Bathing in the Moonlight

Twigs snapped underfoot as Ariel made his way through the Forbidden Forest. A bottle of Wolfsbane was inside the satchel that was thrown over his shoulders. The potion was fresh. It had come straight from the cauldron it had been brewed in. Myrtle had been most hospitable when Ariel had approached her with the request to use her bathroom to brew his potions in his fifth year. Ariel suspected she liked the attention and the company. He didn’t mind either. When she wasn’t sobbing she was alright to have around. She seemed to have a lot to say but kept it zipped which suited Ariel down to the ground.

The centaurs weren’t pleased to see him; they never were. Ariel had listened to how displeased they were until he was out of earshot. They’d made sure to tell him how much they hated his presence. They didn’t like the Werewolves in the woods. They didn’t like the Vampires either but they preferred the blood suckers because they didn’t lord over Centaur land like Ariel did. He was the Alpha of his non-existent pack. He was content to be a solitary werewolf, however. He didn’t believe he needed the company of others, or a mate. A mate would have been nice but he was fine at present. He didn’t need the companionship of someone else – not when he had Myrtle.

The Slytherin paused beside a particularly large boulder. He looked about himself. He was far enough in now so there was no chance of him bothering the little children that were going in search of ‘adventure’. Ariel’s eyes drifted up to the sky and he watched as the trees parted over head, revealing the amber sky. Ariel sighed and lifted his bag off of his shoulders. He placed it on the boulder and popped the clasp. He opened it up and took the bottle out. He turned it over in his hands, feeling the smooth glass, and uncorked it.

Ariel tipped his head back and placed the rim to his lips. He pushed the bottle forward and let the foul, rotten tasting liquid spill down his throat.

When the bottle was clean, Ariel curled forward in on himself. He threw the bottle away from him and vaguely registered the smash of the glass against the ground. He gasped a guttural sound and pulled at his neck, tugging his tie off. His breathing remained laboured as he pulled at his shirt, pushing the buttons out of the holes. He pulled the shirt off and grabbed his undershirt. He wrenched it over his head and threw it onto the growing pile on top of the boulder.

As Ariel undressed, the sun disappeared. Ariel slammed his boxers down on top of the clothes, those being the last article of clothing he took off. He leaned heavily against the boulder and gasped as he tried to take in the necessary amount of air to survive. His lungs just weren’t having it though. Ariel’s eyes snapped open and went to the moon that was illuminating his pale body in its silvery glow. His pupils widened and he arched his back, his head falling back. His hair was released from whatever spell he had it under and his eyes slid shut.

A scream left his mouth as his bones began to break and set in different places. The scream turned into an animalistic growl as the muzzle appeared on his face and Ariel fell forward, catching himself on his now fully formed paws. He opened his eyes, his mouth falling open. He stared down at the undergrowth and watched for a few moments as a few ants scrambled away. His breathing began to regulate and Ariel lifted his head. He pushed himself up onto his hind legs and looked about himself. Then, he took off at a run. Well, he didn’t, the dog did.

Tonight, tonight, tonight. That's what it's all about. The full moon beaming down. Though some can't enjoy it, and that's always a shame. It was always a shame for Brienne, who never experienced it before she met Daniel, who made the potion to clear her mind. However, that wasn't always helpful, or not as helpful as she wanted it to be. The Wolfsbane would only take effect to make her mind clear, but not her body, of her ailment. She honestly couldn't handle that anymore. She couldn't handle being a werewolf as much as she had to suffer with it. However, there were some hidden perks which she'd never considered nor ever seen in action.

She sipped the foul liquid, it burned her throat and tongue. She had her radio equipment out to listen to a strange local numbers station she was trying to trace. It wasn't a Muggle operation, since it only broadcast within the limits of the Wizard World. Daniel brought it to her attention when he'd turned on a radio. She began obsessively listening to it, and trying to trace its origins. She knew she'd probably never know the origins of the number station, but she'd try.

Suddenly, a feeling of dread came over her. Dread for herself. She knocked over her radio, which was battery powered. It took a nasty tumble and shattered on a few rocks below. She hadn't realized it would come on this quick, it was only....oh shoot. She'd underestimated the time that passed. It was dark, a million twinkles above her, and the accursed pearly orb. Someone would die tonight, and it wouldn't be her. She imagined there were a few others like her in the world right about now, who'd be undergoing this cursed transformation.

Her ears extended painfully, like a shot to the head. It burned horribly. Unfortunately, unlike the shot to the head, the pain wouldn't end. She quickly stripped herself, as she didn't want to ruin her clothes. Her muscle mass increased tenfold, claws ripping from her hands and feet. She belted out a loud shriek, like a banshee but worse. She felt her heart hammer in her chest at an amazingly fast, but disturbing rate. Fur grew over her body. She was transformed. She felt energized, but no better. Though she still had her mentality intact.

