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Hogsmeade Village  June 2017

Fenrir leaned his shoulder into the brickwork of the building as he stared down at his phone and squinted at the little screen as he tried to read the messages popping up against the glare of the sun. Glancing up and about the square in Hogsmeade there didn’t seem to be many other places that offered shade besides ones that were currently occupied, or the currently over-crowded stores. Fenrir was not a fan of the village in the summer time; all the local wizarding children were on break from school, and Hogsmeade was just as if not more crowded than it was during the winter holidays. That, and it was terribly hot outside. 

He hated having to leave home, but the last time he sent someone else shopping for food, they came back with more candies than real groceries. So he’d had to come do it himself. Well, not all by himself; technically he’d brought along one of the older kids to help him carry things back home. Not keeping good track of the teen had led to losing sight of them. Though Fenrir figured he’d know where to find them. 

Responding to the last couple messages sent Fenrir shoved his phone into his pocket and headed directly towards the candy store, weaving through the slow moving groups of people that lingered about the main square of Hogsmeade. Honestly, a couple old buildings, a dinky bar and sub-par candy store wasn’t anything to gawk at. Fenrir didn’t really understand how the place drew so many tourists. Regardless he pushed his way into the too crowded candy shop and looked over the crowded aisles, looking for a familiar head. 

Once he’d corralled the younger werewolf and practically dragged them from the candy store, they could finally go food shopping. The boy was less than pleased, walking briskly towards the grocer with a sour face. Fenrir trailed after the child, not feeling a need to keep pace with him. His eyes scanned over faces as they often did; there wasn’t much else to look at, being so tall. An oddly familiar face made the man look twice, and he slowed his pace until he stopped entirely. 

Was that. Lyall’s boy? Remus? Fenrir stared; it was odd, how strikingly the boy looked like his father at a younger age. The boy he’d bitten well over a decade ago. A warning, more like punishment, for Lyall’s foul words against his kind. It was strange to see that face, so many years later. No longer a terrified little child. Of course. He could be mistaken. It could just be someone who looked like Lyall’s son. Really, what were the chances?

Curiosity was getting the better of him though. Fenrir began to approach the man, pushing his way through the groups of people to make his way towards Remus. By the time Fenrir had made his way to Remus, the child that had been with him had found his way back to Fenrir. Looking just as sulky, now mad that he’d not only been dragged from the candy store, but that this whole grocery ordeal was being stalled. 

Day 03 @ 0700 Location: Southlake, Matt’s Home

He woke up in agony. His shoulder was one giant burning throb and the rest of him didn’t feel so great either. One look down at his dirty self and he knew he’d feel even worse when his wife saw him passed out bloodied on her nice white sheets. Least they took off the comforter. Gritting his teeth he swung his legs off the bed and forced himself to sit up, gritting his teeth as a new wave of pain exploded through his body as his shoulder protested. Fuck I hate getting shot.

He stood up slowly, but found he ha to stay slightly hunched, his shoulder refusing to allow him his full height. He padded slowly into the bathroom and pushed the door shut. He kicked out of his pants, using his one arm as little as possible, then moved to the toilet. After relieving himself (God how long had it been since he’d had a piss?) he moved to turn on the shower, letting the water warm up before he stepped in.

It wasn’t the first time he’d ever washed away blood. He’d seen his fair share of bloodbaths after all, and been injured a time or two. This was the first time he hadn’t woken in a proper hospital though, and the reason why was almost enough to make him wish that bullet had just taken him out. He didn’t want to be one of those things. He didn’t want to put the people helping him in danger. Marshall. JD.

He turned, tipping his head back and scrubbed at his hair, the removal of grime helping even if his shoulder didn’t appreciate it. When he finally climbed back out of the shower, he felt clean if a bit woozy. Determined to finish though, he moved to the sink to brush his teeth and comb his hair back. It brought some normalcy to fucked up world shuffling beyond the walls of his house. He was a righty, so shaving was out. Grimacing at the stubble he finally turned and moved back to his bedroom. He didn’t want to crawl back onto the sheets. Not as they were but he was too weak to change them. He stared indecisively at the bed, swaying faintly until he realized he was still wearing just a towel.