;; The Killer was a Coward

“He’s in the pack, right? I decided I’m going to join.” Marshall offered, “You convinced me.” He hoped that meant Kit would too, in truth the wolf didn’t really want to be in it if the other wasn’t. This was something they could do together, one of many things, Marshall hoped. The full moon was coming soon and while the wolf was afraid for what that was going to mean, this hurtle he’d just gotten over made him almost a bit… excited. His limbs were tired but there was still an edge there, he felt like he could climb a mountain, or jump out of an airplane. Though maybe that was just the adrenaline talking. “Would you-” he kind of looked around, it was a mess but Marshall didn’t really care about that. “I don’t know, would you mind staying?” Marshall was alone here, but Kit felt like someone he could trust and after what the man had just helped him with Marshall kind of hoped that he wouldn’t just go running off. 

++

Kit nodded, tearing his eyes away from the state of the apartment and back to the young wolf’s face, “Really? That’s great.” a hand motioning to himself and grinning back at him, “I’m joining too.” He couldn’t imagine a better idea would come around. The Argos pack from what he’s learned was very nice and welcoming, and more than willing to help a couple of newly turned wolves. There were dangerous things in the city, as well as hunters who would eliminate them if they caused too much trouble in Corinth. He didn’t want to see Marshall wind up on one of their hit lists (or even himself.) Pushing aside something he took a seat and folded his hands in his lap, “Ya ya, I’ll stay. Of course I will. Are you feeling okay? Sick or nauseous at all?” he remembered when he resisted his change he booted his stomach out, “I can go down to the vending machine and grab you a ginger ale or something.” 

Zeke deposited Kit on the chair then went to grab a first aid kit, returning to see that the wolf had already set about the task of pulling up the pant leg a bit. It was only now that the shifter noticed how ill fitting the clothes were, the pants and the shirt were maybe a bit too short, and then too big at the waist and the shoulders. Still, were the situation a bit different then Zeke might have liked to see the other in his clothes. “Don’t let it go to your head.” Zeke quipped as he sat on his knees in front of the wolf and gingerly lifted Kit’s foot to let it rest on his lap. He did like him, but that wasn’t the point here. “If I didn’t like you I never would’ve brought you back here in the first place.” The shifter pointed out, he dabbed lightly at the wound with clean gauze and a sterile solution to try and clean the dirt out. Sullying it and grabbing a bit more shortly after. The wound wasn’t so bad anymore, the wolf had likely seen to that. Zeke paused a moment, his eyes going from Kit’s wound to the other man’s face. “What would you have done, if it were me out there instead of you?”

++

Kit lifted a hand to pet the curious Bruiser as Zeke wandered off to go find medical supplies, he and the dog got along much better than when they first met; he couldn’t help but think the same for Zeke as well. As the other returned, he watched as he sunk to his knees in front of him, “too late, it’s already gone to my head.” he joked but voice was quiet and soft as he watched Zeke;  although his deft hands were gentle Kit couldn’t help but wince as he started to work on cleaning the wound. Body stiffening with each sting and knuckles going white. A little taken back by the look Zeke had given him, eyes bright and commanding as his asked his question. Kit didn’t need to think about it for long, he had already run the scenario in his head. “I would’ve come back for you; make sure you were okay.” Kit smiled down at him, “bring you back home, fix you up.” Looking from his friends captivating gaze down to the wound slowly undoubtedly healing. “Because I do like you.” Even if I tried to kill you. “If I do -- you know lose control and start killing people..” he trailed off eyebrows furrowing. I hope you’ll put me down. The concerned look quickly turned into a sheepish smile, “Never mind -- I can’t stand smelling like this any longer. I’m gonna take you up on that shower offer.” 