She felt herself run, chasing after some delicious scent. Delicious to her dog-side, but not to her. It smelled like....buck urine. Disgusting, but she felt compelled to chase it. She picked up the trail, soon coming upon the poor unfortunate deer standing there. He ran, but was no match for the wolf. Brienne pounced upon him, her claws seemed to seek areas with a pulse. They ripped into the neck with ferocity, coating her paws with blood. Warm, delicious blood. She dug into the corpse, eating the fresh flesh that lumped under her. She snarled in triumph, ripping offal and muscle away from bone. Hide was tossed aside. Wait, what was she doing? She was eating. Her logical side knew that, but she was eating raw meat. She tucked her logical, human mind away temporarily while she ate. That same mind that failed to stop her from killing the deer in the first place.

An exertion such as this was long overdue. Ariel could feel every muscle in his body stretching out and getting the workout they wanted. Ariel hopped about the undergrowth, climbing over fallen logs and diving under webs left behind the Acromantula. He was most definitely at peace here. Here the irritable canine could have its fun. Just the feeling of the earth between his toes pleased the dog.

Ariel jumped up onto a log and dug his claws into the wood so he didn’t tumble off. He took his front paw from the wood and walked across the log. He padded onto a soft grassy piece of raised ground and paused, one paw still on the log. Ariel closed his eyes and listened intently for the sound of water. When the sound of trickling water met his ears, Ariel jumped off of the raised ground and set off at a run.

He scampered through the undergrowth and quickly found himself in a clearing where a pool of water had formed. There, a group of deer were grazing quietly, chewing on the grass and drinking. Ariel lowered himself down to the ground and watched the deer through the grass. He licked his lips, looking forward to the chase and slowly began to creep forward, stalking the deer he’d picked.

But suddenly another werewolf sprung out and took down the deer. The others were sent running and Ariel sat up, both he and the dog completely bemused. He narrowed his eyes and sat up, watching with disgust as the wolf pulled apart the animal. They hadn’t wanted to do that. The canine had wanted to chase them for sport and Ariel was just willing to sit back and smirk, thinking about the workout he was getting. No, this angered him and the dog.

A growl ripped from Ariel’s throat and he pushed himself onto his feet. He approached the creature now covered in blood and he turned up his nose in disgust upon smelling the blood. Disgusting, the Slytherin thought, suddenly feeling incredibly nauseous.

Footsteps. They were sensitive upon her ears. The deer before Brienne had been reduced to a mere pile of bones and a torn up hide. Oh, and a set of antlers. She'd have a tummy ache in the morning, but that was no biggie. A food coma usually cured it all. She heard a growling, competition? Odd, since she was the alpha wolf around here. No other wolves dared cross her territory. None. Or else they'd end up like the deer. Yeah. Her reasonable side pushed itself forth once more. She turned heel to face the other wolf, she retorted with a low growl, her ears pulled way back against her head and her eyes narrowed. Her tail was out straight, almost raised. A sign of dominance. As if to say, "You're intruding on my land", but not with words.

Out of the periphery of her vision, she saw a rabbit. She wasn't hungry, nor bloodthirsty. Though she did feel like she wanted to play with it, perhaps pursue it for a little while. However, she was still standing her ground. Whatever, she thought, he's a newbie and can't possibly last in this land. She turned once more to the rabbit. She ran after it, the speed of it seemingly in time with hers, as if it knew she wasn't serious about killing it. She chased it for a little while until it got really boring. Then she turned back to the strange wolf once more. The hazel of her humanoid eyes became only a glint of familiarity within the yellow they were now. The Ravenclaw recognized something within the strange wolf. Something that wasn't so strange. He seemed almost...human.

Brienne was a bit of a freak as a werewolf. She was more...wolfish, preferring quadruped locomotion to bipedal. Her charcoal fur had some scars within. The same facial scars from before were evident, as well. Her ears were a bit long for a wolf, and her body was more like that of a real wolf. It was almost as if she WAS a wolf, and not just a regular werewolf. She pawed the earth beneath her, and blood rubbed onto the grass. She didn't realize she'd gotten hurt during the deer chase. There was a gash on her leg, she licked it.

It was going to be a late night. The canine would have been content to rampage through the Centaur Camp until the hybrids gave chase. Ariel was fatigued, however, and didn’t want to have to combat the effects of lack of sleep as well as aching muscles and bones in the morning. He didn’t handle Full Moons well. It was like taking a giant, bear sized dog out for a walk and ending up being dragged along instead of the other way around. His bones breaking and setting in different places didn’t help. Breaking back hurt more than the original transformation. The werewolf was much more resilient.

