Who killed Tabaqui (4/?)
Title: Who killed Tabaqui
Author:marlowe78
Rating: PG 13
Characters: Dean, Sam
Word count: a lot
Beta: soncnica
Spoilers: for s6, the basics
Warnings: Language, some blood is spilled.
Summary: Do not mess with Mowgli's brother. You can be pretty sure his teeth are sharp
Edit: Thanks to caluk, I now have a header! Yeah!
a/n: I got my very first art-present, whoohoo!
caluk got her creative shoes on and made me this awesome manip of Dean/Wolf! Go over, look at it and let her know how you like it!
Also, if you're interested in what Dean looks like as a wolf in my head, I've found a pretty damn good picture of the perfect wolf for my story.
Chapter 3
The pizza was good. Not fantastic, but pretty good. Dean seemed to agree, considering the gusto with which he devoured the crust that Sam fed him.
When Amy came over to get the pay, she gave Dean a little pizza-roll, of course after asking Sam if that was ok.
“You don’t have a collar for him? You need one, it’s the law. They were lax about that a few years ago, but now we got a whole bunch of homeless dogs around here and people are getting real antsy about that kinda thing. There is lotsa folk out who fine you or take your dog away if you don’t have identification for him. My boyfriend’s shepherd was even taken to the pond! She just sat outside and waited for him to buy some milk and they snatched her away, even though she had a collar! That’s nine-twenty-five”
Sam paled. While paying, thoughts about Dean being taken by some dog-snatchers played in his head. Dean wouldn’t just let someone take him, no matter which form he was in. If he bit somebody, it would be more than just bad. Maybe the werewolf-infection worked like it did with the vampire-infection? That if Dean would bite a human, that was it? He’d have to do something to prevent that. Maybe some sheet of paper saying he was indeed a dog, not a wolf, because if Sam remembered correctly, it wasn’t allowed to keep a pet-wolf. You needed permits and you weren’t to take them into public places. He’d at the very least need a collar for Dean. “Where… is there a place I can buy dog-stuff ‘round here?”
“Yeah, sure. There’s a PetMart north of town. Got all you need” she took the money and thanked Sam for the tip, then turned around to answer the phone. Sam didn’t really take notice anymore, too busy thinking about a way to buy a dog-collar for his brother without him noticing. Would he need to buy a leash too? And where could he pick up some meat? He couldn’t feed Dean steak all the time, wolves needed intestines and pouch and little of muscle-meat. An ice-box was probably a good idea as well.
***
The wolf was full of energy. The world town he and his Sam were in smelled so strange, so wrong. Cold, like stone and steal and smoke and something burning, different. No green smells, no flowers, no trees. And it smelled like not wolf dog. Familiar in one way, so, so wrong in another. He picked up male pee here and there and because he was a wolf, and there was absolutely no other wolf out here and certainly no dog which could take him in a fight, he peed in top of their marks. He peed a lot. There were a lot of marks.
But it was necessary! Marking is important, he needed to tell everyone that he was here, that he was the boss around here, and just how strong he was.
The Sam was making huffing noises again, ever since the first ten markings. “Dean, man, there can’t still be piss left in ya. Stop with this crap, I’m tired, lets get back.” The wolf was annoyed. Sam was pack, family, blood his brother, so he could very well help him!
But instead of marking with the wolf, he just huffed again. Maybe… the wolf sniffed at Sam, who shoved him away. Rude! But it’d been enough time to confirm that his brother wasn’t injured and able to lift his leg. So clearly, Sam was just lazy! With an annoyed grumble, the wolf checked one more marking.
Right. This one wasn’t worth the bother. He turned, ready to follow the Sam who’d taken the lead and was a few paces away from him when suddenly…
Desire, love, lust pooled in his guts, twisted his sense. He turned around, trying to catch the scent again. There. There. There! His nose hit the ground and his teeth clicked, he smacked his lips and licked the sidewalk ground, taking in the delicious smell and taste of pure love. She was lovely, he just knew that. She was in her prime, three years old, healthy. She smelled and tasted fantastic, and it was only her pee he’d tasted. How much more wonderful would this awesome she-wolf be when he met her in person?
The wolf followed the scent, nothing could stop him. He knew the Sam wasn’t agreeing, but he didn’t listen. He heard him call his name, over and over, and he sounded worried, but the wolf was in love, and nothing would be able to keep him from his sweetheart.