“That’s a relief.” Zeke said sarcastically, an amused smirk on his lips as he coked his head a bit in the wolf’s direction. At least Kit wasn’t out in these woods hurting people on the regular, still, the man he was currently shouldering was walking a tightrope. A strong wind could blow the wolf one way or the other, the fact that Kit showed any remorse, that he genuinely wanted to gain control and keep from hurting people gave the hunter some measure of comfort. He wouldn’t admit out loud that there was a measure of guilt gnawing at him, that all this time maybe Kit was running around hurting people. “The pack will probably be good for you,” Zeke offered, “and you know, if you’re looking for someone to tie you up I’m always available.” He added, his characteristic smirk fixed in place as he did so. They got to his building and slowly the shifter started to help Kit up the stairs. “I’ll take a look at your leg and get you patched up, you can take a shower here if you want too. You stink.”

++

“You know I might take you up on that offer.” Seeing that familiar grin cross the shifters face sent some relief through Kit, and he couldn’t help but smile back sheepishly. Suddenly the weight of what could happen if he lost control in a city full of hunters and other dangerous creatures hit him like a brick. Relieved to see Zeke’s building come into view, and although walking up the stairs was a feat in itself, he never thought he would be so happy to see Bruiser at the door. Pinching the front of his shirt and lowering his nose to take a sniff underneath his clothes, he grimaced. He smelled like blood, dirt, and a lot of sweat. Almost like how it was like when he was living out in the woods, but almost worse. “Uh yeah, thank you.” shuffling over to to the nearest piece of furniture to finally take a load off his wounded leg. Lifting the pant leg up a bit more to expose the whole damage, wincing at how it looked. But with his healing it certainly could’ve looked a lot worse. Letting out a long exhale he looked up at Zeke and suddenly he couldn’t hold back a smile, “you must like me a lot going through this much trouble for me.” 

Kit’s hesitation was clear, but there wasn’t much that Zeke could say that would make right the things that had occurred the night before. The shifter only really had what he kept telling himself over and over, “It wasn’t your fault.” Zeke said with a quiet shake of his head, continuously putting one foot in front of the other until the tree line came into sight not too far ahead. “This thing… It’s something that happened to you, not because of you.” He wasn’t sure how much comfort the condolences could really provide, but Zeke was alive, and Kit was too. That had to count for something.”I was hunting.” The shifter said without mincing his words, “The city is dangerous, people are dying all the time - bodies drained of blood, sudden death, hearts ripped out. I wanted to see what was out here.” He paused for a moment, at least Kit was starting to gain some control, even if the approaching full moon had driven him over the edge. “Do you have a plan… Any idea how to get a grip on this thing?”

++

Kit knew he couldn’t control himself when the wolf came out, he knew technically it wasn’t his fault; that he was just an unfortunate pawn for the violence that lay under his skin. But god, he never wanted to hurt Zeke like that again, see that panic in his eyes from something that HE caused, “right,” sighing out he nodded in agreement, though not convinced. Willing to drop it for now, thankful that the other man was so forgiving, and relieved to still be able to hear the shifters heartbeat gently humming against his chest. Hunting. He paled, and throat grew dry. Would he be dead if Zeke wasn’t a friend, or if some other hunter had stumbled upon him. “I -- I haven’t killed anyone since I’ve been here.” relieved to see the tree line, the city coming into view, his body was sore and tired; too many thoughts running through his head. He just wanted to go back to that gentle morning with Zeke and lose himself in the comfort and warmth of his body and sleep forever. “I’m part of the Argos pack now, I have friends who are gonna help me during the full moon. I’m going to get a control on this.” I have too. “If not I can always chain myself up some basement every month..” the corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin, “that’s what they do in the movies.”

To get Kit from the forest, to Corinth, and to Zeke’s place, the shifter had to take the brunt of the wolf’s weight. He didn’t really want the other walking on it at all but the other was too big to be carried. Zeke’s arm wound under the man’s shoulder and wrapped around the top of Kit’s back, lifting a bit as he held his resting hand against his chest. “It’s alright, I got you.” He offered as they set about a slow pace through the woods. In truth Kit was lucky that Zeke was able to heal himself, and lucky that no one else had gotten seriously injured. The shifter didn’t want to say that he’d put down wolves for less, but he’d been on a job similar in Norway when Scylla had passed. There was a werewolf there who was out of control and killing people every full moon, it had to be put down. Killing monsters was surprisingly easy, what was hard was when they turned back into what they’d been before. “I take it it’s like that for you every time you shift?” Zeke asked, he didn’t know how or why some people were able to take control of their shift, and why some people couldn’t. If it was a learned skill or something that would just come in time. But Zeke wasn’t the only hunter in town, and Corinth was a dangerous place to be wandering around on training wheels. “Do you remember much?”

