The choice

It was a rather chilly evening as Rise swept the loose dirt away from the front of the tent. She stopped to look up at the line of tents around her and sighed heavily. She had been here for a few months and already she could tell this was the only place she felt safe. When she was waiting on Fenrir, she was humiliated, defeated, and sometimes simply beaten. The younger wolves in the pack would grab at her, poke fun at her, sometimes even kiss her, and then take great amusement when she slapped them. But when she was alone, doing something menial like sweeping dirt away from the front of the tent, when dirt made up the floor of the tent, well it helped to clear her mind.

Her recent escape plan hadn't gone so well, and she sported a bunch of new bruises and cuts across her face, hands, and other areas of her body, and she was pretty sore as well. The elderly couple she lived with were off at a meeting for the time, a meeting that only werewolves were allowed to attend, and people like her, humans, were left at home for a while. Rise knew what these meetings were about (Having once snuck over to watch, only to be beaten when she was caught) And she wasn't to happy about them when they came around. It was usually the meeting that the pack decided which of their tasty little humans would get bit, there weren't many humans in the camp, and for the most part Rise was the only one, but there were a few other girls and she was unlikely to be bitten this time around. Seeing as she hadn't made near as much of a fuss as Katherine had.

Rise could see Katherine a few tents down and she looked nervous as she did the same thing Rise was doing, sweeping the dirt. All of the humans were nervous, but none really more so then Katherine. Rise wasn't here for any special cause, she wasn't there to hurt a family member, or because she herself had done anything wrong, but Katherine was there because her father had sold her in return of getting out of debt with the wolf pack, and they were a bit more nasty to Katherine then they were to Rise. It ceased to amaze her how even though she was chosen to be kidnapped by a band of werewolves, she still was the one who got ignored most of the time. It just fit her life style she guessed.

So once Rise was done sweeping, she took one last nervous look at Katherine and headed into the tent again, to try and tend to her wounds some more. Her hands were really starting to hurt her, and she had a pretty bad gash she had to deal with that crossed her stomach. She was due to go wait on Fenrir around 8 and knew that it would be getting close to that time, so after cleaning out her wounds with what little water she managed to get, she wiped her face off lightly and made her way over to the tent to take up the food platters and serve them to Fenrir and his group of dogs.

The dream was not so much a dream anymore. Ariel, unsure of exactly where he was, found himself greeted by the pack of what looked like easily nine-hundred by now. He sucked in a breath and walked down the aisle created by the two bands of wolf. Most had turned. Ariel was in a half state, fluffy but not turned; as was Fenrir. Such a state the two Greybacks were in. Yet they exuded power that was parallel to each other. Ariel, by some unknown force, was sent down onto his knees in an awkward bow of sorts. He brought his eyes up to meet his father’s and looked at Fenrir with a challenging gaze.

The skirmish in the Shack not even half an hour ago was something he knew he’d have to pay for. So soon and in such a bizarre way wasn’t what he’d banked on. Ariel looked about himself, spotting Gary and Trent’s ‘official’ mate in the crowd. Both were growling along with a few members of their little clique. Ariel tore his eyes off of them and looked around in search of Zack. He found him soon enough though. The tracking wolf was sat proudly by Fenrir’s feet, pompousness and arrogance beaming from him in all directions. Ariel scowled and the dog’s mouth twitched into a smirk of sorts. A growl left Ariel’s mouth and Zack raised an eyebrow. He looked at Fenrir, as if asking for the challenge and the werewolf nodded.

Zack leapt off of the podium of sorts and tackled Ariel. Dream state enabled Ariel to change and he kicked Zack off of him almost instantly, sending the ebony dog into the left side of the crowd. Shouts came from further up and Ariel turned his gaze to his father, begging him to reconsider his decision. If this was his punishment then surely he would have had a more traditional set up. Had this been his punishment, Zack wouldn’t have had to ask. It dawned on Ariel then just as Zack tackled him once more; biting into the wound he’d already blessed Ariel with. The blonde werewolf struggled against the elder one’s hold and Ariel did all he could do: bite back.

He sank his teeth into Zack’s thigh and the wolf leapt away, howling. He bowed his head to Ariel, accepting defeat for round one and limped back to Fenrir who looked less than impressed with one of his best. “That was not my punishment,” Ariel spat venomously. “I killed him didn’t I? Stop pussyfooting around with starters, head straight for dessert.”

