Board Thread:Archive/@comment-24866242-20140611031928

((ooc: I've combined 2 related stories into this one))

Story: A Small Reward Caedwynne posted June 16, 1998 03:09 PM

The gentle summer breeze licked softly at the hem of the heavy cloak, but the figure concealed within its folds did not seem to notice. The moons night had an ominous quality to it and the shadows of the trees surrounding the form seemed as if trying to protect it. The night, this place, they all remembered the lone figure even after all these months.

How many times had she stood here so long ago? How many times had she tried to see into the manor too far even for her newly developed senses? How long ago had she cared? She sighed softly as she realized none of it mattered any more. She had only returned for one thing.

She had been standing there for hours. A silent sentinel lost in a flurry of thoughts and memories just beyond the property line she once knew so well. She was not wanted here. This small thought passed over her quickly, leaving behind no regrets. She had watched as the glow of the lights had diminished one by one until there was nothing but pure blackness over the place she knew the manor to be. Still, she waited. She gave the occupants another hour to slip deeply into their own world of dreams and torments before completing what she had come here to do.

Slowly, she pushed herself away from the tree she had been leaning on. A low, odd whistling came from the darkness of the cloaks hood, followed moments later by the faintest sound of shattering glass in the distance. Her wait would soon be over.

She smelled him before she saw him. She could smell his excitement, smell his fear. He knew who had called to him, yet he approached crouched and cautious. Again the whistle slipped from the depths of the cloak and, although the cautiousness in his movements did not change, she could see he was happy to see her. Silently, she squatted before him, a leather clad hand slowly stretching itself from the folds of the heavy cloak. He raised his head, sniffed the air, then growled low in his throat. A third whistle transformed the growl into a soften whimper as he stepped within her reach.

She leaned forward slightly, gently resting her hand on his head in comfort. He knew she meant him no harm and, with another step closer, he stopped in front of her, his head tilted in an unasked question.

She was torn at that moment. She had preformed flawlessly the past several months. He was to be the reward for her devotion. Yet, she knew there were two sides to every reward. If she returned with him, he would only be made into one more device to be used against her. Still, as she felt his lips nuzzling her glove, she knew there would be no turning back.

Quickly, she stood, the silent hand signals that had been their language for so many years instinctively returning to her. Obediently, he fell into step on her right side, letting her lead him for once. Away from this place that was his safety. Away from a past best left to the dust of memories. Neither of them looked back as she brought him further into her world. Both were indifferent to what was left behind.

Caedwynne posted February 28, 2003 01:13 PM

The fog curled around her feet like an old friend welcoming her into its icy folds. Its constant shifting gave the heavily cloaked woman the appearance of a wraith-like creature prowling the night for a soul to feed on. In truth, she was prowling…. hunting… as she did most moonless nights in the back alleys of whatever dirty city or town she found herself in at that moment. She didn’t even bother to keep track of their names any longer. One was always like another.

She paused for a moment, head tilted slightly as if listening… or…. possibly sniffing the air. The dark shadows the hood cast over her face enhanced the wraith-like appearance. If anyone had been aware enough... or dared enough… to look, nothing but a black void would have greeted them. The cloak itself covered her entirely, though its use was not to keep out the cold…merely the curious. Cold did not bother her any longer. Darkness was her constant ally and the best of friends. She needed nothing else… well…. almost nothing.

She had come to grips with her life (as it was now) a long time ago. It had been years since her…. conversion. Still, on rare nights, when the hunger wasn’t upon her, she couldn’t help but reflect on what she had been once. Normal…. human. Granted, she had had her faults at the time… the biggest being her lack of sight… and on those rare occasions when that other woman invaded her thoughts, she almost found herself missing that life. It would never last long, though. The hunger saw to that.

Silently, she shifted in the shadows an unseen smile passing over her lips for a mere instant before her gauntlet-covered hands shifted the cloak to reveal the black fur covered body beneath. There wasn’t much by way of clothing covering her, just a simple cloth across her groin area. Gold, however, glinted faintly, catching what little light it could in the darkness surrounding her. Medium sized rings pierced her most womanly parts and chains dangled lightly from them. A “gift” from the man who had made her as she was now. She barely noticed them any longer. Still, for some reason, her prey always seemed hypnotized by them….reaching out to touch them as if in disbelief of their solidity.

This one was no different. She had smelled him long before he made his appearance around the corner. It was the one drawback to her hunting….the smell of some of them. Still…. he would do.

She had watched him earlier that night as he had robbed an old woman of her bread money. He had terrorized the poor woman to near fainting. It was only befitting that he be her choice this night. Terror begat terror. The old woman’s money had obviously been used for drink…. he reeked of it…. It was a shame he couldn’t have put it towards a nice hot bath. Still, he did not stumble nearly as much as others had. Perhaps he would be more of a challenge…more of a game.