++

The trip from the forest to Zeke’s place was long and to Kit a little shameful, he felt bad enough as it was and now he was relying on Zeke to help him further. As much as he liked and trusted him, putting this kind of tension on a new relationship could break it, and Kit didn’t want to lose him. The shifter’s touch was familiar, gentle against his chest; his voice reassuring the same kind of tone he could remember the night before. Trying to talk to him, get through the fog of the partially full moon. Why hadn’t it worked? “I haven’t actually shifted that many times,” he winced a bit with every step, he could count how many times the wolf emerged on one hand. Every time was a nightmare. “--but yeah, generally. I just recently learned how to stop it; but I guess the thought of the full moon coming soon drove it out.” It was hard to think of the wolf as a friend, someone he’s known his entire life; it was a monster separate from him. It did what it pleased and Kit was almost always powerless. Was it because he was bit? Would he be able to tame it eventually like Erik said? With his eyes focused on the ground, making sure each step was careful he tried to reminisce. He could remember his first couple shifts he couldn’t remember anything, he’d wake up lost and confused. But this time was different, he could remember most of it. “You were talking to me, I remember that. I can remember--” he hesitated. The taste of his blood in his mouth, the painful cry, the look on his face. “I can’t remember much after that.” furrowing his eyebrows he looked up, “Why were you out there?” 

“I’m thinking you should put these on.” Zeke said with a sigh as he produced a pair of pants from the duffel and holding them out for Kit to take. Maybe there was a part of him that was still a bit salty about the night before, the wolf was a stranger, but still, if it had been anyone else then Zeke wouldn’t have been stupid enough to try and get through to him. The shifter’s hand came up to scratch at the back of his head, truly not good with- any of this. “Look, you tried to warn me and I didn’t listen. I thought. I don’t know. I thought maybe I could get through to you last night and you ended up ripping my fucking arm off.” He scoffed, “Maybe I should have left your ass out here but when I came to this morning I was worried about you. About the trap, about maybe someone worse than me coming across you. So I came back. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” Zeke looked at his arm and turned it a bit for Kit to see, “And I guess… No harm no foul, right? We’re good. Now get dressed and lets get you out of here.” 

++

Wincing he pulled the pants over the fresh wound rolling up the pant to keep it from touching it, the clothes smelled good. Like Zeke’s place, a little like Bruiser and a little comforting. Even though he had asked, Zeke’s answer only made him feel more guilty; more ashamed that he couldn’t hold himself back even against someone who he liked. He let out a long exhale, “I’m --” he was going to apologize again, hell he might apologize for the rest of his life. But he knew Zeke would just shove it off again; despite everything that had happened the previous night. Zeke had come back, willingly; and he should be thankful for that. “Thank you.” very appreciative. not wanting to think about what could’ve happened if someone or something else found him first. The casualness in which Zeke presented his fulling regenerated arm freaking Kit out a bit, mind wandering back to the now severed piece of him laying out in a field somewhere to be picked on and eaten by scavengers. “Yeah -- no harm no foul.” he repeated, hesitantly he wrapped an arm around Zeke’s shoulders and let him help guide them out of there. 

“Shut up-” Zeke dismissed, not worried in the slightest that the wolf had lost control. The shifter had impulsively thought that maybe he could talk the man down, it was foolish. A lesson learned. One he probably wouldn’t have tried if he didn’t know the person that crept under the wolf’s fur. “here,” the shifter said instead as he rolled up the shirt he’d brought for Kit and offered it towards the man. This didn’t feel like the time or place for apologies, not when Kit’s leg was still caught in the trap. Zeke wasn’t a doctor or nurse, but him and his brother had been patching each other up for years. He didn’t know if a wolf could get gangrene but the last thing he wanted was for Kit to lose his fucking leg over a bear trap. The werewolf couldn’t grow his limbs back. “bite down on this.” 