Nothing. Not even pack, family Sam.
“Dean, Dean, stop, no, Dean, come back…Dean!” The voice from behind got lower, went further and further away. It didn’t matter to the wolf, not that much. He didn’t want to leave the Sam, but he couldn’t stay.
It didn’t take long for him to get so far away that he couldn’t hear the voice anymore. Didn’t matter. He’d find his pack in the morning. There were more important things to do tonight.
He’d been following the sweet smell for a while now. The air was filled with love and pure beauty and the marks of his lovely girl were more pronounced, closer together. He was pretty sure she was living around here. He’d find her, he’d… there!
A house, garden, fence den with a lot of grass in front and some weird kind of shrubbery stood just inside the huge cloud of the love-smell he’d followed. It smelled so wonderful, so pretty, that he needed to tell his love, his female, how much he loved her. One jump took him over the shrubs onto the soft green grass. He raised his head high into the night and struck a note, a deep tone that got higher and louder. A song so full of love and longing, of sweet promises and passion, and he sang it for her. Only for her. He told her how wonderful she smelled and how they’d go out, hunting together and play in the fields, how he’d lick her and how he’d protect her from anything.
He was just starting on his second verse when the lair of his sweetheart opened. Yes, she’d heard him! The wolf jumped up, but it was only a human who came out of the opening.
“Shut up you useless mutt!” he screamed and the wolf flattened his ears. This sounded so wrong, not at all like his song. He growled in his throat. Behind the human, he could smell his love. She was in there, he just… he needed only to get past that human to find her.
But the human huffed and turned around and the wolf knew the den-opening door would be closed soon. He might run and get in? But he was a bit afraid of the man. This human wasn’t nice and small and sweet-smelling of food, like the tiny one from a while ago had smelled. He smelled big and sweaty and dangerous. Like Sam smelled, only not pack. The door was closing!
No!
He raised his head again, calling her. She could come to him, she lived with this human, the man wouldn’t hurt her. So he called out to her, pleading and pledging his love to her for eternity - or at least for tonight.
“That’s it, SHUT UP!” the human yelled and he grabbed something. The wolf couldn’t see very well, but he knew the man had a thing in his paws and suddenly, something hard struck him at the side of his head.
He yelped and another hard thing hit him, this time against the shoulder. He retreated, slowly, sadly, turned around once more. This time, something cold, wet hit him on his head and he yelped again, scrambled to get away. Something flew at him, hit his backside and yiffing and yelping he ran. The human was mean, and his darling wouldn’t come out, and this wasn’t worth getting injured.
Love was fine and good, but he’d retreat, come back later when the human wasn’t there. Another jump and the wolf was back in the streets again, running away.
He didn’t run for long. The experience had shaken him, but he was still very much in love. The summer-air picked up scents so much easier and everything smelled like mating, lust and sex.
So after a few sprints, he slowed down and sat. Maybe he could call her again? Maybe she’d be able to come out to him, or maybe, if he told her, sang to her some more she would come to him in the morning? Yes, that would be it. She would come, because he smelled that she was ready. And what better mate than him, right? He was strong, he was young and he was healthy, and there was no bigger male around here, no better mate anywhere.
The wolf sat and howled again, a sad, lonely song only for his sweetheart. A song about wind in the mountains, snow in the trees and birds and streams and grass all over, only for them.
This time, though, his voice wasn’t the only one around. This time, there was an answer.
It was an ugly howl. No love, no finesse in it, and it was also very much not a wolf’s song. This belonged to the wrong smells he’d tried to erase with his own markings, the not quite wolf dogs that lived here. The howl turned into a growl and it was answered by others.
The language was different than his, sharper and at the same time more mumbled. But he could make out more than one voice. Barking! Wolves only barked when they were with their pack, used in play and sometimes to threaten another away from the food. But not like this, not that loud and rude and pointless.
He growled and stood, hackles raised, tail up high, ears pricked towards the threat.
From the darkness of the buildings, three not wolves dogs stepped into view. They were ugly, that much the wolf could see. The leading not wolf dog had short fur, which would be fine in a weather like this, but would mean death by freezing in any other. They were all male, his nose told him, reeking of testosterone and urine, believing themselves big and strong. The leader was black, blacker than the wolf himself, with some brown patches in the face and on his legs. He had a broad face and a broad snout and he had floppy ears! No wonder his accent was all weird! When he tried to stalk around him, the wolf realized that the lead-dog also had no tail, just a tiny stump. It was enough to tell he was pissed and pretty much sure he’d win a fight, the tiny thing rose up in the air and the fur on the dog’s neck and hip was bristling.