She stepped from the shadows and caught his sight instantly. As those before him, he was shocked at first…perhaps a little frightened. But the fear soon turned to lust as he realized what was before him….offered him like some prize. Without hesitation, he moved forward and grabbed her, one arm pulling her to him as his free hand reached for one of the rings. She let him, slightly disappointed there would be no sport again this night.

He had managed to undo himself, thrusting into her without care as she let the hunger wash over her. This was always part of it. He rutted with force, taking what he wanted, not knowing that, in return, he was giving what she needed. He would soon pay for his indiscretion.

As the passion grew to a fevered pitch, she let out a sudden cry, the sound causing the man before her to instantly realize his mistake. The cry would not be human, but rather a mixture of beasts. There would be no escape for him now.

The moment she found her release, she threw her head back, revealing the black furred face of something no longer of his race. Baring teeth closer to fangs, she suddenly buried them into his throat, ripping chunks of flesh away. He would never scream. His terror would soon be over.

His life slowly slipped from him as she held him tightly, drinking his blood and ripping pieces of meat from him. He had grown soft when he realized he held his own death in his arms, but that was of little matter to her. She cared for nothing but the taste of him….the power his ebbing life-force gave her. Tonight she fed. That was all that mattered.

Matt posted February 28, 2003 09:29 PM

The sign read “Silv-Ance”.

That is until you approached a bit closer, upon which you could clearly tell it in fact said “Silver-Lance”, the paint having long ago pealed away from the rotting wood that hung like a bug from four links of rusted chain mounted to a stone crossbar. The crossbar was in turn set into a stone pillar, part of the landscape that just happened to be in the right spot for a sign. The road approaching the sign was little more than a mud trough due to the recent rain. It passed by the nametag, winding its way up the valley slope, only to end its uneventful journey at the base of a larger pile of weathered stones and wood some locals decided to call a keep.

Scattered about the base of the keep, was a dim collection of homes and huts for those that worked the land and served the seldom seen lords of the keep. Their thatched roofs shedding the water as best they could, sending small waterfalls of rain cascading from the three story tall structures to the earth below, turning into yet more mud for the villagers to cake on their overworked shoes. Some places near the more important looking buildings were paved with ill-repaired cobblestone. Here the water merely pooled into great ponds that provided the occasional drunk with a sewer to drown themselves in.

If one looked through the curtain of rain, people could be seen going about their business as usual. It seemed rain was a poor excuse to stop working for those that could ill afford to loose even a single days pay. Oxen pulled wagons, and people scampered from overhand to overhang, briefly lit by hooded oil lamps that where spaced too far apart to be truly useful.

Closest to the keep one particular building shone with more light from it’s windows than the rest, and when approached, could be heard to emit the loud noises of talking and socializing from those rich enough or lucky enough to stop working before the day had fully run its long course. A drinking hall for the higher class of the lowest caste, as was evidenced by the surrounding buildings of mostly stone that protected and surrounded their rowdy brother like bullies.

Out of this particular hall, a man was thrown rather unceremoniously out the front door. Cries of outrage followed him out onto the stone landing. The man lay there for a few minutes in the rain before he pulled himself to uncertain feet. He wheeled his stout frame about and began lurching off down the street, presumably home. His path led him between buildings and over a small rain slick bridge where he fell hard with a grunt. In his struggle to rise again he absently thrust his hands into his pockets to reaffirm the fact he was without money. Rage burned in him, fueled by humiliation and alcohol. It could be seen on his face, and the townsfolk gave him a wide berth as they crossed the bridge to their respective errands.

Not to be thwarted, he looked about, periodically brushing his wet hair from his eyes. Inevitably he found what he sought. An old woman foolishly counting a few coins in her hand as she stood at the door to a bakery, above the door was “GrindStone” painted in green. Another glance about showed the area empty of onlookers.

He was on her quickly, her scream cut short by a painful slap to the face. He pulled her meager coin-purse from her belt, but when it did not immediately give to his rude ministrations, he pulled a hunting knife from his own. A slice took off the purse and left the old woman with her shirt dangling loose about her, no longer supported by a severed belt. She swooned and fell, but the man spent no more time on her, he had what he wanted, his pride avenged on the week, and funds enough to find the drink he craved to drown himself in.

He wobbled his way to another, smaller bar, the lady all but forgotten in the filth behind him. He had no time to notice the figure that shadowed him, and would have cared less if he knew that the lady was even now being helped to her feet by a foreign traveler. The rain was stopping. So at least he would be dry on his way home that night, after a few drinks, of course…

Matt posted March 06, 2003 01:36 AM

“Are you all right?”

