Horse Eden : Riverbreeze x Kyubi

May 30, 2021 12:46 AM

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#890705
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This is a roleplay between myself, Kyubi, and Riverbreeze Stables. Please don't post in this forum unless you are one of us.

Feel free to read along though!

May 30, 2021 02:07 AM

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#890716
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Full Name: Accalia Etheridge

Nickname / Preferred Name: Alia

Age: 21

Gender: Female

Species: Werewolf

Height: 5'1

Appearance: Accalia doesn't have a tall build and is a rather startling short lady compared to her wolf form. She is shorter than the average 'village' lady who usually stands around 5'4. Her figure is skinny but curvy overall a different physical appearance than the others. Her eyes are brilliant milky gold in her human form. Her face is cute and round, her lips full. Her forehead holds the mark of a circle with a line through it, the symbol of a female werewolf. Her odd black hair is shaggy but not frizzy. In her human form, she has black wolf ears and tail. In her wolf form, she has fluffy all-black fur with glowing yellow eyes. She is a muscular wolf but somehow has feminine features. She is relatively smaller than a male werewolf but she is still large. Her forehead holds a clear white marking of the circle with a line through it against her black fur.

Personality: Accalia can have a rather overbearing personality. She carries a lot of those 'wolf' tendencies. She finds herself to be protective to the point of it being dangerous. She gets territorial over her space and over the people she cherishes. She does have a cute and loving side, almost like a sweet puppy. She can be stubborn but when she gets emotional she tends to get overly emotional. Alia can find herself rude like an old witch, liking to see people wither in pain, but that is only when she is truly pissed off. When she gets emotional, usually when she is sad, she acts like a hurt child seeking comfort usually by cuddling as that is another wolf behavior of hers that makes her feel secure. Overall, especially in a new environment she can be timid and overwhelmed but curious and agile at the same time. Since she is a pack 'animal' she tends to want support a lot of the time.

Background: Alia couldn't remember when she was transformed into a werewolf. She believed it because she was too young to remember it. She knows that she is practically the only female werewolf which makes her feel lonely. She has strived to find herself a pack of werewolves but usually, the males get invasive since she is a female which seemingly arouses them. She later found out about the marking of a werewolf and what it means. Males have a plain circle on their foreheads. The circle represents a strong bond to the males' wolf side, also representing the strength in spirit and the strength as one. But she had learned that the line through her circle, of course, represented she was a female, but it also represented that her bond with her wolf side was broken. She tends to lose control over the simplest things, usually, it being blood, but she doesn't have much courage or power as the males since her bond is broken.

Strengths: Alia has a strong sense of smell, hearing, and sight.

Weaknesses: She is very weak with blood. She tends to get adrenaline and wild instincts rushing through her veins.

Likes: Alia tends to have 'pup' like tendencies and absolutely loves to cuddle. It is a very comforting tactic especially when she is nervous or scared.

Dislikes: Alia dislikes reading since she is a physically driven 'animal' she prefers to explore, also dislikes being in one place for a long duration of time.

Fears / Phobias: Alia has a phobia of torches due to the fire that usually people wave at her when she is in her wolf form of course. She also despises loud noises as that usually spooks her more than the average being.

Other: Werewolves don't have many romantic gestures since all of them are males. However, from experience, Alia finds it to be a romantic gesture when an individual touches her tail and/or ears in her human form.

June 2, 2021 09:15 AM

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#891504
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Full Name: Killian O'Kane

Nickname / Preferred Name: Killian or Lian (NOT Kill)

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Species: Warlock

Height: 5'9

Appearance: Killian is an average-sized person. Not too tall, not too bulky, or too thin. Just Average. In fact, he blends in well with his surroundings because of it. He has fair skin, a strong jawline but soft-ish features with round blue eyes, thin lips, and a straight nose. Accompanied with a squared figure, with his shoulders slighter broader than his hips. Finished off with curly dark brown hair, medium length where it sits around his shoulders and is usually tied back in a messy low ponytail. He has a somewhat messy yet clean look, with his clothes neat and in order, hygiene.

Personality: Killian is a quiet person, he doesn't go out much and prefers to stay in his own private lifestyle, only going out when he needs to. He can mingle well with the townsfolk but wouldn't be classified as the friend to all, simply an acquaintance. He also likes to study and spends a lot of his time learning new things, even subjects other than werewolves. He has had a time where he studied quite heavily with magic, spells, and chants. So he is quite adept at them and loves to use them in his daily life. Killian is overall friendly, patient, and thoughtful, an introvert at heart. But can come off as a coward at times unless pushed to his limit. When very alert and scared he has been known to simply shut down to his magic and let it do the work. Which has given him mind blanks during the time. So he dislikes putting himself in those situations that would lead to such events.

Background: Killian grew up in a city that had a lot of Witches and Warlocks at them, even an academy for warlocks and witches alone. He grew up in a tense family, his father and older siblings quite cold in personality, always putting the duties of the family first as they were well known. As the youngest, he was the baby of the family and was rather attached to his mother, who was different from the rest of his family. Kind and gentle she taught Killian a lot, including his interests in werewolves. But she disappeared when he was mealy ten, without work and without reason. It broke his heart and left him alone. Killian let go of his dreams then and become reclusive. During his academy years, he was physically bullied for his meek attitude. It wasn't until he met his mentor Trisha Delona, a mighty witch who brought Killian out of his comfort zone and to aspire for his dreams did he move to Koilus, to study and find werewolves. Where he has been for seven long years.

