The stench of fear was spreading like a disease throughout the Chappel Sanctuary. The white-haired man known as Velganos knew it. The other lycans knew it. Even the blinded-by-faith simpleton Chapple family knew it. In just two nights time, the lycans that resided there would be slaves to the full moon once again, transforming into terrifying beasts of immense physical power. Or at least, some of them would.
Despite the ugly situation they had found themselves in - essentially prisoners to the human family for what, the humans believed, was their own good - the Chapples at least had the good sense to bring whichever lycans chose to indulge in it an herbal tea made with something known as Temppressant, a drug that more commonly went by "Dog Chow" on the streets. The drug was rumored to have been synthesized in a lab in London by a brilliant scientist who was regrettably turned into a lycan himself and was working on a cure. Rather than a cure, he instead found a treatment that was strong enough, when taken regularly, to help keep the animal instinctual side at bay, so that the subject would be able to retain their own mind when transformed. Of course, this was only useful to Adolescent or Youth lycans who weren't able to retain their minds quite yet on their own when transformed. This drug also allowed the user to transform into their wolf form upon will or to deny it altogether. In a sense, it was the closest anyone was likely to get to fully curing a person of lycanthropy.
Velganos set his rake aside, having just finished collecting another pile of leaves from the Sanctuary grounds. Autumn was here, and with it came the vibrant red, yellow, and orange leaves on the trees that soon descended to the ground, void of life. He stared at the pile for a moment before picking up his rake to take to the shed, when he was approached by Abraham, a man of the Chapple family. Lycans were not allowed to go anywhere on the Chapple side of the sanctuary without being accompanied by a human escort. Despite his social status, Abraham wore rather simple and modest clothes, aside from a sparkling silver cross around his neck. A gun sat holstered to his side. He walked with a little bounce in his step and looked annoyingly too chipper.
"Good day, Velganos," he called out in greeting as he approached.
Velganos managed a mumbled version of a hello as he continued to walk to the shed to store the rake.
"What a beautiful day the Lord has given us today," Abraham said with far more enthusiasm than Velganos could hope to match.
"Indeed," Velganos replied as he and Abraham made it to the shed where Velganos set the rake on its proper spot along the wall. "The Lord must be saving up His rain for a couple more days."
"The sun can still shine on you and the others, Velganos, even with your...condition. God loves us all. We are all His children." With that, Abraham locked up the shed and made his way back toward the Chapple mansion.
After his duties had been completed for the day, Velganos was allowed to find his own ways of entertaining himself. He decided to take a break by the pond on the lycan side of the grounds. He first had to ask for permission to have the silver-lined fence that split the Sanctuary in half opened. Once on the other side, he could roam where he pleased without needing to have human escorts. This was the lycan side. Though he was essentially in a gigantic cage, it was the closest thing he had to freedom here.
The pond looked like a glossy, still fire, reflecting the brilliant colors of the trees that surrounded the water. Velganos felt a wave of peace wash over him as he heaved a sigh and sat down at the edge near a giant oak, and, taking off his shoes, dipped his feet in. The water was cool, but refreshing. It reminded him of the days of his youth all those many years ago when his father would take him out on the fishing boat and Velganos would often go swimming. A light breeze blew through the trees, rustling the leaves and blades of grass tranquilly. Closing his blue and green eyes, the late-twenty-something-looking man laid back on the perfectly kempt lawn, and tried to meditate in an attempt to sooth his mind from thoughts of the full moon. Though he was no stranger to Dog Chow as a means of helping him cope, he had been, prior to being caught and taken to the Chapple Sanctuary, a member of a respectable pack of lycans who were helping him to deal with his growing addiction to the drug.
Just as he felt the tug of sleep pulling him deeper and away from the waking world, a chuckle from behind stirred him instantly. Turning, Velganos saw a middle-aged-looking man of color standing a few paces away. The man's name was Kendrick, and though Velganos had never met him on the outside, the two had grown to be fairly decent friends since living at the Sanctuary. Kendrick was an easygoing man with little worry and a whole lot of acceptance in his soul. He was a positive entity to be around, and Velganos always felt better when with him.
"Did I catch you napping?" Kendrick asked, amused, before sitting down next to his friend and clapping him good-naturedly against the back as Velganos sat up.
"I was meditating," said Velganos with a smirk, not sounding entirely convincing.
"Ahh, right. How have you been with the tea lately?" Kendrick knew Velganos was trying to kick the habit and attempting to learn to control his wolf side on his own.
"It's not getting any easier. Every time the full moon approaches, I feel like I have no choice but to accept their tea. They lace it with a little wolfsbane too, you know?"