Zeke’s hands moved to either side of the trap, Kit’s leg was pale and cold, two things that worried him. But werewolves were strong, he was counting on that. “I’m gonna pry this thing open and get it off of you, alright? We’ll get you out of here, somewhere I can get a better look at it.” Anticipation was the worst part of any stitch, knowing when someone was going to pop your shoulder back in was just about as bad as the action of having the bone relocated. “On three.” Zeke said simply, “One-” strong hands immediately wrenched the trap open as the gnarled iron teeth yanked free of bone and sinew. The shifter tossed the heavy trap into the bush as it harmlessly snapped shut again. The hard part was over, and Zeke looked to Kit once again, worry laden in his blue-green eyes. “How you feeling?”

++

The moment Zeke told him to shut up, he did. Chewing on the inside of his lip instead, his mind whirring with what-if and what the hell was going on in Zeke’s head. He knew they weren’t a thing -- hell they hardly knew each other. They had one date -- slept together. But, there was nothing to solidify what they had. Yet, Kit felt distraught, his heart panged and fell into the pit of stomach at the thought of Zeke never talking to him again. There was a brief hesitation before he took the rolled up shirt from him, looking down at the mangled mess at his ankle and grimacing at the thought of what was about to happen. Letting a shaky sigh he bit down on the fabric, bracing for the pain. Head whipping back, he let out a painful cry as so suddenly the metal was yanked from flesh, tears in the corner of his eyes. Dropping the shirt out of his mouth and unrolling it to pull it on. 

Finally, he looked up to meet Zeke’s gaze and he felt his heart beat quicken. “I’m -- I’m okay.” However this probably was one of the worst scrapes he ever got himself into; although he did break his arm when he was seven - but he couldn’t compare that to this. He still felt nauseous, unsure if it was from the pain or the thought that if Zeke was human than he would’ve definitely killed him last night. Kit made a move to stand up, albeit a shaky one, using the nearby tree to keep steady. Looking down at his wounded ankle he tried to put some weight on it and winced. That was also when he realized he was pantless of course Zeke had seen his naked body before but he couldn’t help but hide his bits as best he could with his hand. “I wish you would tell me what you’re thinking” he blurted out with a sigh. 

The cry of pain was enough to give Zeke pause, he stopped for a moment and looked back, his hand still over the place where his arm had once been. The sight of the terrifying werewolf reduced to any other beast caught in a trip was pitiful, and sad. If only because the shifter knew the man that lived within the monster’s kin, but there was no reasoning with the wolf. It was beyond him now, and Zeke had his own wounds to tend to. Despite himself, Zeke turned away from Kit and put the wolf at his back as he headed past the city and towards the sea. Weak limbs barely carried him forward now as he stumbled into white curling waves as the drew him out with the tide. Mottled skin emerged over pink flesh and tentacles writhed in the place of limbs as Zeke propelled himself out into the water. Here he could recover, fixed upon a rock below the surface as he blended into his surroundings on the ocean floor. Somewhere far away a wolf cried out towards a nearly full moon, hopeless and desperate as the silver orb moved across the sky. 

Just past dawn Zeke made his way from the sea and poured himself into the clothes he’d shifted out of, the sleeve of his shirt and jacket were gone, but the limb that had been torn off regrew overnight. Soft and still pinkish, Zeke wondered what had become of Kit after he’d been left behind. Though the shifter hadn’t done anything wrong, a part of him felt guilty for abandoning the wolf in the woods. It wasn’t often that Zeke found himself caring for many people, dangerous and temperamental werewolves maybe most of all. But Kit wasn’t really either of those things, he was kind, anxious, and a victim of something that was beyond his control. 

