(no subject)
Who: Fenrir, Ron
Where: Snowdonia, Wales
When: January 23, 2001
Status: Complete
The moon was on the rise. Greyback could feel its full and bloated pull. Not yet, not yet. Soonish he'd have to go and find the pack; his boys wouldn't hunt until he gave the go ahead. Was he avoiding it? He didn't like to think so, but the high-handed way he'd been treated by the Ministry still rankled him, and he wasn't looking forward to this full moon quite as much as he had last month's. Last month had been about freedom, about allowing the boys to just give themselves over to the beasts within and run wild through the night in the way creatures such as them were meant to. Oh, this month they would get to wet their maws with fresh blood, and would howl and snarl and gnash their teeth, but they were doing it at the Ministry's discretion. Fenrir had come to realize he didn't much like being aimed like a weapon, like a thing, with no thought or feeling of its own.We were meant for more than this. That old familiar black rage rose inside him, and it had nothing to do with the moon.
And so he was here, on this isolated land, alone but for slate, grass, and a solitary tree. The mountains and crags and grey skies suited his mood- rough, jagged, dark, and dangerous. He wanted to run along the lake and hear his claws skitter on the grey slate and feel them tear the grass beneath them, to lift his head and howl and hear it echo through the crags and caverns. He wanted to ravage and savage as instinct pushed him to, and consequences be damned. He knew that instead, as the sky grew ever darker, he would go to the designated spot, and hunt the designated prey. Maybe his pack didn't know yet that they were just as ruled by the wizards as ever, but the knowledge filled Fenrir's head with disgust, and his heart with murderous fury. He'd do his job well tonight, he knew. It only infuriated him more.
You could shift now, a voice inside him whispered, just to get a taste. The wizards have no idea what you are capable of. The area was empty; Fenrir could see no one for miles. Why not?.
He reached just below the surface of his mind, and felt the fur and claws moving restlessly within him. It would be a simple matter to call the beast up. Fenrir took a deep breath, and felt the claws break the skin on his hands. He felt the muzzle pushing through the bones of his face. Sweet agony, pure and perfect. Becoming. With the beast emerging from him, his senses sharpened further; already superhuman, now they became supernatural. A faint breeze shifted through the air, and he inhaled deeply.
And smelt something unexpected. Well, wasn't that interesting. Human. They must be well-concealed- his eyes revealed nothing. He sniffed again, scenting the air around him. Oho, even better. Wizard. He closed his eyes, pinpointing the direction of that surprising scent. After a few moments, he opened them once again, and grinned broadly for the first time in nearly a month.
Quietly, quietly, now... He made his way, silent and stealthy, over to the lonely tree, so close to the lake's edge. When he was just a few feet away, he paused, trying to spot the human. There. A flash of red among all the grey. He would have been well hidden, too, had not that hair given him away. Slowly, slowly, he crept up on the young male until he was inches away. He leaned in close to the human's ear, and snarled softly.
Where: Snowdonia, Wales
When: January 23, 2001
Status: Complete
The moon was on the rise. Greyback could feel its full and bloated pull. Not yet, not yet. Soonish he'd have to go and find the pack; his boys wouldn't hunt until he gave the go ahead. Was he avoiding it? He didn't like to think so, but the high-handed way he'd been treated by the Ministry still rankled him, and he wasn't looking forward to this full moon quite as much as he had last month's. Last month had been about freedom, about allowing the boys to just give themselves over to the beasts within and run wild through the night in the way creatures such as them were meant to. Oh, this month they would get to wet their maws with fresh blood, and would howl and snarl and gnash their teeth, but they were doing it at the Ministry's discretion. Fenrir had come to realize he didn't much like being aimed like a weapon, like a thing, with no thought or feeling of its own.We were meant for more than this. That old familiar black rage rose inside him, and it had nothing to do with the moon.
And so he was here, on this isolated land, alone but for slate, grass, and a solitary tree. The mountains and crags and grey skies suited his mood- rough, jagged, dark, and dangerous. He wanted to run along the lake and hear his claws skitter on the grey slate and feel them tear the grass beneath them, to lift his head and howl and hear it echo through the crags and caverns. He wanted to ravage and savage as instinct pushed him to, and consequences be damned. He knew that instead, as the sky grew ever darker, he would go to the designated spot, and hunt the designated prey. Maybe his pack didn't know yet that they were just as ruled by the wizards as ever, but the knowledge filled Fenrir's head with disgust, and his heart with murderous fury. He'd do his job well tonight, he knew. It only infuriated him more.
You could shift now, a voice inside him whispered, just to get a taste. The wizards have no idea what you are capable of. The area was empty; Fenrir could see no one for miles. Why not?.
He reached just below the surface of his mind, and felt the fur and claws moving restlessly within him. It would be a simple matter to call the beast up. Fenrir took a deep breath, and felt the claws break the skin on his hands. He felt the muzzle pushing through the bones of his face. Sweet agony, pure and perfect. Becoming. With the beast emerging from him, his senses sharpened further; already superhuman, now they became supernatural. A faint breeze shifted through the air, and he inhaled deeply.
And smelt something unexpected. Well, wasn't that interesting. Human. They must be well-concealed- his eyes revealed nothing. He sniffed again, scenting the air around him. Oho, even better. Wizard. He closed his eyes, pinpointing the direction of that surprising scent. After a few moments, he opened them once again, and grinned broadly for the first time in nearly a month.
Quietly, quietly, now... He made his way, silent and stealthy, over to the lonely tree, so close to the lake's edge. When he was just a few feet away, he paused, trying to spot the human. There. A flash of red among all the grey. He would have been well hidden, too, had not that hair given him away. Slowly, slowly, he crept up on the young male until he was inches away. He leaned in close to the human's ear, and snarled softly.