The other two dogs where typical followers. One was tiny, also with a short tail and short fur, his coat was mostly white with brown and black splotches, one ear was standing up, one flopped like the leader’s ears. He was growling, rather pathetically. His tiny legs were bouncy! What were these? No wolf has bouncy legs, no wolf would bounce when he’s facing a strange male. The wolf dismissed this tiny creature. He wouldn’t be worth his breath.
The second follower was quite a bit smaller than the wolf, set somewhere between the leader’s size and that of the tiny dog. He was dangerous, that much the wolf could tell. His coat was black, his tail was bowed, nearly curled over his back, his snout was already grizzled-white. He, too, had floppy ears, which, like the face, were marred by scars from various fights. He didn’t look very impressive, but he had that certain sparkle in his eyes that said he was smart, even if not strong. This one would take advantage of every weakness, be it that of the wolf or of his own leader.
Those three weren’t a pack. They lived together, but that was all. There was no order in their lives, the leader was only leader by force and lack of resistance, and the wolf was sure that they fought over meat, actually harming each other. Even if his nose hadn’t told him already he’d have known it now: these weren’t wolves, didn’t act like wolves.
They wouldn’t be fighting like wolves either.
The leader stepped around him, insulting the wolf with his whole body, telling him in no uncertain words that this was his district. Normally, the wolf would retreat. This wasn’t his home, his pack wasn’t around and there was no meat to fight for or family to defend.
But there was this delicious girl, not far away, and he wanted her. Wanted her with all his heart, he wouldn’t let those punks get in his way!
So he took a stand, braced his legs, curled his toes to get a good grip on the hard surface of the ground for quick movements. He raised his hair some more and growled deep, deep in his chest, baring his teeth and snarling, tongue stuck out between the front teeth. He stared at the leader with all the fury he had in him, daring him to make a move. This situation could still be handled without blood, from his point of view. No use in anyone losing his live today.
The leading dog stalked around him some more, not backing down, not giving an inch and the wolf realized that no, this wouldn’t end well.
Chapter 5
Author:marlowe78
Rating: PG 13
Characters: Dean, Sam
Word count: a lot
Beta: soncnica
Spoilers: for s6, the basics
Warnings: Language, some blood is spilled.
Summary: Do not mess with Mowgli's brother. You can be pretty sure his teeth are sharp
Edit: Thanks to caluk, I now have a header! Yeah!
a/n: I got my very first art-present, whoohoo!
caluk got her creative shoes on and made me this awesome manip of Dean/Wolf! Go over, look at it and let her know how you like it!
Also, if you're interested in what Dean looks like as a wolf in my head, I've found a pretty damn good picture of the perfect wolf for my story.
Chapter 3
The pizza was good. Not fantastic, but pretty good. Dean seemed to agree, considering the gusto with which he devoured the crust that Sam fed him.
When Amy came over to get the pay, she gave Dean a little pizza-roll, of course after asking Sam if that was ok.
“You don’t have a collar for him? You need one, it’s the law. They were lax about that a few years ago, but now we got a whole bunch of homeless dogs around here and people are getting real antsy about that kinda thing. There is lotsa folk out who fine you or take your dog away if you don’t have identification for him. My boyfriend’s shepherd was even taken to the pond! She just sat outside and waited for him to buy some milk and they snatched her away, even though she had a collar! That’s nine-twenty-five”
Sam paled. While paying, thoughts about Dean being taken by some dog-snatchers played in his head. Dean wouldn’t just let someone take him, no matter which form he was in. If he bit somebody, it would be more than just bad. Maybe the werewolf-infection worked like it did with the vampire-infection? That if Dean would bite a human, that was it? He’d have to do something to prevent that. Maybe some sheet of paper saying he was indeed a dog, not a wolf, because if Sam remembered correctly, it wasn’t allowed to keep a pet-wolf. You needed permits and you weren’t to take them into public places. He’d at the very least need a collar for Dean. “Where… is there a place I can buy dog-stuff ‘round here?”