Strengths: Knowledge. He knows a lot about the myths of werewolves and also has a lot of magical knowledge, he is quite intelligent.

Weaknesses: Physically he cannot do shit. Weak to most things that involve exercise, that includes running and fighting.

Likes: Studying werewolves and researching the myths and legends around them, as well as his organized mess of notes and books. he enjoys being inside and away from people. He is also fond of his Familiars.

Dislikes: People referring to him as Kill. And dirty surroundings. Crowds he hates, he also hates overbearing, loud, and dominant people, especially manipulative ones.

Fears / Phobias: He is terrified of getting hurt, physically and mentally. He doesn't like to get attached and fears abandonment. He also has an in-depth phobia of wounds, blood, broken bones, and events that could lead to injury.

Other: He has three familiar's that spy around the village, send his messages, and complete tasks. All are black with blue ghostly tattoos that show his binding to them. A frog named Chalice, a cat named Sibil, and a crow named Alder.
Chalice - Black Tree Frog, 4 inches in size, blue eyes. In human form, 11-12yr Girl, tanned skin, messy pixie cut, auburn hair.
Sibil - Black Short-Haired feline, long and tall, blue eyes. In human form, tall and slim, 30-35 y, fair skin and long blond hair tied back in a bun.
Alder - Black Crow, larger than most, black beady eyes. In human form, a man in 50s, dark skin and short black hair going grey.

Edited at July 10, 2021 09:21 AM by Riverbreeze Stables

May 30, 2021 03:59 AM

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#890726
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“Alia! Alia” The men used to chant her name as if she was royalty. Their voices were tanged with cherished lust yet they had an obtuse desire to tease her more than appeal their romance to her. It was always a mystery whether the lust in their voices was to court her or not since she was technically the only female werewolf. She has received many unsettling physical romantic gestures but they were more appalling than enticing. “You haven’t passed the test of becoming a true werewolf,” An older man spoke with a hissy tone. He would poke her with a hasty finger which she would irritatingly slap away. There were never rules of having to prove one’s self-confidence as a wolf but men tended to be more competitive than they can actually handle. Accalia wasn’t like them. She never found herself seeking unneeded attention but she did find it rather infuriating of the constant pressure the males would place upon her. This meant that she would try their little game just to appease them.

The first test they gave her was to bite a human. Seems odd, right? Werewolves are capable of turning humans into werewolves with a single bite. It was a hard task, only the strongest wolves able to transform a human into a werewolf. It was mostly an inherited talent of the wolves, not all having the capability of doing it. Usually, the werewolf ‘venom’ doesn’t work on females hence why all of the population are males, other than Accalia. She found herself compelled to fulfill this task that they pressured upon her so she went on the outskirts of town. Her tail lashed in anticipation, sensing the others watching upon a hilltop. It wasn’t long until she found a human. She chomped down on their arm, luckily not hard enough to go straight to the bone. She managed to barely pierce the skin, enough to establish the venom. If blood leaked out she knew she would lose control. Usually, the transformation can be seen within minutes but there was no transformation. It was already bad enough that she was a female but now she was a venom-less werewolf, unable to transform a simple human into a werewolf. She couldn’t stop hearing about it from the men until they finally shut their mouths about the incident. They later gave her another test. However, Accalia refused every test they gave her after that. She refused to be embarrassed and humiliated for weeks. That was when she started setting boundaries and even getting aggressive with the other pack members. She started by nipping at their faces but soon she would get in fights nearly every day soon drawing blood. When she would draw blood from the fights she would lose control, truly becoming ravenous. That was when the fight would have to be broken up. She took advantage of the fear she inflicted upon the other pack members until one day…

Accalia was having another ‘iffy’ day but she was obviously temperamental. Her ears tapered to the side and her fur prickled with agitation. It wasn’t long until she got into another fight, her claws digging into flesh, her tail lashing, her teeth bare. Her opponent yowled and, of course, fought back. But this time she didn’t give her opponent a chance to inflicting damage. She went straight for the neck, her teeth sinking in. The yowling of her opponent went quiet and she let go, the wolf’s body slumping against the ground. Accalia felt her heart pounding, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Her vision grew blurry as she felt herself slowly losing control. No one was capable of stopping this fight due to her hasty actions. When her vision cleared, she began to tremble, her tail tucked as she gleamed her eyes around her. Other wolves stood towering over her with glaring eyes. This was the last time they were to tolerate her actions. Their teeth began to gleam, letting out riveting snarls. Luckily, the wolf on the ground was still breathing but slowly withering away due to the deep teeth marks in its neck. “We’ve had enough of you, Alia!” One of the powerful males of the pack boomed at her, his voice maliciously. “You know I didn’t mean to,” Accalia pleaded but the stares she was given only grew colder. “You say that every time,” Another male blurted. “There has to be a way for me to make it up!” Alia exclaimed, not knowing whether she should be saddened or aggressive. It was best to act sad, knowing that if she acted aggressively they would only get aggressive back at her. “Come back when you have tamed one that lives among the humans,” The powerful male stated, now towering over her. It was an impossible task and they all knew it. There was no chance of her coming back.

