him, “I’ll enjoy breaking you.” They held each other’s glares while two soldiers came close by. The staring contest lasted only for a few seconds, ending with Iceman spitting back at the lycan and letting the two soldiers handle the supernatural. “Take him away,” Iceman ordered before turning his back on them and walked away.

Iceman did not turn around even when he heard his men letting out a surprised shout as they lost their grasp on the lycan. He sensed the unnatural charging at him like the beast it was, but felt no threat. Iceman felt something vibrate in his pouch and fished out a cell phone. Just as he picked up his phone and answered his caller, a storm of bullets showered onto the lycan.

When the ruckus did not stop, Iceman finally turned around, “Children!” The group of soldiers that were surrounding the remnants of the lycan ceased fire and looked up at their commander. Iceman placed his pointer finger above his lips and whispered, “Ssssh. I’m on the phone.” The soldiers stood at attention and saluted Iceman as he proceeded to walk off with Silverclaw following right behind him.

“Excuse me Counselor, the boys were getting a little carried away. Please continue.” As Iceman walked back to where the, now exterminated, pack’s campsite was at, he gave out orders with hand signals while reporting to his superior how well the “cleansing” had gone. “Yes sir. Thank you sir.” Iceman looked down at the body of a pregnant woman -no do doubt decided that her werewolf lover was worth the risk of bearing his child- and kicked it to the side as if it was trash blocking his way, “We will be back once we have cleaned this area… Ahaha. Yes, I am sure all the Environmental NGOs would come in mobs if we don’t clean this place up... Yes sir… Good night sir.” Iceman turned his phone off then called out to his soldiers on the intercom “Men. Head out.”

Whatever the soldiers were doing, they all stopped then began to head out of the forest, leaving the bloody battle field as it was. As the soldiers walked, Iceman searched for a number of specific soldiers then began calling their names when he spotted them.“Henri, Ralf.”

A young soldier with short brown hair and green eyes and another bigger man with longer wavy brown hair and amber eyes stopped in their tracks and looked up at their commander. Iceman motioned them to come with him, “With me.”


-----


Iceman, whose name was Volpi Weizman, stood quietly still in the darkness along side with Henri, Ralf, Silverclaw, and two other soldiers. Henri was not quite sure what Weizman was waiting for, but he kept his silence. Some hours passed and the sun was rising from the east when Henri noticed movement in the destroyed campsite. It was a small lycan child moving its way past the dead bodies, checking if there was any hope of its family being alive. The group watched the child patiently. It did not take long for the child to give up and wonder away from the campsite. When the group was sure that the lycan child was far away, Weizman gave orders.

“Silverclaw, Ralf. Track it down. Don’t get in contact with it unless I tell you to. Just follow it without being noticed. One of you report back if it takes you to another Pack or any other freak of nature.”

Silverclaw and Ralf nodded, “Yes sir.”
Weizman backhanded the air. “Go.” And the two lycans were gone.

Once the two vanished into the forest, Weizman looked at his two soldiers and pointed his chin in the direction the beasts had run off to. The soldiers nodded then headed towards another direction to get on a vehicle. There was no way Weizman would trust an unnatural, especially lycans. If Weizman had his way, he would have killed the two lycan weapons long ago, but that was not a decision he could make on his own. The best that Weizman could do was to wait until they give him an excuse to terminate them.

“Now then, seeing that there is obviously a survivor, we’ll need to double check this area again.” Weizeman said as he connected to the intercom. “Alright men. We found a survivor heading down south. Keep the south area open until you see our dogs leave the forest. They’re going to track the pup. Meanwhile there’s a possibility that there is a place to hide. I want this place checked and then double checked. Leave no stone unturned. The rest of you: it’s spring cleaning time. We have a lot of trash to dump out today.” Once he turned off the device, Weizeman turned his attention to Henri, “We’ll start searching this area first. Then when it turns,” he then checked the time on his wrist watch before turning back to Henri, “0800 we’ll head out to get you to your doctor’s appointment.”

For a moment Henri stared at his mentor, before finally asking the question, “Not to doubt your decision sir, but did you pick me to stay here with you so that I won’t miss my doctor’s appointment?”

“Of course not. I am absolutely positive that you missed your last three doctor’s appointment because you got lost on the way to the office. No, no, I completely trust you on that. I just wanted an excuse to get out of this place and get some doughnuts.”

“I may have bad memory sir, but I do remember your last health check results.”
“That is where I use my authoritative charisma and have you keep it a secret.”
“Oh now you’re power harassing me sir.”
“More along the lines of, I’ll tell everyone you missed your three doctor appointments because you didn’t want to take a shot.”
“Do not think I will not tell Dr. White about the doughnuts.”
“Are you black mailing me sir knight?”
“No, I was just thinking that it would be nice of you to pass by IHOP on the way.”

Weizeman and Henri stared at each other with a serious expression masking their faces, before breaking into a smile.