“Yeah, sure. There’s a PetMart north of town. Got all you need” she took the money and thanked Sam for the tip, then turned around to answer the phone. Sam didn’t really take notice anymore, too busy thinking about a way to buy a dog-collar for his brother without him noticing. Would he need to buy a leash too? And where could he pick up some meat? He couldn’t feed Dean steak all the time, wolves needed intestines and pouch and little of muscle-meat. An ice-box was probably a good idea as well.
***
The wolf was full of energy. The world town he and his Sam were in smelled so strange, so wrong. Cold, like stone and steal and smoke and something burning, different. No green smells, no flowers, no trees. And it smelled like not wolf dog. Familiar in one way, so, so wrong in another. He picked up male pee here and there and because he was a wolf, and there was absolutely no other wolf out here and certainly no dog which could take him in a fight, he peed in top of their marks. He peed a lot. There were a lot of marks.
But it was necessary! Marking is important, he needed to tell everyone that he was here, that he was the boss around here, and just how strong he was.
The Sam was making huffing noises again, ever since the first ten markings. “Dean, man, there can’t still be piss left in ya. Stop with this crap, I’m tired, lets get back.” The wolf was annoyed. Sam was pack, family, blood his brother, so he could very well help him!
But instead of marking with the wolf, he just huffed again. Maybe… the wolf sniffed at Sam, who shoved him away. Rude! But it’d been enough time to confirm that his brother wasn’t injured and able to lift his leg. So clearly, Sam was just lazy! With an annoyed grumble, the wolf checked one more marking.
Right. This one wasn’t worth the bother. He turned, ready to follow the Sam who’d taken the lead and was a few paces away from him when suddenly…
Desire, love, lust pooled in his guts, twisted his sense. He turned around, trying to catch the scent again. There. There. There! His nose hit the ground and his teeth clicked, he smacked his lips and licked the sidewalk ground, taking in the delicious smell and taste of pure love. She was lovely, he just knew that. She was in her prime, three years old, healthy. She smelled and tasted fantastic, and it was only her pee he’d tasted. How much more wonderful would this awesome she-wolf be when he met her in person?
The wolf followed the scent, nothing could stop him. He knew the Sam wasn’t agreeing, but he didn’t listen. He heard him call his name, over and over, and he sounded worried, but the wolf was in love, and nothing would be able to keep him from his sweetheart.
Nothing. Not even pack, family Sam.
“Dean, Dean, stop, no, Dean, come back…Dean!” The voice from behind got lower, went further and further away. It didn’t matter to the wolf, not that much. He didn’t want to leave the Sam, but he couldn’t stay.
It didn’t take long for him to get so far away that he couldn’t hear the voice anymore. Didn’t matter. He’d find his pack in the morning. There were more important things to do tonight.
He’d been following the sweet smell for a while now. The air was filled with love and pure beauty and the marks of his lovely girl were more pronounced, closer together. He was pretty sure she was living around here. He’d find her, he’d… there!
A house, garden, fence den with a lot of grass in front and some weird kind of shrubbery stood just inside the huge cloud of the love-smell he’d followed. It smelled so wonderful, so pretty, that he needed to tell his love, his female, how much he loved her. One jump took him over the shrubs onto the soft green grass. He raised his head high into the night and struck a note, a deep tone that got higher and louder. A song so full of love and longing, of sweet promises and passion, and he sang it for her. Only for her. He told her how wonderful she smelled and how they’d go out, hunting together and play in the fields, how he’d lick her and how he’d protect her from anything.
He was just starting on his second verse when the lair of his sweetheart opened. Yes, she’d heard him! The wolf jumped up, but it was only a human who came out of the opening.
“Shut up you useless mutt!” he screamed and the wolf flattened his ears. This sounded so wrong, not at all like his song. He growled in his throat. Behind the human, he could smell his love. She was in there, he just… he needed only to get past that human to find her.
But the human huffed and turned around and the wolf knew the den-opening door would be closed soon. He might run and get in? But he was a bit afraid of the man. This human wasn’t nice and small and sweet-smelling of food, like the tiny one from a while ago had smelled. He smelled big and sweaty and dangerous. Like Sam smelled, only not pack. The door was closing!
No!
He raised his head again, calling her. She could come to him, she lived with this human, the man wouldn’t hurt her. So he called out to her, pleading and pledging his love to her for eternity - or at least for tonight.
“That’s it, SHUT UP!” the human yelled and he grabbed something. The wolf couldn’t see very well, but he knew the man had a thing in his paws and suddenly, something hard struck him at the side of his head.