"'Wolfsbane?'" Kendrick exclaimed. "I suppose that makes sense. Everyone who drinks it never turns into a wolf. I guess I always thought they just chose not to turn once they had Dog Chow coursing through the veins to help with that. But, being how cautious the Chapples are, I suppose it makes sense that they'd take away that choice altogether and strip you of the ability to turn at all."
"Let's just hope they always get the dosage right," Velganos replied, referring to the wolfsbane. "I'd hate for someone to get sick from it. But, then again, that could spark a riot amongst the lycans, and who knows. That could be fun," he joked.
"When was the last time you had any to drink?" Kendrick questioned, following it up with, "I've only just had some this morning in preparation for the coming moon."
Velganos stared down at the tiny fish that swam around his feet in the pond only then to turn his focus on his own reflection. "It's been two days," he said yearningly. Unlike the others, Velganos wasn't only restricted to turning into a wolf on a full moon, though the moon did make it all the more intense. He was at that stage now between Youth and Adult, and as such, he was able to turn outside of the full moon, but it rarely happened upon will. In most cases, he would find himself transforming in highly-charged emotional states, and then, once transformed, he'd be unlikely to have his whole human mind intact. It was a far worse condition than most had to deal with. It was because of this that Velganos became an addict to Dog Chow.
"I don't think I can go without it during these next few days," he admitted, sounding more serious than usual. He then turned to look Kendrick in the eyes. "The fear I keep smelling everywhere I go, that surrounds me, that's been haunting me... I think much of that fear is my own."
"Don't be afraid," Rozlin kept telling herself again and again. "You've got this."
Standing in the middle of a dirt training ground surrounded by a small but intimidating audience was a twenty-seven-year-old dark-haired girl, cloaked in red. A bow was raised at her side, the bow string drawn. She focused on her target ahead - a crude wooden wolf made by an artisan-in-training at the Society for which the girl belonged. Taking deep, slow breaths, she attempted to steady her hand, aware she was holding the arrow for far too long now and was growing tired. This wasn't typical for her. She would perform fine if not being scrutinized by so many of her peers - fellow wolf hunters. She knew she had a lot of pressure on her, not only because she was one of the only female hunters, a fact that followed her all her life, but also because this was one of a series of tests she'd be undergoing in order to pass as a Leader for hunting parties. Normally, any hunter who had been on at least fifteen successful hunts would be automatically considered a leader, but rules were starting to change recently, especially since some of the heads of the Society of Hunters: Night Security (or SOHNS as they more often went by) were male chauvinists and didn't like the idea of a woman leading men.
Finally, she let her arrow fly, and it cut through the air with deadly precision, piercing the wolf carving in the heart -- not that it truly mattered, being that she always hunted with silver arrows anyway. Regardless of where the arrow hit a lycan, the silver would poison the creature just the same. Still, she was being judged harshly on her skill and accuracy. After the bow and arrow challenge was complete, she would be asked to practice for her pistol challenge, which would not be held for another month. The time between each challenge was ridiculous and unnecessary, and though she tried to dispute it, the heads of SOHNS (including her own grandfather, Ulric Redd), insisted it was for her own good so that she could properly prepare.
That evening, Rozlin collapsed on a soft bed of grass outside the SOHNS headquarters, frustrated and mentally exhausted. She had managed to pass her bow challenge, though points had been docked for too much time spent aiming. Relieved as she was to be one step closer to being considered an equal to the other experienced hunters, she felt a sense of self respect being slowly stripped from her, as if each time she sought approval from men, she was ridding herself of another layer of her own dignity and pride. To escape this thought, along with the cold, stone fortified walls of SOHNS, she ventured out into the nearby woods to be alone. She had on her a hunting blade for protection and her trusty flintlock single shot pistol that she already was quite adept at using.
Her gold, cinnamon brown eyes scanned the shadowy canopy as she began to relax. Night was more familiar to her than day. She had been a hunter all her life, just as her father and grandfather and great grandfather befor her. She learned to live in and trust the night. Because she often hunted under the cover of darkness, she was used to sleeping during the day, and as such, she felt wide awake, and her mind raced. Though she felt better being out in nature and away from her fellow hunters, she knew the only thing that would truly relieve her anxiety and stress would be to land a fresh kill. The thrill of the hunt, of tracking wild beasts, of taking down something that was twice or three times her size was far too enticing. She craved it frequently, especially during times where she wanted to take her mind off other things. It was as therapeutic as it was constructive.
Taking one last look at the nearly-full moon and starry sky, she leapt up to her feet, tying her long, straight, dark hair back with a leather band, and disappeared without a sound into the dark foliage.
