Surrender to the wolf...
Wolves aren't bothered by human emotions.
It was something he was still getting used to. The pressure placed upon his mind as the moon waxed to full left him feeling tense, irritable, angry.
Prone to rage.
Three hours before sunset he found himself in an argument with another, nameless patron over having had his foot trod upon by said patron. It gave him something else to do. Something else to think about. Something other than the someone who had re-entered his life the day before Halloween and Rabastan's humiliation as Bar turned him not only female but some sort of cat-like creature too. He had no awareness of their presence, but when that person caused problems for someone else, he came to realise that he wasn't alone any more.
His brother was here now. And he felt violated. Which made him afraid, and that made him angry. Which made him snappish.
And which led to the argument.
Ten minutes of heated complaints, curses and groans of pain.
And then he could resume his routine, waiting for sundown as the anger receded and the fear renewed.
There was no god. No god. No devil. Nothing of the sort that Muggles believe in. If there was a god up in the heavens and a demon living in some underworld with a lagoon of lava in its centre Rodolphus would not be here. The god would have struck down Rodolphus and the devil would have claimed what's left.
Rabastan would be free of his brother.
Free.
What time was it? He looked about for one of the myriad number of timepieces scattered about the bar that registered time in a way anyone regardless of world could understand.
Five o'clock. It was now November and that meant sundown.
He got up, made his way, avoided the patrons.
There was something he had to do, ring or no ring. And outside was where it had to be done.
Door open. Door close.
Merlin it was cold.
It would give him something to focus on as he walked around the lake that was decorated with its ship towards the forest, heading deeper and deeper until he was satisfied he was far enough away to be no real danger to anyone.
The wolfsbane is not to be trusted. One day it could fail. Rabastan was paranoid enough to believe that.
He stood in a clearing, and looked up at the darkening sky. He couldn't see the moon it was blocked by the trees, but that was no matter. He didn't need to see it to feel it.
The thing about the change is that somehow, some way, clothes are preserved in what some call "wizard space" while the transformed human runs about in animal form. There was no need for Rabastan to disrobe and kick the clothes he shed underneath a bush to be collected later; they would not be harmed by his change.
But he did it, because tonight he intended to surrender to the change.
Surrender to the animal.
And just run, as a wolf, forgetting all about human cares, worries, fears for at least a few hours, until sunrise chased away the moon.
Run. Forget human thoughts and feelings.
Because wolves, after all, aren't bothered by human emotions...
It was something he was still getting used to. The pressure placed upon his mind as the moon waxed to full left him feeling tense, irritable, angry.
Prone to rage.
Three hours before sunset he found himself in an argument with another, nameless patron over having had his foot trod upon by said patron. It gave him something else to do. Something else to think about. Something other than the someone who had re-entered his life the day before Halloween and Rabastan's humiliation as Bar turned him not only female but some sort of cat-like creature too. He had no awareness of their presence, but when that person caused problems for someone else, he came to realise that he wasn't alone any more.
His brother was here now. And he felt violated. Which made him afraid, and that made him angry. Which made him snappish.
And which led to the argument.
Ten minutes of heated complaints, curses and groans of pain.
And then he could resume his routine, waiting for sundown as the anger receded and the fear renewed.
There was no god. No god. No devil. Nothing of the sort that Muggles believe in. If there was a god up in the heavens and a demon living in some underworld with a lagoon of lava in its centre Rodolphus would not be here. The god would have struck down Rodolphus and the devil would have claimed what's left.
Rabastan would be free of his brother.
Free.
What time was it? He looked about for one of the myriad number of timepieces scattered about the bar that registered time in a way anyone regardless of world could understand.
Five o'clock. It was now November and that meant sundown.
He got up, made his way, avoided the patrons.
There was something he had to do, ring or no ring. And outside was where it had to be done.
Door open. Door close.
Merlin it was cold.
It would give him something to focus on as he walked around the lake that was decorated with its ship towards the forest, heading deeper and deeper until he was satisfied he was far enough away to be no real danger to anyone.
The wolfsbane is not to be trusted. One day it could fail. Rabastan was paranoid enough to believe that.
He stood in a clearing, and looked up at the darkening sky. He couldn't see the moon it was blocked by the trees, but that was no matter. He didn't need to see it to feel it.
The thing about the change is that somehow, some way, clothes are preserved in what some call "wizard space" while the transformed human runs about in animal form. There was no need for Rabastan to disrobe and kick the clothes he shed underneath a bush to be collected later; they would not be harmed by his change.
But he did it, because tonight he intended to surrender to the change.
Surrender to the animal.
And just run, as a wolf, forgetting all about human cares, worries, fears for at least a few hours, until sunrise chased away the moon.
Run. Forget human thoughts and feelings.
Because wolves, after all, aren't bothered by human emotions...