He yelped and another hard thing hit him, this time against the shoulder. He retreated, slowly, sadly, turned around once more. This time, something cold, wet hit him on his head and he yelped again, scrambled to get away. Something flew at him, hit his backside and yiffing and yelping he ran. The human was mean, and his darling wouldn’t come out, and this wasn’t worth getting injured.
Love was fine and good, but he’d retreat, come back later when the human wasn’t there. Another jump and the wolf was back in the streets again, running away.
He didn’t run for long. The experience had shaken him, but he was still very much in love. The summer-air picked up scents so much easier and everything smelled like mating, lust and sex.
So after a few sprints, he slowed down and sat. Maybe he could call her again? Maybe she’d be able to come out to him, or maybe, if he told her, sang to her some more she would come to him in the morning? Yes, that would be it. She would come, because he smelled that she was ready. And what better mate than him, right? He was strong, he was young and he was healthy, and there was no bigger male around here, no better mate anywhere.
The wolf sat and howled again, a sad, lonely song only for his sweetheart. A song about wind in the mountains, snow in the trees and birds and streams and grass all over, only for them.
This time, though, his voice wasn’t the only one around. This time, there was an answer.
It was an ugly howl. No love, no finesse in it, and it was also very much not a wolf’s song. This belonged to the wrong smells he’d tried to erase with his own markings, the not quite wolf dogs that lived here. The howl turned into a growl and it was answered by others.
The language was different than his, sharper and at the same time more mumbled. But he could make out more than one voice. Barking! Wolves only barked when they were with their pack, used in play and sometimes to threaten another away from the food. But not like this, not that loud and rude and pointless.
He growled and stood, hackles raised, tail up high, ears pricked towards the threat.
From the darkness of the buildings, three not wolves dogs stepped into view. They were ugly, that much the wolf could see. The leading not wolf dog had short fur, which would be fine in a weather like this, but would mean death by freezing in any other. They were all male, his nose told him, reeking of testosterone and urine, believing themselves big and strong. The leader was black, blacker than the wolf himself, with some brown patches in the face and on his legs. He had a broad face and a broad snout and he had floppy ears! No wonder his accent was all weird! When he tried to stalk around him, the wolf realized that the lead-dog also had no tail, just a tiny stump. It was enough to tell he was pissed and pretty much sure he’d win a fight, the tiny thing rose up in the air and the fur on the dog’s neck and hip was bristling.
The other two dogs where typical followers. One was tiny, also with a short tail and short fur, his coat was mostly white with brown and black splotches, one ear was standing up, one flopped like the leader’s ears. He was growling, rather pathetically. His tiny legs were bouncy! What were these? No wolf has bouncy legs, no wolf would bounce when he’s facing a strange male. The wolf dismissed this tiny creature. He wouldn’t be worth his breath.
The second follower was quite a bit smaller than the wolf, set somewhere between the leader’s size and that of the tiny dog. He was dangerous, that much the wolf could tell. His coat was black, his tail was bowed, nearly curled over his back, his snout was already grizzled-white. He, too, had floppy ears, which, like the face, were marred by scars from various fights. He didn’t look very impressive, but he had that certain sparkle in his eyes that said he was smart, even if not strong. This one would take advantage of every weakness, be it that of the wolf or of his own leader.
Those three weren’t a pack. They lived together, but that was all. There was no order in their lives, the leader was only leader by force and lack of resistance, and the wolf was sure that they fought over meat, actually harming each other. Even if his nose hadn’t told him already he’d have known it now: these weren’t wolves, didn’t act like wolves.
They wouldn’t be fighting like wolves either.
The leader stepped around him, insulting the wolf with his whole body, telling him in no uncertain words that this was his district. Normally, the wolf would retreat. This wasn’t his home, his pack wasn’t around and there was no meat to fight for or family to defend.
But there was this delicious girl, not far away, and he wanted her. Wanted her with all his heart, he wouldn’t let those punks get in his way!
So he took a stand, braced his legs, curled his toes to get a good grip on the hard surface of the ground for quick movements. He raised his hair some more and growled deep, deep in his chest, baring his teeth and snarling, tongue stuck out between the front teeth. He stared at the leader with all the fury he had in him, daring him to make a move. This situation could still be handled without blood, from his point of view. No use in anyone losing his live today.
The leading dog stalked around him some more, not backing down, not giving an inch and the wolf realized that no, this wouldn’t end well.
Chapter 5