She doesn’t remember a lot about that night other than the incident and the fact that she was now alone. It was hard being hit was a sudden realization. They were the only thing that she had and she abused the power she had. Accalia knew she wouldn’t be welcome any longer unless she fulfills the task they asked her of which she knew was impossible. All humans and all of those who lived among the humans were all the same, hating the werewolves because of their vicious intention to ‘take over the world.’ She shouldn’t be focusing on an inconclusive task but rather a way to survive. For days she found herself starving, attempting to hunt in a new environment that she knew she could never call home. She soon came to the conclusion that she had to make a hard decision. Alia would have to hunt near the town.

The grass whipped in the soft breeze. There was not a cloud in the sky, the moon gazing on the land underneath it. A pen stood tall, a barrier to outsiders. Inside were livestock, big-eared cows, and many sheep who had recently been sheered. The noises of livestock in a tight little pen filled her ears. Their big burly bodies bumped into each other as they peacefully moved about. They were originally munching on the food they were given for the night but soon all of their heads lifted. Their ears and noses twitched and soon they all found themselves standing still. Accalia’s footsteps were soft, not a single noise sounding from her heavy feet as she moved along the cobblestone path leading to the pen. Her black pelt glistened under the moonlight, black as midnight. The town was drearily quiet other than the livestock before her. They stood there, their black beady eyes staring into her soul, hoping she would spare a minute of their life. As she breached closer, their hooves began to scatter as they swayed back and forward in order to anticipate their movements. Without hesitation, she leaped into the pen in her best attempt to avoid swinging hooves. It wasn’t long until the livestock were screeching for help. They slammed into each other and the small barrier that held them to be lambs to the slaughter. They snorted, slammed, and screamed to make all the noise they could, knowing that they would soon be protected by the lazy humans with pitchforks. It only took seconds for her to take down one of the loud animals, staring into its bleedy black eyes as she held it down. The wails only softened from the one she held down until it stopped after her gruesome killing. She was so in the moment that she couldn’t recall what exactly killed it. The pressure of her paw upon its neck or her claws and teeth digging into its thick flesh. She dragged the lifeless body out of the pen, not caring to go far before she dug through its warm flesh. Tendons and bones snapped as she chowed down on a long-needed meal. Her ears twitched every which direction hoping that she was just given a little longer to eat. The blood made her vision hazy as blood usually did and soon she found herself not getting enough. Snarls and woofs left from her throat as she gobbled down, not noticing that she was making unnecessary noise. She luckily was able to pull her teeth away from the corpse, her tongue licking the dripping remnants from her chin.

June 5, 2021 08:41 AM

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#892393
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[Okay, so sorry for the wait. My weekends are busier than my weekdays. But it doesn't help that I am preparing renovations. Who knew I had so much stuff! But I got some breather tonight to type this up.]

------

Creak... Slam! Creak... Slam!

Killian groaned. His feet shuffling him over to his casement window, where it thrashed in the harsh winds that blew through Koilus. Both hinged windows were dark brown wood, the glass clear and with its metal hinges rusted, it caused the irritating creaking sound every time the air moved them. The warlock seriously considered bolting them shut, yet he would miss the fresh air if he did. So, instead, he spends his nights having to close them and set up the intricate lock so they wouldn't be blown open again. With nimble fingers, he pulled the window shut and locked it. The glass shimmered as his candlelight shone on it, but it wasn't intense so it was easily ignored by the man.

Once that was done, Killian could go back to his desk and read the next chapter of 'Accounts of Lycan Myth' written by Philip Dezlen. It was an old book, one of his favourites. Was often read to him by his late mother, before her passing. Yet, now he had come to of werewolves, and most important, located right here in Koilus.

The dark-haired man passed through his cluttered seating room, avoiding the stacks of papers, scrolls and books as best he could in the dim lighting. When he reached his desk he seated himself in his wooden chair, pulling it up to the desk with a short screech before relaxing into it. His lantern had blown out from the previous wind so with a quick whisper he lit the candle again to continue what he already started. Blue eyes read over words that have been read a thousand times, werewolf types, habits, behaviour, appearance, location. It was all so fascinating and he couldn't get enough of it. Killion although knew that was an uncommon thought, he still believed he would one day actually see one. This belief was the reason he moved to Koilus.

In saying that, in all his seven years living in this village, he had yet to actually sight a Lycan. Disappointing, yes. But not demotivating. For Killian still believed he would one day come across one. Despite all the backlash from family, strangers and classmates when he attended the Wizardry Academy he pushed on. Of course, that didn't mean he disregarded his studies, he was a renowned warlock, powerful and well taught in all spells and incantations. So much that he thought this would help him in the future for his quest to find a lycan. So in Killian's mind, he was well prepared, patient and persevering.

Killian suddenly jumped at the sound of screaming, howling, growls and hooves beating hard on wet ground. It was so sudden, and so out of the ordinary that it brought Killian out of his reading daze. All the racket caused another disturbance in the warlocks downtime, it was frustrating. Could he not get one night of peace! With a sigh, the man stood from his seat, his knees cracked and he pulled his navy long jacket tighter around his shoulders before he trudged his way to the front door. The animal's cries didn't settle and were more panicked the longer it was prolonged like something was after them. That thought alone had fear course through Killian, and it quickened his motions. Swiping a lit lantern from his table he dashed out his front door.

The sounds came from up the path, where a flock of livestock lived. It was his neighbours, yet the old man was as deaf as a doorknob that he doubts he heard the commotion. It was dark, and since he lived near the forest there was little lighting. So the warlock had to keep his lantern high to light his path to the apparent nightmare happening up the road. He didn't even pass a house along the way, and it seemed further away with each step no matter how fast he walked. Killian decided to quicken his steps, his approach fast on the pen that kept the cows and sheep. He had his words ready to sprew spells left, right and centre for what caused the animals such fright. But before the warlock could make a sound he happened upon the cause of the disturbance.