Rise could hear something going on in the tent in front of her. It was a very large tent, the largest in the entire camp, so large that every werewolf could fit in it, while transformed. It wasn't the first time Rise had been among the werewolves while they were transformed, but it still scared her immensely that one of them may lose control and bite her. It would be just her luck to become a werewolf after all of this. Sighing Rise made her way into the side tent and started to get the meal platters ready. She was assigned to give Fenrir his tonight, meaning she had to go out first, and it always made her nervous, but someone stopped her before she could go. "Shh.. watch.." A boy said, pointing into the tent. It appeared one of the werewolves was being punished for something, a young boy by the looks of it, though older then Rise. Tilting her head to the side, she leaned forward farther and watched when he asked for the dessert.

"What did he do?" She asked the boy beside her, but he just shrugged and put his fingers to his lips before pointing into the tent again. "I think you should go in." He said softly, and pushed her through the flap. Rise nearly tripped when she came in, but managed to cover it up and headed straight towards Fenrir with the large platter of meat in her arms. It smelt horrid and was extremely heavy, but it was his food, and she had to carry it in a certain way, or be punished. Walking along the table, she could feel some of the eyes on her, but most of their eyes were on the boy in the middle of room, who looked furious and angry, and not quite transformed. Bowing her head, Rise held up the platter and then set it before Fenrir, before backing away a few steps to the side, where she would wait for the entire meal, taking back his plate when he was done, and bringing out more if he wanted it.

Rise couldn't help but let her eyes wander to the boy in the middle, who looked angry, and in pain. She bit her lower lip and tilted her head to the side slightly, recognizing him from somewhere. It wasn't until she heard his voice that she realized who it was. It was Ariel Greyback, from school. She had never actually been introduced to him, but she had seen him from afar, he wasn't the nicest of the bunch, and he certainly looked as though he might get killed here tonight, but she knew who it was, even if he didn't know her. After all, she was just a the plain boring Hufflepuff who had basically blended in with every crowd she came into. Why would he notice her? But still.. she hadn't known he was a Werewolf until right then, and it amazed her how someone like HIM, could be from someone like Fenrir... the most evil of the werewolves she had to admit.

Fenrir seemed most unimpressed with his son’s demands. One of his eyebrows rose but he made no move to say anything. Instead he gestured for one of the rattier looking women to step forward. She sprang off of the podium Fenrir had seated himself upon and landed in front of Ariel. She held a photo up and Ariel felt his heart jump into his throat; and somehow, his blood turned to ice in his veins. She waved the photograph in front of him and smiled at him, her rotting teeth nigh on glowing in the moonlight shining down on them. Ariel clenched his fists and fought to remain composed. The woman rubbed her fingers against each other and Ariel watched in despair as the photograph began to burn.

When the barrier of paper had burned away from between them, Ariel lashed out, grabbing the woman by what was left of her gypsy-styled shirt. He lifted her up off of her feet and watched as she squirmed. What intrigued him was that despite the discomfort, she found the whole thing amusing. She started to laugh manically and Ariel dropped her as if he’d been burned. He stepped away and watched as the woman, still laughing, staggered back towards his father. She leaned into him when she reached him, mumbling something in his ear, before sliding back behind his chair once more.

Ariel heard a growl nearby but paid it no mind. Instead his eyes went to movement. He watched as a bedraggled, filth-ridden girl made her way up to the table Fenrir was sat at, with a platter of food in her hands. She set it before him and as she did so, other people drifted out, placing food down on the tables around the room. Ariel paid the girl no mind. She was unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Instead he was wondering what Fenrir was going to do, what Fenrir was going to spring on him. The man seemed to read his mind and smiled knowingly – a grotesque, vicious smirk. He then gestured towards the seat to his right; Ariel’s seat. The one on Fenrir’s left rightly belonged to Ariel’s mother.

“Who fills that place now?” Ariel asked, nodding towards the left chair. “Surely not anyone here?” He looked around at the Werewolves, all of whom seemed to have lost their respect for him. “Or wait, don’t tell me you’ve found someone else, father? Someone else to fill the gap you left bare. And what did you fill it with? Woman after woman after woman when you could have kept my mother! You are a selfish bastard as well as a sick one. I hope hell swallows you whole!” Ariel spat.