[Hymusia]

The Pack (only not really).
Luna.

She sat at a fountain in her beloved town centre, sure it was a small and quiet town in comparison to the large foreboding cities. However it was a nice place, where everyone knew each others names and treated one another with kindness, well, at least in her part of town. It was almost as if time itself had frozen the place. Cobble paths and traditional high beamed old buildings with the glorious carved architecture and here the fountain, a beautiful triumph of stone and pipes that culminated in a beautiful display of fresh spray that danced and glinted in the sunlight.

It was hard to think anything bad could ever happen here on days like this, it was hard to think the quiet little town harboured grudges and the darkest of monsters, the likes no fairytale had seen, lurked in the darkness waiting to snatch away unsuspecting girls. That that was what her father warned her, it was why she stayed locked up in her room on nights of the full moon, it was the safest place for her after all. One only had to close their eyes and they could feel it, a tug of electric under current that ran the length of the town, like an elastic band being pulled far to taut. Something was going to give and then, then there would be war.

Shaking her head and opening her eyes she sipped upon a bottle of water and gazed towards the library, she'd arrived early to return her books and was having to wait for their lunch break to be over. Currently she was studying the environment, biology and local wildlife, the woods where the 'strange men' were happened to be a favourite spot of hers for nature watching and generally unwinding after a hard day. Only the other evening had she found the most exquisite flower in amongst a bunch of dead tree roots, she'd sketched the scene to show her father but even he wasn't sure what the flower was called.

So here she was and she spotted Mrs. Simpkins as soon as she reached the doors, packing her water back into her shoulder bag and rearranging the books into her arms she made her way to the opening library. She was a pretty enough girl the old dears of the town would often say, but her appearance was strange, bordering on supernatural. Of course even as they whispered on their benches Luna paid no mind. Her father had explained it to her pretty early on when the bullying and teasing had got so bad she'd wanted to leave school. It was a genetic disorder, her mother had been very sick during her pregnancy and she had almost died as well, the stress and strain of the pregnancy had caused her not to develop any pigmentation, while the stress of the birth had caused her hair to turn white.

Occasionally the whispers and talk would get to her but the boys of her year had gone from teasing her to holding her as the most 'exotic' girl in town. One in particular constantly attempted to catch her eye but she offered him little more than a smile and a wave even while he was at his most charming. In truth she was a little bit of a 'Belle'. Not noticing the admiring gazes of others nor paying heed to their mockery, in fact Belle from Beauty and the Beast was her childhood hero, sure their problems were different but they affected them in similar ways, even their family was similar in some respects.

“Hello Mrs. Simkins, how are you today?” The librarian had barely opened the door before Luna was stepping inside, they both exchanged quiet pleasantries before Luna scanned in all the books she was returning and wandered inside the vast library. She spent all of her free time here, wandering and browsing through the expansive library, she even worked here part time on the odd weekend when they were down staff members. Walking through the massive stacks of old and dusty tomes to the back of the library she came upon the reference section for the local area. History, famous people and finally the wildlife. She had a feeling today would be another good day and a small smile took her pale lips.

Freelance.
Darius.

Once more in the bowels of this stain on the world, but he did not care how scummy a person was as long as they were paying him. The leather clad rider reclined, the headless body oozing a thin stream of black smoke that swayed in the gentle currents of the air condition, turning and twisting up into the extractor fans. His head sat on the table, eyes closed, relaxing it seemed as a creature in chains muttered obscenities and was dragged off for god only knew what kind of testing.

“Von Klein, good job.” The disembodied head opened its eyes with a curious but irritated hike of it's brow. The man in the lab coat annoyed him endlessly, though Darius could never figure out why, perhaps it was his nasally voice, his peaky features or his condescending manner that did it, either way he wasn't a fan. “I will never know why you don't work for us full time.”
“Because.” Came the thick, smoky voice accompanied by an actual wisp of black smoke upon his first word. “The money is rubbish, the hours restrictive and I simply don't like you.”

His body reached for the head which was lifted and placed on one shoulder, “Now if you don't mind I would like my payment and to get going.” For a moment the scientist looked ready to bite chunks out of him but finally relented and removed his chequebook to write out the blood money they paid the bounty hunter. “You know.” Continued Beaky. “You can't not choose aside, eventually you'll have to. Either you're with us, or them.”

The headless horseman sighed, both his neck stump and his head releasing the black vapours. “Well until then I'll work for whoever pays me the most.” Grabbing his head with both hands he positioned it about the stump and with a small twist and push there was a sick sound of tendons snapping as it reattached itself. Rocking his head back and forth a moment and rolling his jaw he reached for the cheque and moved to stand from the chair he'd been in the last hour or more. “You have my contact details.” So did the pack, “Call me when you have another job.” With that he waved his hand, pocketed the cheque and put on the black motorcycle helmet.

Finally some money and the first thing he wanted to do was go to the coffee shop and enjoy a good cup of coffee.