raised by w o l v e s↓
lyrafossil
Hand dragging along the beginnings of a beard on his strong jaw line, the amber-flecked steely eyes of Owen Page watched the grounds before him. He had only emerged from the woods, after having jogged about in a very different form moments before it. He still possessed a wild look, a glint in his beautiful eyes that said; I’d sooner be back in the trees. These days, he felt more whole when he was roaming the forest in one of his many animagi shaped. The animal that animagi took represented their inner selves. Owen’s first change had been that of a large grey wolf and it had remained his favourite since. The older he grew and the more he practised, he was quick to learn he was the first wizard possibly of changing into any animal he wished. There was only one factor that remained the same; the colour of his coat and his eyes that were just as grey. He was still decked-out in his school uniform as he had come straight from class to blow off a bit of pent-up steam and energy.
His emerald and silver tie glinted in the soft sunlight and his white shirt was pristine -- apart from a small speck of blood on the tip of his collar. For a change, it wasn’t human; he had killed a small deer to help with the stress-relief. The male advanced forward, coming into the view of the students who ventured outside after class and many were too afraid to even look at him.
Owen had a reputation that had taken him some time to build. The castle feared him, they were intimidated by him -- and it was no wonder. At six feet and four inches with a body that consisted of pure muscle, it was easy to see how he could have that effect on people. Not only that, he was a cruel, arrogant and selfish man. He had done things many people wouldn’t even think about in their wildest fantasies and he had done them without batting a thickly-lashed eyelid. Part of him had died long ago and somehow, it was as if he had ceased to feel empathy for others. He tortured, he killed, he ridiculed… and he didn’t care. Misery loves company and he was as miserable as they came. The Slytherin continued up the short path, replying to those that greeted him, completely ignoring those he didn’t know or rather relieved were purely irrelevant. Something that did grasp his attention however, was the sight of a wolf pup and a person walking alongside it as though it was the norm.
He had heard tales of the girl and the animal, although truth be told, he had never paid much attention. Either he was involved in his Quidditch, schoolwork, or general terrorising of the other students to give a damn. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing his left forearm that was littered in a sleeve of tattoos. He had charmed it to conceal the Dark Mark, although the actual ink was real. Owen had always had an affinity for wolves, and the cub was no different. Even he couldn’t ignore cute animals.