There was uproar within the crowd and one of the elders came forth. “We’re all going to end up in the same place, Ariel.” He said serenely, managing to calm the crowd of irate werewolves. “Hell is where we belong I’m afraid, my boy. It is saddening, I know, but it is the place we must descend to for we sin by just having multiple forms.” There were nods from various people and Ariel glared. “You deny yourself, boy,” the man reached out and touched the spot on Ariel’s right side where the bite lay. Ariel pulled back and the man smiled knowingly. “By denying yourself you cause yourself more pain. Now, go and dine with your father.”

Ariel straightened himself up and turned. He walked further up the aisle and swept down into a bow that was both mocking and respectful at the same time. Ariel lifted his head and looked at his father, his mercury gaze boring into Fenrir. “I came here because I was made to. Do not make me wait.” Ariel felt the elder glare at him and he sighed, relenting. “You wouldn’t happen...to have any wine would you?” He asked finally.

Rise found her eyes glued to the boy who was obviously Fenrir's son. He was making quite the uproar, and she knew that he really had yet to be punished, by the look in Fenrir's eyes. Something was going on in that man's head, well man was the wrong term to use.. Monster was a more appropriate term anyway. Rise locked eyes with the boy for a long moment before she looked down and he looked away. It hadn't been anything more then that, but Rise felt a flash of anger towards this boy. This boy who went to her school, and yet was here, watching her be used like this. Made to do anything for Fenrir, made to be provoked, beaten, used, driven insane by the insanity here. Rise had been wrong when she had thought this get together was the naming of a new Werewolf, instead... it was something more important, something that made her blood turn to ice. This boy was being punished.. he was ASKING to be punished.

Rise looked at the floor, but looked up again when he asked for wine. He obviously was still in okay standing with the monster beside her, if he had the gall to ask for wine. Something different was going on here, and she was extremely confused by it all. Not that she got any answers anyway, she just tended to eavesdrop to find out what was going on. It appeared that a lot of the other werewolves, while still focused on the attention in the middle, were now busy eating their meat and talking with another, even though it was just moments after they had all been in an uproar. Obviously they were still listening closely to what was going on, for the talk was a lot less then most nights were like.

Rise glanced up at Fenrir sickenly, and suddenly wished she had been told to serve someone else today. Fenrir enjoyed watching others make fun of her, and would often issue beatings for no other reason then to watch her get beat. Rise had learned that the best way to avoid to bad of a beating was to cry out as loudly as possible. Though these days it wasn't to hard to do, seeing as every time she was beat, it seemed to get worse and worse. Standing there, her hands clasped in front of her, Rise examined her bruised and battered hands. Dirt encrusted every inch of them, grime was under her fingernails, which were chewed to the quick, and when she looked at the palms, she couldn't even make out her own palm lines, because of the dirt that had carved itself into the cracks there. Sweat made parts of it shinier and cleaner looking then others, and here and there she could see a small spot of white skin, skin that was pale because the dirt protected her from the sun. Rise, after examining her hands for a long moment more, finally looked up at Ariel and Fenrir, wondering what his real punishment would be.

The seat beside his father needed to be filled and the werewolves weren’t going to be content until Ariel did so. So, Ariel made his way up to the front. He walked slowly up the steps, keeping his eyes on his father. Instead of walking around the table though; he jumped up onto it. There were a few gasps from some of the ‘help’ but Ariel calmly jumped off of the side and took his seat beside his father. He leaned back in the chair, resting his elbows on the arm rests, and brought his hands together. He swept his eyes across the crowd of werewolves, feeling every bit the prince of the paupers, before looking up at his father.

Fenrir’s jaw was set and he was sat straight-backed in the chair unlike his slouching son. Ariel sighed and kicked his shoes off under the table. “What is my punishment, father?” He asked his impatience showing. “Dining with you not would be the biggest insult to Trent there is and you know it.” Fenrir seemingly ignored Ariel and clicked his fingers, gesturing for one of servants to feel their chalices with wine. Ariel sighed despairingly. “Fine. Sod it. I’ll eat your bloody food. If, they eat too.” He pointed to the servants standing a way away. “It’s only fair isn’t it?” Ariel leaned forward, picking up his fork. The werewolves hardly used utensils, the animals. Just watching them eat made Ariel feel sick. He’d never had a taste for meat; for flesh. It had to be well cooked, well seasoned – all of that. This would be basic and only cooked through for a few minutes he didn’t doubt.

Ariel’s eyes fell on Gary and he quickly averted them, not wanting to meet the hard gaze. He turned the fork over in his hand and waited for the food to be dished out. If it wouldn’t have been so bizarre, Ariel was sure Fenrir would have had them feed him but that was taking it too far. They already dished out the food as well as made it. What more could he ask for? A lot more probably. Ariel was beginning to feel peckish now but definitely not for their slop.