There it stood. A large beast with its fur so dark that the colour black probably wasn't even dark enough to describe it. Their gleaming fangs sunken into one for the livestock, tearing it up with such ferocity that it sent chills down Killian's spine, yet he couldn't look away. Not even as the animal squealed and drew its last breath, or when the other animals cried in fear to escape the creature that ruined their night. Killian himself almost felt he was in a dream, for this could not be reality. Such a terrible yet fortunate thing to happen. For what he saw was not normal, although it looked like a wolf. It was too large for one, too ravenous, dangerous and smart. And when it turned its head, the symbol that Killian had read in so many books that declared one was a werewolf was displayed on his forehead, clear as day. A gasp left the man, his body shaking yet he couldn't move, for his blue eyes were glued to the wolf that feasted on its catch. And the only thing that escaped between his lips were.

"Warewolf."

June 6, 2021 02:35 AM

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#892725
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Her head lowered hesitantly as she licked the clumps of fur and bone remnants. Minor grunts of satisfaction left her throat. She knew that such a small livestock meal wouldn’t sustain her for long, maybe a day or two. Yet no matter how much she ate she always craved more. Instead of it quenching her hunger it only amplified it. It was probably due to the blood frenzy she gets every time she sees or smells any amount of blood. Luckily, by now she was managing to gain control of her decisions, her aggressive tendencies slipping away for the time being. Peering ahead of her she saw no movement. No men with torches and weapons littered the street. She was lucky that no one left their homes just yet. She knew if she wanted another meal then she would have to do it quickly. Now was the time to pick up the pace. Before she could ready herself to kill another plump livestock animal she heard movement behind her. It seemed to be a soft shift in the soil. At first, she didn’t think anything of it but she knew it was best to look. Her head turned, her blood-ridden muzzle dripping with blood. When she turned her head, her eyes locked with the man who seemingly snuck up on her. She was practically face-to-face with him as he watched her in awe. Accalia nearly towered over him but she wasn’t as big as the male werewolves. She had that relative bulky frame but males, compared to her, were much more full and muscular. The males would be taller than him, having to look down, while she was face-to-face with him.

For a long moment, she just stared, watching his every move. Accalia had seen such an expression before but not to this extreme. He looked as though he had found a lost item of his. Her gold eyes dug into him as she stared back curiously. Her ears swiveled but finally perked to hone in on the noises he was making. His breathing was rigged and startled. She could sense the fear he was feeling as it dripped off of him in waves. Accalia couldn’t help but be surprised that he hadn’t screamed for help yet. A sharp exhale slipped from her nose, blowing the hair out of his eyes in a sharp gust. How could she not have noticed him until the last minute? Now she understood as his scent filled her body. His smell. There was something off with it. He smelled like...what is it called...tainted? He didn’t reek as humans did. He smelled as if he were covered in magic or something of that sort. It was obvious that he didn't seem to be a regular human. No wonder why she didn’t spot him. She had been too absorbed in the obvious smell of humans to even pay attention to the other scents surrounding her. Now wasn’t the time to overthink this. In a matter of seconds after first seeing him, her ears dished and her fur began to prickle with agitation. A humming growl settled in her throat. Her lips twitched as her fangs began to show progressively. Alia’s black fur ruffled in the simple breeze of the night.

The light of his lantern glistened against her face and gold-colored eyes. Her features became more visible even with the dull luminescence. Her gold eyes glowed in an odd manner even without the light that currently helped them shine. Her teeth were bloodstained from her kill and her mouth still dripped with flesh and blood. The chilling growl that boomed from her throat only added to the ominous appearance she held. Just partially visible, the symbol on her forehead could be seen. It showed that she was indeed a werewolf but instead of just having the circle there was something odd about her werewolf mark. Her mark was tainted with an odd strike through the middle. She had learned over time that it represented her broken bond with her wolf side. Because of this broken bond, she would easily lose control, especially around the first sight of blood, and it caused her aggression to spike at great heights out of nowhere. On the contrary, it also represented that she was female. Was there supposed to be a female werewolf existing? No. That is possibly why her mark is ruined in the first place. It was hard to learn such knowledge since no book nor being had any information of such a mark or of any female werewolf. Now thinking about it, this man must think she is a big burly male werewolf. Well, that is if he had ever picked up a book in his life. She didn’t expect much of him since most humans are obsessed with other things rather than basic knowledge.

Her big paws slammed the ground in front of her, the snarl only getting deeper. She lowered her head, showing the prickling fur on her neck and back. She snapped her jaws at him but she never bit him. Her teeth chiseled with intimidation. But before she can make any hasty actions her ears flickered, hearing the illumination of torches. Doors began slamming in the distance, women calling out to their husbands to be safe, and men roaring in a disturbance that they had to even get out of bed at this time of night. Howls of concerned men crowded the streets, seeking to find the source of the ravenous noises. They staggered but soon they came marching down the road where the livestock still sturred. Damn it, she shouldn't have gotten distracted. There on the path through the village laid the heavily mauled remnants of her meal, proof that she was here. She didn’t even have time to clean it up. If they knew that they have a predator on their hands then she would possibly lose the privilege of even being able to sneak into the village. She now paid no attention to the man she had just seen. She had a bigger problem to deal with. Her stance changed immediately, her head lowering as she analyzed the situation. If she runs then they would follow her. She needed to find a way to get them off of her trail.