When the other canine hopped away after the rabbit, Ariel’s eyes moved down to the carcass of the deer that the Wolf had left. He sighed and flicked some dirt over the carcass. He felt an overwhelming sense of pity for the animal and bowed his head, silently praying for it. Ariel wasn’t a religious person by any means but he felt the deer deserved some sort of help that would limp it through into the next life. Ariel sighed and reached forward, closing the animal’s eyes. Even the canine inside himself seemed to be at a loss. Ariel was more in touch with the emotions he denied himself while he was in this form. That was why he was so...disgusted and dejected.

Ariel got up and walked away from the animal. The more human, more unattached version of his mind told the connected parts of himself and the dog to get over it. The animal was dead; it was time to move on. This person was so...animalistic. Like his father. Ariel turned is nose up and held back a growl of distaste. He could feel his leg muscles probing with excitement. The dog wanted to run again. It was self-destructive if it wasn’t indulged; the scars on his chest being evidence enough of that. But Ariel waited, staring at the other wolf, waiting for any hint of remorse. Had he been human, the disgust would have been there but he doubted he would have mourned as his softer side and the canine were. This dog was a monster, whoever it was.

She could see something within the dog. Her hypersensitivity during these times was something to be desired only by fools. Fools who thought that having it was a good thing. It wasn't if your motto was "Ignorance is bliss". She wasn't ignorant to anything. Not even someone's emotions during this time. The other dog thought she was a...monster? She stifled an offended growl. Instead, she bowed her head, as if to apologize for what she did and didn't do. That was something that she never thought possible. That she'd just sympathize like that, without any prior warning from her own psyche. From her own mind.

She was a real piece of work, wasn't she? She was, but not in the way that she wanted to be. She was Brienne, sure, but not herself. Brienne was different now. She was different in a bad way. She was different in ways she didn't like. It was unusual. She wasn't comfortable. She barked at some shadows behind her, and they seemed to recoil. She had such a powerful presence here, that it was almost scary.

The wind dragged her sensual fingers across Ariel’s back as she passed, making the young werewolf shudder with delight and chills. The forest was fresh, only marred with the scent of blood. Ariel straightened himself up and trotted over to where the other werewolf was. He sat down in front of the dog and cocked his head to the side, taking it in. Suddenly, the canine within himself decided he wanted to act upon animalistic urges although thankfully these were quite tame.

Ariel temporarily lost control of himself and was thrust to the back of his own mind. He watched as the dog licked some of the blood off of the fur of the beast that killed the animal behind them. Ariel felt sick knowing that it would be his stomach reacting to the blood in the morning. He threw himself forward, shoving the canine back to where it belonged but he remained where he was, showing that there had been no obvious exchange of power. Ariel rested his head against the other wolf’s body for a few moments before taking it away.

Ariel stepped away and sat down in the grass. He looked over the wolf’s shoulder at the shadowed trees for a moment before looking back at her. Monster or not she was still part of the wood, as was he.

Brienne looked back just in time to see the other wolf licking blood from her fur. Her eyes caught his momentarily in an intense, dominant gaze, somewhat startling. Something that she never did. She never gazed quite like that before. The other wolf settled his head upon her briefly, and she caught his gaze again. Catching a person or animal's gaze was what she did best in this form, while her other form hardly looked into the eyes of others. Let alone a beast's. Even the most intriguing creatures couldn't hold her attention, keep and capture, for very long. That was just it. She changed as a monster. She changed.

A faint odor of blood rose into the air, on her breath, as a vehicle for nightmares past, present and future. Sickly so, it seemed the ichor of the Underworld seemed to course through her veins. Propulsion of which would be considered obsolete, as she seemed not to have a heart, at least not for emotion. A lone lyre of the night seemed to follow her earshot, to call ever so sweetly, but tirelessly. Likened to the lyre, the passerine raven seemed like music to her, breathing rhythm into her. Breath came to Brienne in gasps the moment she observed with her auricles. Raggedness soon gave way to a smooth pattern once more.

A cawing bird of death considered a lovely instrument? Darkness pumping through her? These seemed more poetic and less real than what a person would suspect. However, it was partly real. Darkness being her bloodlust, and the satisfaction of which allowed her a real glimpse of her surroundings. The bird she saw as so sweet, the song calling to death her prey, actually cawed. It wasn't the Wolfsbane, she had an instinct that told her so, that was keeping her. It was the blood. The blood quelled her lust, and kept her running through this time. She looked over the hill upon the metropolis below, the blood of strangers seemed to call to her. She must resist, though, but could she?