[Harry Potter] [Godric/Salazar] Morning Moon
Title: Morning Moon
Subject: Harry Potter | Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin.
Rating: PG
Summary: The smell of blood is thick in the air, fighting and pushing at Godric's senses.
Notes: For this prompt. I've already got another idea for this verse for another prompt :33
Day 3; Prompt 3.
The smell of blood is thick in the air, fighting and pushing at Godric's senses. He stamps it down, ignores the bite in his mind that begs with his less human side, lightens his step and listens for the crunch of twigs. He knows he's being followed, he might be human right now, might be on two legs and not quite as inconspicuous as he could be, but his better senses still linger, can still hear the gentle snap of wood beneath his stalker's feet.
As he gets closer to the source of the smell, his stalker speeds up, faster steps, quicker steps until he's barely six feet away. Godric doesn't turn round, doesn't glance over his shoulder or let him know he's noticed in any way.
There's bodies lying in a clearing, three bodies, blood splattered everywhere, the ground, the trees, everything is covered. The smell's so strong that it's tough not to shift, he can feel his fingers aching, his jaw clenched tight to hold back the canines. His follower's still on the edge of the clearing though and finally, finally, Godric turns.
A man's standing in the shadow of a tree, tall and skinny and pale, almost pale enough to shine in the moonlight.
"So, huh, I guess I have to explain that this," Godric says, gesturing vaguely and the corpses. "Was absolutely not me. I'm not that messy." He pauses. "Or a killer, for that matter."
"I know," the man says, moving towards Godric. He's too close, right up in Godric's personal space before Godic can get a whiff of him, get a hint of the slightly off smell of him that gives him away as a vampire. "What are you?"
"Um, I'm Godric." He raises an eyebrow, shuffles his feet and hopes he's not just stepped in blood. "But I'm a werewolf if that's what you're asking." The man sneers, curls his upper lip because of course he thinks he's better than Godric, of course. When Godric crosses his arms over his chest, the man smirks. "I figure this is your mess."
"No," the man says, voice soft and gentle, his body leaning in as he stares. "It's too messy to be one of ours. Not violent enough to be one of yours." Godric coughs. "There's no claw marks, no bite marks, I had hoped you knew who did it."
"I don't." Godric shrugs. "But I'm going to find out." He shifts before the man can say anything else, shakes his head to wick away the strange stiffness in his limbs after a shift. The man is outright smiling now, almost too cruelly to really count as a smile. As a wolf, Godric can smell him better, can pick apart the subtleties of his scent, the metallic air to him, the smell of death and cold that lingers. It's strong against the overpowering smell of blood, and it lingers with Godric even as he runs through the forest on paws this time, not feet.
He won't mention the vampire to the council, but he'll definitely assure them it wasn't a vampire's kill.
Subject: Harry Potter | Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin.
Rating: PG
Summary: The smell of blood is thick in the air, fighting and pushing at Godric's senses.
Notes: For this prompt. I've already got another idea for this verse for another prompt :33
Day 3; Prompt 3.
The smell of blood is thick in the air, fighting and pushing at Godric's senses. He stamps it down, ignores the bite in his mind that begs with his less human side, lightens his step and listens for the crunch of twigs. He knows he's being followed, he might be human right now, might be on two legs and not quite as inconspicuous as he could be, but his better senses still linger, can still hear the gentle snap of wood beneath his stalker's feet.
As he gets closer to the source of the smell, his stalker speeds up, faster steps, quicker steps until he's barely six feet away. Godric doesn't turn round, doesn't glance over his shoulder or let him know he's noticed in any way.
There's bodies lying in a clearing, three bodies, blood splattered everywhere, the ground, the trees, everything is covered. The smell's so strong that it's tough not to shift, he can feel his fingers aching, his jaw clenched tight to hold back the canines. His follower's still on the edge of the clearing though and finally, finally, Godric turns.
A man's standing in the shadow of a tree, tall and skinny and pale, almost pale enough to shine in the moonlight.
"So, huh, I guess I have to explain that this," Godric says, gesturing vaguely and the corpses. "Was absolutely not me. I'm not that messy." He pauses. "Or a killer, for that matter."
"I know," the man says, moving towards Godric. He's too close, right up in Godric's personal space before Godic can get a whiff of him, get a hint of the slightly off smell of him that gives him away as a vampire. "What are you?"
"Um, I'm Godric." He raises an eyebrow, shuffles his feet and hopes he's not just stepped in blood. "But I'm a werewolf if that's what you're asking." The man sneers, curls his upper lip because of course he thinks he's better than Godric, of course. When Godric crosses his arms over his chest, the man smirks. "I figure this is your mess."
"No," the man says, voice soft and gentle, his body leaning in as he stares. "It's too messy to be one of ours. Not violent enough to be one of yours." Godric coughs. "There's no claw marks, no bite marks, I had hoped you knew who did it."
"I don't." Godric shrugs. "But I'm going to find out." He shifts before the man can say anything else, shakes his head to wick away the strange stiffness in his limbs after a shift. The man is outright smiling now, almost too cruelly to really count as a smile. As a wolf, Godric can smell him better, can pick apart the subtleties of his scent, the metallic air to him, the smell of death and cold that lingers. It's strong against the overpowering smell of blood, and it lingers with Godric even as he runs through the forest on paws this time, not feet.
He won't mention the vampire to the council, but he'll definitely assure them it wasn't a vampire's kill.