Even with a striking fear of torches and getting burned, she turned towards the men who were hustling down the street, not yet landing their eyes on her. She knew that if they did spot her then they would get hostile, it was only a matter of time. But she didn’t run away like a shamed animal would with its tail tucked between its legs. She promptly lunged forward, heading straight towards them. Even with her big burly body, she moved as silent as a mouse. Her fur swished elegantly as she moved with grace. Before she hit the sight of the men she promptly dodged into the shadows, not caring if the warlock was still capable of seeing her or not. She lowered her haunches, her ears dishing low. As the men came nearer her breathing grew even more silent. In a matter of seconds, she abruptly lunged out at them. The snarl that left her mouth was unlike any animal. It gurgled with fierceness and determination. Accalia knew she couldn’t face all of these men at once but she knew humans had a weakness. Humans were always scared by the littlest things. The moment she moved in front of them she swore she felt some of her fur sizzle from the torches. It only made Accacia’s adrenaline and aggression grow. The way she moved was exact and purposeful. She used her tail to keep her big body balanced as she missed. She missed her lunge on purpose, it being only a means of spooking them. The moment she had steam-plowed in front of them, they dropped the torches and yowled. The flames wooshed as it hit the ground, easily catching flames to the dry foliage. The flames crackled and popped as they grew in size. It bubbled in fury as it cut off the humans’ paths to her. With a fire growing like that there was no way they could follow her. Meanwhile, the moment she pounced, she dodged sideways so the fire didn't land on her. Her paws skidded for a mere second. She snapped her teeth at them a few times, a wild clicking noise of her fangs filling the air. That accompanied by the dense noises that came from her throat was sure to get her message across. Her paws abruptly turned as she hauled herself away in a blunt run. Now she was making noise as her paws pounded on the ground, her tail lashing, and her sharp breathing letting out swift growls.

Her eyes gleamed through the night as she traveled out of the village. She didn’t care to clean up her mess of animal remnants. Alia leaped and bounded up the hills and grasses as she found herself deep in the cover of foliage. She was now safe but something still caused her to ponder. Was it a good idea to go back there again?

June 10, 2021 07:53 AM

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#894189
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There was a story, a well-known one that started the myths of the werewolf. It was of a strong man, one of the bravest in the village. He was such an idol that when rumors of the wolf appeared, he was one of the first to help a hunting party to track it down. Soon when they came across such a creature that was when they faced the true beast. A large stark black wolf with a striking white circle symbol, he seemed far more intelligent than his brethren. It was as much of an amazing sight as it was horrific as the wolf stood alone among many other smaller wolf corpses. The strong village man was the only one to survive that encounter and returned home. He soon became a hunter and for years he hunted that wolf, a battle between the two as they danced around each other in hopes one would get the upper hand. But one day, the man was visited by another man. His hair darker than obsidian, he was tall, and yet his symbol upon his head was so familiar. The strong man invited him inside, and then, in the end, the man was tricked as the stranger changed, his pale skin grew black with fur, his face morphed into that of a wolf and soon stood the large wolf with the striking symbol upon his forehead...

"The strong man drew a tired breath as he lay on his blood-stained floors, regretful of his encounter. And a staggering proof that no matter how strong there is always a beast within. For everyone who encountered the 'werewolf' would without a doubt become one them self."

The soft-spoken woman closed the book gently, her delicate hands traced the intricate pattern on the leather cover. As though they followed an endless stream of mystery. The person who crafted such beautiful work was obviously very practiced in his arts and most likely very well-paid. But it was the author that brought that book alive. His story was thrilling and yet very sad.

"What happened to him?" A young child asked.

The blue-eyed woman gazed at her son, a soft smile growing as she raised a hand to gently stroke the boy's face, twirling a strand of his dark curly hair around her index finger. "He was bitten by the wolf, what do you think happened?"

The boy had to ponder for a moment. The story had been read to him every night for the past week, and they had just finished the last chapter. The last words mentioned a beast inside. Did that mean that man could be turned into beasts? "That's scary." He mumbled, shuffling under the thick covers of his bed, pulling the sheets up to his face as though this created a barrier to the dangerous outside world.

The woman mealy chucked as her hand then pat the boy's head in comfort. "No need to worry Killian, I am always here to protect you." She drew him into a hug, her slender arms wrapping around his small shoulders. As though she was really hiding him from the world, and all the scary and bad things that could get to her precious son.

-

Killian wasn't sure why such a memory was brought to the forefront of his mind, it was a tender moment, one of the most important of his sweet and caring mother. Who was taken from this world, and taken from him too soon. He didn't have many of her and wished she was there just that bit longer. And even more now as he had such an encounter like the one from the story.

The warlock's attention was drawn to the werewolf, he actually existed, they were real, and they were right here in Koilus. The village was so out the middle of nowhere, far from the city and with many rumors of wolves, in fact, a lot of stories and biographies were based in Koilus. And there he stood, the large beast was indeed not a figment of Killian's imagination. There was no way he could get so close to the wolf if he was not real, to the feel of their breath on his face, and with the smell of blood in the air as with the sight of it after the wolf had obviously finished his meal. It was unreal and yet so magnificent at the same time. For most, this would be a horrific sight and a night of terror and nightmares. Yet for Killian is was a night where his dream came true.