Rise quickly came forward when Fenrir snapped his fingers, and filled his chalice with wine from a large bottle that was set next to the table on a small folding table. She poured it and handed to cup to Fenrir before backing away, her eyes to the floor. The other servants in the room were doing the same to everyone else in the room, and Rise continued to stare at her dirty, bare feet. They were so dirty you could have sworn they were naturally that dark color, but really, she was bright white pale under that layer of grime. Dirt was packed under her toenails and she stood scratching at her foot while the werewolves spoke.

When he said they eat too, Rise couldn't resist looking up to look at him, he was indicating the servants around the room, and she could almost hear her stomach growl over their conversation. She tried not to think of what they ate as food, because the second she let her think of food herself, she could feel her stomach seeming to crawl and twitch in hunger. But them getting to eat? Sure they ate a little bit everyday, but really it was only enough to stay alive, and Rise (Who had been skinny to start with) Looked like a bag of bones as she stood next to Fenrir, who was looking healthy as a horse. Rise found herself staring at Ariel. This boy was a lot different then others she had seen, and she wasn't sure what she had expected from Fenrir's son.. the boy looked like a carbon copy of the man.. but he was much nicer, if a little gruff. Though being here was gruff in general, you had to change to survive it.

Rise found herself staring at Fenrir, wondering what he would do with the request of the servants being able to eat. She didn't want to eat the meat that they were eating.. she'd rather run away again then eat that slop, but if he demanded her to eat something.. she could always go back into the kitchens and get a small loaf of bread. She had managed, over the last couple of months, to figure out how much one loaf of bread could be split between people, and she could feed almost six people with one loaf of bread, quite easily, and maybe even have a bit to spare. Bread was what made up her diet, and she was content with that.. but this Ariel person.. well if Rise tried to eat that food.. she'd probably get some kind of poisoning or something... raw meat wasn't supposed to be consumed by humans, in any way, and she could possibly die from it.

The crowd were sinking their teeth into the bloody meat they’d been served. The sight of it made Ariel feel rather sick, actually. He leaned forward and grasped his chalice, deciding to become incredibly interested in the wine he’d been served. Ariel sat back in his seat and rested the foot of the chalice on the arm rest. Ariel ran his finger along the rim and began to recycle old thoughts. He let them all whirl around in his mind for an unspecified amount of time before leaning forward and slamming the chalice down on the table. Fenrir turned his head ever so slightly and watched as Ariel got to his feet and walked down the length of the table, pushing out the chairs beside his own. Then he walked the other way, doing the same to the ones near Fenrir. After that, Ariel turned to the workers and gestured to the seats.

“Sit.” It was a half command. The other half of the one-word sentence was a request. Ariel wanted them to sit and eat with everyone else. He could feel Fenrir’s eyes on him and he walked towards them. He took the wrist of one of the young girls and took her over to the nearest seat. He released her wrist and pulled the chair out for her, gesturing for her to sit down. She watched him warily but lowered herself into the chair none the less. He pushed the chair in underneath her and picked up the flash of wine that had been left on the table. Ariel took the chalice with his other hand. He poured some of the wine into the chalice and pressed it into her hands. Ariel put the flask down again and turned. “Sit,” he repeated before swivelling around and heading back to his chair.

Ariel waited for the others to take their seats as the dinner was served by some of the werewolves who had apparently eaten their more than fair share. Ariel watched as mashed potato was thrown onto his plate, followed by a steak and some sausages that didn’t look as if they’d been cooked. Ariel picked up his chalice and drank it, deciding that it was probably better to be drunk and experiencing the foul, raw food that the dogs supplied. Ariel felt sicker at the sight of it untouched than he did when it was being eaten. Ariel picked up his fork and leaned forward, poking the steak with it. Ariel pulled it back before stabbing the prongs into the steak itself. He took his hand away and smirked. It just stood there, upright and unmoving. Fantastic.

Suddenly he was telling everyone to sit down. Why? Rise stood warily to the side, her eyes on Fenrir and then back at the boy. But.. it wasn't like they could disobey a command, he was the leader's son... and even if he was in trouble, it wasn't like they could not do what he said. So after a long moment's hesitation, after he had pulled Katherine into a chair not to far from Rise, Rise slowly stepped up and sat down, along with the other servants. Most of them were shaking and looking around at the Werewolves around them. Rise stared at her plate, her face burning, her eyes watering. They would probably be beat for this stupid boys decision that they all needed to eat. They would be beat for eating their food, for listening to him, but they all knew they didn't exactly have a choice. One of the servant girls was already in tears when the food was served to them as well.

