Show Me Your Teeth (7/?) tawabidsJuly 4 2011, 13:33:05 UTC
The silence that followed this statement was so intense that Erik could hear the plop of a fish somehow surviving in the fetid waters below their feet. His brows came together and he dropped his arm. “Your brother is a hunter-priest?”
“Trained. Not ordained,” Raven snapped.
Erik leaned in and sniffed her. “You’re not his blood.”
“Foster siblings,” she said testily. “He found me as a wolf, sleeping in his woodshed when I was seven years old. Convinced his family to take me in. Taught me to hide my transformations from his parents, helped me manage my condition. So I would appreciate if you didn’t get him shanked in a bar fight, friend.”
Erik took a step back, folding his arms. “’Manage your condition’?” he echoed.
She held his gaze.
“You should have a pack,” Erik said. “You’re young and healthy, you’re tough. You could have a good life among us.”
“No thanks,” she looked him up and down again. “And you don’t smell like you’ve been running on the hunting grounds any time recently. On vacation?” she said in a sickly-sweet tone.
Erik huffed at her, stuck his hands in his pockets and stalked away down the jetty. After a moment, Raven’s shoes came thumping after him. She matched his long strides with two quick ones of hers, mimicking his posture with her hands in her coat pockets and her head held high.
“Are you following me?” he snapped when they reached the end of the jetty and she turned in the same direction as him.
She shrugged, “I was going this way anyway.”
Erik stopped and turned to look at her. It all made sense, now - the clean, designer brand clothes, the sculpted hair, the complete lack of even a healthy level of fear around a man she knew was a hunter. She probably transformed less than twice a year, and even then just to scratch the itch. Yet she’d still wanted to visit a known werewolf bar; some part of her didn’t want to repress her true nature any longer.
“Raven.”
They both looked up. About twenty feet away, Charles stood just on the edge of the pool of light cast by a streetlamp. He was a monochromatic sepia under the harsh orange glow, but Erik remembered the sharpness of those blue eyes when he’d seen them for the first time. He felt his heart race - how’d he get so close? Why didn’t you notice him? - and realised Charles had approached them from upwind. Hunter’s instincts through and through. Untrustworthy. Deadly.
And yet he was looking at his sister - and at Erik - without a shred of malice. The contradiction jarred Erik. He forced himself to pull his gaze away from the man and turn back to Raven.
“I better go,” she said.
“Take care of yourself,” Erik held out his hand and she shook it.
Charles waited until she’d jogged over to him before he gave Erik a two-finger salute. Erik wrinkled his nose in return, but as he went to leave, Charles called across the concrete. “You’re looking for Shaw, aren’t you?”
Erik froze. He turned slowly to look over his shoulder. “That’s my business,” he replied in a low voice.
“I know where he’s gone.”
Erik rumbled into the silence. Raven had linked her arm through the crook of her brother’s elbow, two inches taller than him in her heels. Erik had never met a hunter who wasn’t built like a tank - but then, Charles hadn’t exactly come out of his last fight looking like a winner. Perhaps that’s why he’d never been ordained. A dropout from murderer school.
Charles nodded to him, “We’ll be at the Sunrise Hotel until checkout time tomorrow. If you’re interested.”
Erik twitched his shoulders and strode off without answering. He kept his ears pricked, though. The man would not sneak up on him again.
Re: Show Me Your Teeth (7/?) tawabidsJuly 4 2011, 22:03:26 UTC
Tawabids, you are awesome. Whenever I see that you've filled something I get so excited, as your work is invariably well plotted, in character, and just beautifully written. This is no exception. Keep up the good work!
“Trained. Not ordained,” Raven snapped.
Erik leaned in and sniffed her. “You’re not his blood.”
“Foster siblings,” she said testily. “He found me as a wolf, sleeping in his woodshed when I was seven years old. Convinced his family to take me in. Taught me to hide my transformations from his parents, helped me manage my condition. So I would appreciate if you didn’t get him shanked in a bar fight, friend.”
Erik took a step back, folding his arms. “’Manage your condition’?” he echoed.
She held his gaze.
“You should have a pack,” Erik said. “You’re young and healthy, you’re tough. You could have a good life among us.”
“No thanks,” she looked him up and down again. “And you don’t smell like you’ve been running on the hunting grounds any time recently. On vacation?” she said in a sickly-sweet tone.
Erik huffed at her, stuck his hands in his pockets and stalked away down the jetty. After a moment, Raven’s shoes came thumping after him. She matched his long strides with two quick ones of hers, mimicking his posture with her hands in her coat pockets and her head held high.
“Are you following me?” he snapped when they reached the end of the jetty and she turned in the same direction as him.
She shrugged, “I was going this way anyway.”
Erik stopped and turned to look at her. It all made sense, now - the clean, designer brand clothes, the sculpted hair, the complete lack of even a healthy level of fear around a man she knew was a hunter. She probably transformed less than twice a year, and even then just to scratch the itch. Yet she’d still wanted to visit a known werewolf bar; some part of her didn’t want to repress her true nature any longer.
“Raven.”
They both looked up. About twenty feet away, Charles stood just on the edge of the pool of light cast by a streetlamp. He was a monochromatic sepia under the harsh orange glow, but Erik remembered the sharpness of those blue eyes when he’d seen them for the first time. He felt his heart race - how’d he get so close? Why didn’t you notice him? - and realised Charles had approached them from upwind. Hunter’s instincts through and through. Untrustworthy. Deadly.
And yet he was looking at his sister - and at Erik - without a shred of malice. The contradiction jarred Erik. He forced himself to pull his gaze away from the man and turn back to Raven.
“I better go,” she said.
“Take care of yourself,” Erik held out his hand and she shook it.
Charles waited until she’d jogged over to him before he gave Erik a two-finger salute. Erik wrinkled his nose in return, but as he went to leave, Charles called across the concrete. “You’re looking for Shaw, aren’t you?”
Erik froze. He turned slowly to look over his shoulder. “That’s my business,” he replied in a low voice.
“I know where he’s gone.”
Erik rumbled into the silence. Raven had linked her arm through the crook of her brother’s elbow, two inches taller than him in her heels. Erik had never met a hunter who wasn’t built like a tank - but then, Charles hadn’t exactly come out of his last fight looking like a winner. Perhaps that’s why he’d never been ordained. A dropout from murderer school.
Charles nodded to him, “We’ll be at the Sunrise Hotel until checkout time tomorrow. If you’re interested.”
Erik twitched his shoulders and strode off without answering. He kept his ears pricked, though. The man would not sneak up on him again.
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I'm eager to find out how you're going to play out the individual relationships.
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