With a thundering growl, and the beast shifting his position. Killian felt shivers jolt in him, his hands sweaty as his mouth remained parted in surprise. The wolf had now started to approach him, was growling at him, with his ears cast back and his teeth bared. It was enough to almost destroy the dreamlike haze over Killian. But he remained frozen in place as he watched the creature. They were simply breathtaking, and nothing could replace the awe that Killian felt. For so long, for so many years the warlock has been searching.

Shouts in the distances were enough to break the haze, as the realisation came upon Killian. The villagers. They did not understand, nor did they want to. For when Killian arrived he was ostracised for his hobbies. They knew what he wanted, and they knew how silly his dreams were. So they left him alone. The dark-haired man had wanted to prove them wrong, and now he could. But in reality, they would want to kill the werewolf, like in those many stories. Actually, now that he remembered, werewolves could turn humans into beasts. That sinking feeling entered his gut as he imagined what would happen if he were turned. Excitement, fear, both? But Killian didn't have time to think of such things. With focus, he turned his attention to the oncoming villagers. It was maybe not the best thing with a literal werewolf behind him, but he was not in such as clear a thought as he is usually.

Before Killian could do anything, he watched as the werewolf lunged forward towards the villages. The warlock wanted to shout out, but he ended up tripping in the process, his legs tangled in ropes near the pen. His gaze flickered to the animal's briefly, fear still evident in their eyes as they pinned themselves into a corner, hoping they could hide among each other from the beast that fed upon their fellow herd member. Killian shook his head and refocused on the werewolf, He was now growling and lunging at the villages, their torches dropping and starting a fire between them. It was obvious to Killian as he watched from afar. The wolf seemed to only be scaring them for his teeth never reach nor got too close. Warnings at best. But must have seemed like the end of their life for some of the poor men.

Everything happened so fast that by the time Killian was standing everything was over, the werewolf on their way and having done what they had come to do. This night, he did not regret leaving the house, did not regret staying up just that little bit later to read his book. This encounter would never have happened otherwise. The warlock glanced down at his close, covered in enough dirt that it caused a grumble to leave the man. He brushed his pale hands on the front of his shirt hopefully to remove most of the debris. Before he left for his home he took one more glance into the forest ahead. Where the werewolf disappeared from the village, Killian simply looked on with amazement. He honestly couldn't describe how he felt, it was so unreal. To have actually met a real werewolf, yet something was different about him... Like the symbol on his forehead, it wasn't right. Not like the stories.

June 16, 2021 03:46 PM

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Fur fluttered in the cold night breeze, underneath the mysterious stars that began to fade. Gold-colored eyes gleamed the sensations of the night, trickling with glitter like the stream just to the north. Her legs could only take her so much farther. She couldn’t pound her paws on the rough ground any longer. Her legs twisted underneath her ultimately resulting in her losing her balance. She stumbled in a mere attempt to save herself from the tumble among the sharp foliage beneath her. At that exact moment, she was forced to shift into her human form. Her knees pressed against the grass, her hands placed in front of her to retain her balance as she took deep gasps for air. She was practically hyperventilating from running for what felt to be forever. Losing control as a wolf always took a chunk out of her energy. She could usually last days in such a form, not having to turn back to a human. Well, that is if she doesn’t continue to rampage through the town in hopes to catch a meal. But the moment she loses control, blood being the main reason why, it takes a while to gain back control. It is almost like that wild instinct of her wolf side kicks in, her logic slipping away. She couldn’t reason on whether it was the smell, taste, or sight of it that set her off. Possibly all. No matter how much she had endeavored to grasp her control, it always slips away. As she loses her sanity, she tends to get overwhelmed and it causes a spike in her aggression. Later on, Alia’s vision grows drastically blurry and soon she forgets how to control her movements, later regretting something she has done as a result of such behavior. Luckily this time it passed before she could do anything corrupt.

“Damn it,” She whispered, spitting some blood out of her mouth. The blood wasn’t her own but of the livestock, she had slaughtered. Accalia didn’t feel any empathy for the animal, even when she had its blood on her tongue and lips. As a wolf, there was no room for empathy. She needed to do what she had to do to survive and if killing an innocent animal was a choice she had to make then she would gladly do so. Alia had experienced a wolf hesitate before and it only resulted in them dying in the end. That is one of the many reasons why she won’t hesitate. She raised her fingertips to her lips, dapping the rich dark blood off of her lips. It was dark and thick against her skin, still having a fresh stench. She didn’t expect to have that much on her lips. Sure, it was delicious in her wolf form, and rather addictive, but it sure had a putrid taste when she was back human. It tasted like rusted iron on her tongue, burning her throat if she dared to swallow it. Accalia wiped the rest from her face onto her arm. She didn’t care for it to become smeared across her skin, as long as it wasn’t in or near her mouth any longer.

In a belated effect, Accalia collapsed on her back, staring up at the sky that was beginning to lighten from the rays of the morning sun. The trees around her gave her enough coverage and shade while leaving her enough visibility of the stars slowly disappearing. The leaves swayed in the mystical breeze as if it were trying to speak to her. It whispered like it knew she wasn’t human. The silence surrounding her, other than the mild wind, accompanied by the gorgeous sights of nature and the sky, relaxed her. Her blood-stained fingers, from nudging the blood off of her mouth, lifted from her sides. She reached towards the sky, wishing the moon didn’t disappear during the morning time. Alia loved the moon. Maybe it was because her veins were thick with the haste of a werewolf but it was something she couldn’t help. Accalia had heard many human poems of the beautiful orb that lit up the sky but they were laced with such little passion about the angelic effect it has. She grasped her fingers into a tight fist, knowing fully that she would never reach what she wanted. Unsatisfied, she draped her arm over her eyes as she allowed her thoughts to slink away.