Tepid footsteps drew Zeke back into the woods shortly after he’d stopped at home and threw together a small duffel of clothes just in case. A cold snap had fallen over the early morning, and as orange leaves littered the ground, there among the brush was Kit - naked, trapped, and somehow fast asleep. “Hey-” Zeke called out, for a moment afraid that the man had died in the middle of the night. Either from blood loss or fatigue, Kit was out cold and despite what happened the night before, Zeke got close and knelt beside him; Zeke threw his jacket over him as he tapped him on the cheek a few times with his knuckles. “hey wake up.” Because this is going to get a lot worse before it gets any better. 

++

The wolf prowled and gnawed at its leg, digging through the dirt and howling pleas through the night. Tiring itself out in the wee hours of the morning. Leaving a shivering naked body on the forest floor. It was a strange state, coming from wolf back into his own controlled mind -- his dreams were wild; almost memory like from the night before. In the point of view of the wolf, vision red and distorted he hurt someone, bad. His nose crinkled as he slept, eyebrows furrowing. Feeling a couple gentle raps on the side of his face woke him up. Blood shot eyes snapped open, and his body sat up abruptly, looking down at the jacket splayed over his form. “I--” he cleared his throat, he knew who had found him, and when he looked up he was met with the face of the last person he wanted to see. Memories came flooding back, and the taste of blood in his mouth started to make him feel nauseous. He was shaking fists and trembling teeth. He knew; he knew he did not mean to be cruel, and yet -- Zeke didn’t have to say anything. He could sense the hesitation in the air, the way he looked at him, and clearly able to see and smell the dried blood on the torn bit of fabric where a sleeve used to be.

The naked man couldn’t meet the steely gaze that bore down on him, there was no anger in those eyes, but it felt worse. His leg had gone numb a long time ago, of course any movement hurt; but he hardly noticed it now. How he wish he couldn’t remember the night, how his mind held no pity on him. He was used to forgetting the nights the wolf took over; and yet this night haunted his memories like a bad nightmare he couldn’t wake from. Sitting up he delicately put his fingers around where he could grasp the trap, trying to pry it open. Muscles still weak from the shift, his arms trembled and he sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t--” I didn’t want you to see this side of me. Was what he was going to say, “I never meant for that to happen.”

There was no reasoning with the wolf, Zeke understood as much now. The creature wanted blood and now he had a mouthful of it. His hand squeezed at the place where his arm once was, shock and adrenaline pulsed through his system as his vision blurred at the edges. Red, crimson pools splotched at his feet as the tentacles managed to temporarily bind the wound. Zeke wouldn’t be able to get through to Kit, not like this, and neither would the shifter be able to forgive himself if he hurt him. “Fuck.” He said again, before he turned on the spot and did the only sensible thing that anyone could do in this moment: run. 

The city was not far, but he was on two legs while the wolf was on four. The smell of the shifter’s blood stained the air as Zeke broke through trees and brush to try and hurdle himself towards safety, towards the sea, towards anything that might save him. The scent of iron pulled at his frantic senses, and without thinking he changed direction, leveraging and hurdling himself over a neatly covered hunter’s trap before he hit the ground, hard. 

++

“Are you going to pick one?” Eurydice looks from where she is literally sitting in the dirt amongst the little gourds and her eyes narrow. A wolf, she recognizes the energy and she wonders if she’s glimpsed him in the woods before. He is lucky she likes their kind, they are also of the forest, not like her or her fellow dryad, but the wolves belong there, she thinks. “I can do so without hurting their vines if you want one.” @kitxberker​

++

Kit only ever got to experience the whole pumpkin carving aspect to Halloween when he was a child. When out on a walk he stumbled upon the pumpkin patch and couldn’t help but get a little curious. Looking down admiring the big ones, and even the smaller ones in their shadows, he almost didn’t notice the woman until she spoke up, nearly jumping out of his skin. Hand going to his chest to calm his heart beat, “jesus.” a sheepish smile slipping over his lips. “Uh. I don’t know?” the stranger smelled -- strange. Not like anything he’s come across before, she smelled like nature, like the forest after rain. “Any recommendations? Never picked out at gourd before.”