The meat wasn't even cooked. There was blood on it, and it made Rise sick just looking at it. Though the mashed potatoes looked good at least. It was kind of hard to mess those up, and Rise would know, she had cooked them earlier that day. Or at least helped to, there were a lot of werewolves, who ate a lot of food, it was hard to make enough for everyone,but if they didn't, they were beat, sometimes if they made to much, they were beat. Basically it was a never ending cycle of forever having bruises on her skin. Rise rubbed her finger up and down one of the bruises on her hands, as she looked at the food. She looked around and noticed that Fenrir had started to eat, so the other werewolves were digging in to. But Rise wasn't the only servant looking around warily.

Finally, Rise took the lead, and picked up her fork, taking a bite of the mashed potatoes, and feeling a small smile cross her face. She couldn't help but let out a whimper of satisfaction, and her eyes turned greedy as she took another bite. At seeing her digging in, the other servants started to eat, slowly, but were quickly picking up speed. Rise didn't know what was in the goblets, but when one was handed to her, she took a drink from it, almost choking on the flavor. She glanced into the goblet, and took a steadying breath, her throat felt all closed up and funny and she set it down quickly, taking another bite of potatoes to drown out the flavor. That was the last she would drink from that crap.

After looking around the room, she noticed a few others react similarly towards the drink, and didn't drink it again, but some of the food on her plate was so salty, she needed a drink, and took another gulp from the goblet. But she knew she shouldn't have eaten so much, after not eating a lot, and then suddenly a large plate of food, it wasn't healthy, and she could feel her body rejecting it already. She whimpered and moved back from the table, looking at the food hungrily, but knowing she couldn't eat anymore. It wasn't long before the other servants were looking the same way and had pushed themselves away from the table to stare in not only disgust, but looking almost sick as they looked around the room at the werewolves that were onto their third and fourth helpings of food. How they could eat so much, she wasn’t sure, but she felt sick right then, and really wished they would just be allowed to leave.

Dinner was an awkward affair. The fork remained upright the whole time as Fenrir ate his own dinner at a leisurely pace. Ariel could not take his eyes off of the fork. He was staring right through it though, periodically sipping his wine. He put it down on the table and stretched in his seat, slipping his shoes off and clicking his toes as he did so. He leaned back in the chair and looked over at Fenrir who seemed to be watching a fight that had broken out over one of the female wolves towards the back. Ariel cleared his throat and took a few grapes from the plate that had been set out with savoury delicacies that the rest of the werewolves rarely saw. He popped them into his mouth and met his father’s gaze.

“How is school?” Fenrir asked gently. Ariel’s eyes widened to the size of the platters set out before them. For a minute, he sounded like a real father. Then he turned his gaze away and a growl ripped from his throat, resounding across the clearing and managing to end the fight. Fenrir’s lips came together again and he turned towards his son, setting his cutlery down and expecting an answer. Ariel swallowed and tried to find an answer. He wasn’t sure what Fenrir wanted to hear. “I hear much of your brothers’ and sisters’ achievements but rarely yours, Ariel. Is there something you wish to confide in me?” Ariel shook his head, unable to find words to either question the man’s motivations or voice an answer. Fenrir spoke again, “I am supposed to care aren’t I?” He asked hesitantly. “I mean, that is the fatherly thing to do isn’t it?”

This time, Ariel nodded in response. He averted his gaze and picked up his glass of wine, hoping to find his voice at some point. “I...” Ariel’s voice died in his throat and he drank down some more of his wine. He didn’t know how to speak to the man. How was he truly supposed to speak to the man that left his mother, shagged nearly a thousand other women, and turned his eldest son into a monster? Ariel put the glass of wine back down on the table and brought his hands together in his lap. “S’fine,” he managed after a moment. “...good....unchallenging...school I suppose...” he drifted off, unsure what else to say and decided to ask a question of his own. “Where are you going next?” he asked. Fenrir shrugged. They wouldn’t be moving the pack for a while then. “Father,” Ariel hedged. “Really, what is my punishment?”

“We’ll see,” Fenrir said cryptically. He looked over at the servants and frowned slightly, pointing at one towards the end. “Does she look...healthy to you?”