She laid still, her body pressed against the prickly grasses and twigs. Accalia is a petite girl, only standing 5’1”. It isn’t noticeable when she is alone in nature but it is when she is around her kind. Usually, werewolves are in the 6’1 range or higher, but that is pertaining to males. Even comparing to a mere low-life human she is short. It is odder that her wolf is large yet her size is different in her human form. Her black-kissed hair always slinked around her face, fluffy and tampered with, yet it oddly appeared nice. Her skin, fair and smooth with little blemishes other than the blood droplets that littered her face, her not caring to wipe it off. Accalia’s eyes, especially in the sunlight become a milky gold, unlike her wolf form which is a hardened milky gold. Even though she represents a human there is a distinctly odd feature that draws away from her human form. It isn’t the mark on her forehead that said she was a werewolf. Accalia is accompanied by a wolf tail and wolf ears in her human form. Her tail and wolf ears were fluffier than her regular wolf fur, carrying the same black coloring that was blacker than black. Most werewolves had the ability to hide these features but Accalia was unable to. She concluded that it must be because of her detachment to her wolf side. Her part human, part wolf sides weren’t in sync, leaving a great defect for her to cope with.

As she pondered under the sun that kissed the horizon, there was a distinct moment that came through her mind. A memory of when she adventured in the human village. The man she locked eyes with….why did he act so odd….and smell odd. He had persisted there, amazed like he had just found a lost object which had gone missing for years. Accalia couldn’t remember many distinct features about him other than the expression on his face and the stench he carried. Alia could only assume that he was a human that tampered in dark magic, but usually, those humans who do so come across ill and smell deathly. The only way she could describe him was tainted. But tainted by what?

A couple of days drifted on since the incidence of entering the town. She found it to be in her best interest to lay low for now. Every night within the town was now hushed. The animals found themselves to be in the peace and quiet, not stirred by a startling predator. In the morning, there were no paw prints nor a carcass left behind, and no sign of a werewolf. It was amusing to hear the rumors the silly humans spoke with their thick accents. Predictions of it being a bear...no some sort of enlarged feline? They couldn’t make up their minds. That at least caused her some ease that there weren’t rumors of a wolf spilling about. Even though she grew cautious as each day passed that doesn’t mean she didn’t stalk around at night. Accalia would roam among the outskirts of town in the denser shrubbery. She would watch from a distance as the humans stayed alert ever since that night she caused such a commotion. They kept their lanterns on at all times now in hopes to be alerted of the mighty beast before it caused a ruckus. No matter how tempting it was to hunt on their grounds she knew better, and she kept silent.

But along with the silence grew hunger. Her hunger started in her head, not sure whether she had a taste for a meal or not. She would go through moments of thinking she was hungry but concluding she wasn’t. It was hard to believe that a meal she only had a few days ago could metabolize so efficiently. The hunger grew at an astonishing speed through her veins, causing pain in her stomach, altering her instincts. Everything that stirred around her, even the littlest bird, she was aware of. Her ears flicked back and forward in hopes a bigger meal would arrive but she knew hoping wouldn’t change the fact of her hunger. Anything that moved she had the instinct to chase it. Her paws would alter at the quickest speeds but she would have to halt at the last minute, knowing it wasn’t worth it. This instinct was worse in her wolf form since she had that canine instinct to hunt but she had no choice but to be in this form. If she was in her human form then her starvation would grow worse by the second. Her only hope was another venture to the town but she couldn’t, not when she could potentially be endangered. In the meantime of her mixed feelings and hunger pains, she would find peace in making marks in trees. She would continuously claw through the dense bark, uncovering the softened wood underneath. This was a mere distraction for herself as well as an awful warning for newcomers. But she knew she could only distract herself for so long. She needed to do something….anything….just for a simple meal….because she knew she would lose control if she didn’t.

June 20, 2021 08:34 AM

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Killian slowly made his way back down the path, the dark surrounded him as he neared his small house on the outskirts. The forest was nearing with each step he took, and so did his house that sat just on the outer part of the woods. Before his trek back, after the wolf was gone, the fire had to be doused with the help of Killian. Many villagers were awake by then and had come to the scene, all questioning what had happened and what they saw. The brown-haired man really couldn't stay, he gave a recount on what he saw, although not all was the truth. And after things seem to settle, the warlock decieded to return home. It was a slow walk, more of a stroll down the dirt road, his lantern held lazily in his right hand. More in his thoughts then wathcing were he went, not that is was an issue since he knew the layout of the land quite well.

This night had to be one of the most memorable moments of Killian's life. It made it well worth the young man's time to venture outside, risk his safety as he trecked towards the sound of the livestocks cries. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his hands shaky as he gripped tightly on his light, and his heart had beat so quickly he could hear it in his head. But all those feelings and nerves were nothing compared to the sight he came upon when he arrived. His breath was taken away with wide eyes, he was speechless as a large black wolf with the symbol of the werewolf stood in the clearing.