One of Fenrir’s kin. Not the true shifters, the dire wolves that carry his lineage, but the twisted and damned creatures that found themselves on the unfortunate end of a witch’s deal. It entertains him, in a way, to see the man fight against the beast that rages inside of his chest. It’s a battle that’s so rarely won, particularly for those that are mortal. If anything, time has only taught Calder that it’s better to embrace the animal rather than push against it; to become the thing that everyone so fears they will be. “I am not the one in any danger here,” he remarks, a smirk that’s cruel cutting against his lips as he watches the man become wolf. The sight is not half as glorious as Fenrir’s true form, he notes with disappointment, but for a lesser man, no less worthy of terror. For one such as he, though, Calder only finds amusement, leaning back against a tree with his arms crossed against his chest. “You seem more beast than man. I wonder, is there still a thought to you that remains your own?” Or have they all been lost to the wolf.

++

-

For the briefest of moments Zeke actually thought he was going to get through to the wolf, but the shifter was good at hunting the beasts - not taming them. This was probably the closest he’d ever gotten to a werewolf and going forward from this day on would be the closest he got to one again. Kit’s sickening grin spread across wolfish lips and for once fear took the place of the arrogant certainty that permeated Zeke’s existence normally. The wolf lunged, and a howl of pain ripped out of the shifter’s lips as razor sharp teeth buried into the flesh of his arm. “Fuck!” Zeke yelled as he was thrown back with the wolf as the pair rolled together, he didn’t have time to think or second guess himself. Blood and pain splattered the forest, a mess of tentacles burst through skin as Zeke tried to restrain the creature, but not before his arm was wrenched free of his body. The arm still hung in the wolf’s mouth, blood dripped from his maw as Zeke rose unsteadily to his feet. Mottled skin overtook half his form as one eye peered through the dark partially shifted, a grouping of tentacles wiggling in the dark as Zeke panted through the pain. This was bad. 

++

The wolf felt the limb tear with a satisfying rip, backing off from the man with his recently detached arm handing limp in between his jaws, blood filling his mouth the taste driving him mad. Dropping it at his feet, the wolf almost made a sound like it was laughing. Kit was gone, pushed to the side, the wolf was entirely in control and it thrived on the chaos. The tentacles although confused the wolf, it didn’t detour him. I’ll rip off all your arms if I have too. However, he hesitated, growling at the shifter eyes flickering from his face to the woods behind him. Itching to have his prey run, try to escape so he can chase after and take him down like some sort of sick game. He started to circle the wounded man, licking blood off his chops the taste still fresh in his mouth. Itching to pounce again but enjoying all too much the look of fear and anticipation in the mans eyes.

To say that Hakon felt a difference between werewolves and his line of shifters would be a bit of a lie. There was little that made them different, despite the magic that was infused with a werewolf’s soul. The magic that let them live longer, and made them respond to the moon as they once had. His own magic was there still, deep within the old bloodlines that made werewolves what they were. All dire wolf shifters had been turned, and their bite had become a curse, much like a vampire’s blood. For now, though, the original walked through the forest, hearing the distressed call of a werewolf. 

Many were not known to him, but he knew they all recognized their maker when they saw him. For now, Fenrir stayed within his human form. It’d been ages since he’d shifted, not even bothering to do so since he’d been back to life. His massive wolf form was still larger than any others, but it was nothing compared to what he once had been. A giant among gods. “Your mind is tainted by a belief that you have no will, wolf. Fight it. Fight it, and we can speak.”

There was a familiarity, a divine presence to Hakon that took partially shifted Kit, entirely by surprise. The pain of shifting was pushed back, no longer his primary focus as gentle words from the stranger coaxed his ill-fated mind. His body felt exhausted, he just wanted to submit to the change and let the wolf takeover -- but with the strangers commanding presence, he tried fighting back. His mangled and bloodied body, although mid shift, began to return to normal. Slowly. Tearing his gaze away from his audience to the ground, closing his eyes tight as he repeated the mantra Erik taught him in his head; as he didn’t think he could possibly get a coherent word out in his state. Swallowing down the wolf and the guttural growls that had previously taken over him. The beast put down for the time being. But now, as his body shifted back to normal, his body quaking and wounds closed from where bones had previously jutted - he felt embarrassed and pathetic in this strangers company. “I-” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, that -- that doesn’t usually happen.” 