Now that he thought about it, something was off about this wolf. Not that Killian could really compare what he saw, he had no examples or any concrete knowledge of a present werewolf, since all books and scolls on the creatures were quite dated, or either stories that were completely fabricated. But something still wasn't what he thought, and the more he reminisced over his memory; that was far more blurry then he would have liked. Nothing really came to mind. None of the texts, or old drawings could resolve what was missing or different about the wold. And since he couldn't figure it out, the warlock knew this would be a little worm in the back of his mind for days if not weeks. Yet his overworked mind couldn't bring up any suggestions of what it was. Finally, with a sigh, he let it go.

He was fast approching on his house, and had arrived at his door sooner then he thought. The door gave without much budging, welcoming the man into the dark home before being shoved closed and leant on. The warlock rubbed his blue eyes, they were hazy with exhaustion but did shine bright in the once dark entrance area. His back pressed firmly against the wood, his lantern provided some light but not enough to light the entire room. He honestly didn't want to sleep, although his body was grieving for it, his mind was active, thoughts popping into his mind and leaving just as quick. He still couldn't reason with the wolf's difference, but maybe if he looked over some books he might figure it out.

"Sleep, master." A 'hiss' sounded in the room, the words cold yet also not real. Killian looked to the location the voice came from and took notice of the black cat that sat perched on his desk, her eyes wide and all knowing.

"That does sound like an idea, I'm so tired. Yet the most amazing thing happened."

"I know, we were watching." She replied, unmoving from her spot, simply just watching her master. She was the most apathetic of all of Killian's Familiars, not that the warlock blamed her. All his familiars were once dead, he contated their spirit and created a bond with them to create them into familiars. Sibil's previous life wasn't the most joyious, it was a hard life for felines in the big city after all.

Killian simply nodded in affirmation and took her advice, though his mind was busy he knew he didn't have the energy to go all night. So with a last goodnight to Sibil he trekked his way to his room, where he found Chalice and Alder resting on their perches and homes.

---

Several days later and Killian had much recovered after the event. The town were in quite an uproar and the last meeting was quite disasterious as not one person could seem to remember the details. Like a spell was casted over the night. Luckily, Killian remembered. Since as of right now he was currently researching. He had spent most of his time inside, reading all and any texts that could give him information on what he saw. Although nothing really happened other then the wolf was quite agressive and hungy, dazed even. Which he couldn't tell was unusual or not, and in his books that could describe such behavious was nothing detailed. Most about a young werewolf not having control when he was first turned... not much and not too uncommen for newly turned wolves.

The warlock sat bent over his desk, both hands supporting his head as they rubbed his temples. He was sick of being indoors but he just couldn't stop, not now that he was so close. His familiars had been running around keeping him updated on the happenings of the villiage, but had nothing on the wolf. Killian sighed, his eyes had read the same line almost four times now, and nothing was really sinking in. If only he could see him again, the wolf in the flesh. So the warlock could study him in person. That would be amazing.

Alder, a dark crow watched Killian closely, he was the first of the familiars and the oldest. He had patience of an old man but the engery of a kid. "You are sitting here again like you did when you first arrived here. So excited yet so tired of getting nowhere." Killian hummed, he would say he wasn't listening or more he wish he wastn't, but he took in every word that Alder spoke. "You were also crazy then too, books everywhere..." Alder ignored the still pile of books that litered the dinning table. "Late nights, and hey, even the traps you set all over the forest. Like what a waste of time!"

That's when something clicked inside Killian's mind. It was like a light bulb went off and it sounded like the most perfect thing that had come across him. "The traps, that's it!" Killian cried out. He almost jumped out of his seat, the most action he had done in days. A couple books were knocked off his desk yet Killian moved past them and into the bedroom, where more piles of books were scattered around on every surface. It looked like a mess, and yet everything was organised to Killian, each stack had their own topics that matched with each other. The warlock had dived into one of the piles, pushing notes, scrolls and books in all directions in search of just one.

"Ah ha!"

Alder watched with mild worry, his master had finally gone insane.

Killian opened the book, and inside was information of werewolves biography. It included details of their appearance, behavious, strengths and weaknesses. One such detail of their weakness was silver. "That might work, I wonder if it will. Hopefully it does." Killian shut the book and tossed it gently back onto the pile. Tredding back into the living room as he went off to gather a few supplies. An idea was forming in his mind, one that may actually catch the wolf.

---

It only took a day and he was ready. The plan was simple, lay the bait to attract the wolf and then hope he will come, triggering the trap to drop a silver chained net on top, trapping the werewolf. Of course there were several things that could go wrong, like silver wasn't a weakness, the bait was faulty or even the wolf never came. But Killian couldn't ponder on those thoughts anymore, not when he sat in hiding with his eye on the clearing. He was crouched down, his clothes dark browns and navy, his brown curly hair tied back into a low pony, though not as messy as it usually is. Afterall, he had spent all night creating the bait potion and crafting the net.

Alder was his lovely bait for this event, Killian having created a potion and small spell to turn the crow into a delectiable bait, wounded and ready to be feasted upon. Hopefully a deer is appetising. With Alder standing in the clearing, unimpressed with the current situation yet going through with it anyways. He was going to complain but with such a find as seeing a real life werewolf, Alder didn't have the heart to put a damper on Killians dreams and inspiration. So here he stood, waiting. Hoping the wolf would arrive but at the same time do come here. The crow now turned injuried deer glanced up at the trap, a silver net hung high in the trees hidden, which was convient for this plan to work. He couldn't really see it, but there was a small rope that wraped around the tree and disappeared into the bush where Killian was hiding. It was connected to the trap and was a manual activated trap just to make sure nothing went wrong.

Now all they had to do was wait.

June 22, 2021 03:09 AM