He didn’t have a proper home, which he was alright with. The forest would act as his home for the time being, he felt comfortable there anyways. He made friends with all sorts of woodland creatures, finding their company much better than other beings. While only able to communicate with reptiles, it didn’t stop him from being friendly with others, using whatever reptile was around to act as his translator. Krys was like the real life version of a Disney princess, with animals that followed behind him or only having animals as his friends. The biggest difference was that he didn’t sing nor did he have a prince– which he was entirely fine with.

He sat under a tree, smiling and talking with a Testudo graeca who spoke fondly of her family. A mother who loved her children oh so much, how lovely. His smile almost dropped throughout the conversation, memories of his own mother flooding his mind. It was a terrible first interaction and it might’ve been their last, well, that all depended on him of course. He could continue pushing or leave her alone. His thoughts were put to an end, Krys instantly feeling the presence of a werewolf nearby. “Excuse me,” he said, standing up to his feet. “I’ll have to cut our conversation for now. I have to take care of something. Please get home and tell your family that I said hello. I’ll try to visit one day.” A quick nod of the head and he was off.

There, he could see a naked man who  was in the middle of shifting. It was obvious that he didn’t have control over it, how pitiful. Get out of here, the werewolf said, Krys almost laughed. As if he was terrified of some werewolf who couldn’t control his shifting. “Now this is just sad,” he said. “Either you’re new at this or your pack didn’t teach you anything. Pitiful.”

“Get out of here.” he tried to reiterate, but by the time the stranger had spoke; Kit wasn’t able to pull back the beast that wanted out; although he could still hear him well enough, the man inside was ashamed and embarrassed. Here he thought he was getting better at controlling his shifting, all the hard work he’d put in with Erik and Marshall and figuring out how to keep the wolf at bay and how to understand it; and yet. One full moon threatens and he loses all his senses. The wolf however, didn’t take too kindly to being belittled, angry; excited. Shaking blood off his fur and licking the crimson from his teeth he approached the stranger. I’m going to kill you. Yellow eyes staring at the small human, so tiny and weak. The wolf almost looked like it was grinning. I’ll show you pathetic. Kicking up leaves and dirt, he lunged towards Krys with an insatiable hunger.

If Zeke hadn’t come to sort of care about Kit, then watching him strip his clothes off and shift his form might have been kind of hot. It looked painful though, something that the shifter had come to learned was just a fact of being a werewolf. He didn’t know if it was like his own transformation that had started painful, but with practice had become seamless, or if there was more to it. “Hey-” Zeke greeted, not about to go running off scared anywhere, for any reason. “easy there big guy.” The shifter offered as Kit screamed for Zeke to get away from him. Zeke was out here hunting, looking for a den of something particularly nasty and instead had stumbled upon Kit in the woods - all breaking bones and tormented as he went from man to wolf. A beast stood not far from Zeke now, a dire wolf to be exact, but octopi could regenerate their tentacles, so losing a limb wasn’t something the shifter was worried about. “I ain’t going anywhere, you know me.” Barely, maybe, but from what Zeke had gathered about Kit he was a good person, quiet, sincere. He wasn’t this monster that stood before Zeke now. “And I know you, so what, you gonna try and kill me Kit?”

++

There was a brief moment when Kit could hear the low timbre of a familiar voice, speaking to him like it was coming through the fog that was clouding his judgement. The wolf was taking over, an angry bastard with the excitement and hunger of finally tearing his way through Kit’s defenses.  Zeke’s voice was soft, gentle; trying to coax the human side back; but as much as he tried to pull himself out; the wolf refused and instead started circling the shapeshifter. Teeth bared in a threatening growl, the way the wolf stared at Zeke it could almost pass as a sinister grin. The only thing on his mind was violence and he didn’t hesitate to lunge at the shifter, fangs digging into soft flesh as the two bodies tumbled to the soft ground, kicking up dirt in their wake.