The old lady looked uncomprehendingly at the foreigner, even though he spoke in her tongue. Though he was what most would call handsome in shape and feature, in charisma he seemed imposing and dangerous. His long dark brown hair framed a face used to the hardships of the road, perhaps life in general. Eyes seemed like darkened glass in the dim light.

Even though his words were those of a concerned man, the only thing the old lady could see was a dangerous six foot beast not unlike a curious bear in the woods. Her already stricken brain decided the best course of action was to play dead. Perhaps then the beast would go away. He looked her over thoroughly before letting her be. He knew the effect he could have on people, and moved away once he saw she was not seriously injured. Likewise, as soon as she thought he was far enough away, the old woman quickly got to her feet, opened the nearby wood paneled door to the bakery, and slipped inside It seemed fear brought youthful speed back to her for the moments it took.

The foreigner turned his attention to the direction the mugger ran, deep hood turning to let the scene reach his sight in measured sections, but only found dark houses and streets abandoned by sensible folk. At first it looked as though the assaulting drunkard had made a clean get away. Perhaps it was for the best, Achroyeir had only just arrived. If he had caught the mugger, there would be no doubt the townsfolk would find his methods of justice a bit brutal. They would most certainly drive him out of town again. Something he did not want until he at least had time to trade for some supplies, and perhaps hear some news.

He was about to turn to other business when movement caught his attention. A shape, both lithe and graceful detached itself from a rooftop shadow and leapt away in the direction he last saw the assaulter. Now curious, he decided to follow. It was not terribly difficult since he had only traveled to the next street when he saw the shadow drop to the ground, and stand slowly to a more publicly accepted posture. Definitely a lady, she began to walk down the street looking periodically around, like she was testing the air. Had he not seen her origins, he would have never guessed she was any more than a lady walking the streets unattended. Like…. Bait.

Her hood kept him from viewing her features as she looked down streets and into darkened parks for whatever she was looking for. It did not take long for her to disappear once again from his site. Deciding he was not in a mod to confront or harass what was most likely a young stalker, he took a seat near a few lopsided baskets, and proceeded to eat dinner. The sounds coming from the nearby door spoke of yet another drinking establishment.

He dozed for a short while, letting the wickerwork, and surrounding buildings take him in as one of their own. He drifted off to better days, when daylight graced a field of wheat too golden to be anything more than a memory. Adventurous days, filled with wonder at the simple mystery of what might be in the next thatch or under a loose rock. Lost in a childhood of dreams…

BAM! The sudden sound of a door opening too fast jolted him to full alert. Achroyeir watched as a familiar figure staggered out of the bar next to him and stumbled its way down the street. Getting himself off the ground, he hit the dirt off his clothing, and began to follow. He did not intend to confront the man. His momentary rage had subsided enough that he no longer felt extreme measures were necessary. Instead, he intended to follow the cretin home, and make sure he caused no more trouble this night. Perhaps he would then report the man to the local authority afterward.

It was only a few short streets down that the man suddenly stopped and turned to investigate something in an alleyway between two rather vacant looking houses. The mist had risen after the rain. It pulled into the void between the buildings as the air currents where betrayed by their presence. Whatever the man saw, started him at first, then attracted him enough to brave the ally. He disappeared from view.

Achroyeir stepped cautiously to the corner, and was greeted by the unexpected sound of lust. He peered around the corner, to find the man and his previous encounter, the hooded lady, locked in carnal embrace. It had happened so quickly that Achroyer surmised the two must have known each other, perhaps meeting like this nightly. They rutted with wild abandon, not bothering with any type of foreplay. It seemed clear that the lady was not suffering or struggling. In fact see seemed to be quite helpful in bringing the drunk man to climatic release. He had her up against the wall, one hand fondling a large brass ring that pierced her exposed nipple. His handling of her was extremely rough, abusive even. The rhythmic grunts of the lady rose until she let loose with a terrifyingly inhuman bestial cry of release. She threw back her head, and with it her hood. In place of a human head, the moonlight revealed the feline features of a predator, flashing white teeth in long claws. Savagely the creature buried her jaws in the neck of the doomed man. Crimson began spouting from the victims neck.

A look of uncomprehending fear stretched across the mans face. He was obviously as surprised as Achroyeir himself, as he quickly died under the savage ministrations of his former lover without so much as a parting gasp. Ribbons of blood and flesh soon laced the walls of the ally. The “lady” then began to feed off the new corpse, pulling strands of flesh from the bones with a vigor born of hunger suppressed far too long.

Achroyeir almost stepped forward then, but thought better of it. Perhaps his luck had changed this night. To him, what he had just witnessed was simply a just, albeit quite surprising, fate served this night to a man this community could do better off without. Perhaps also, this lady creature may also have some insight or information into that which he was seeking. It would be more likely to be in the possession of this predator than in any of the townsfolk. So he backed away and across the street, pulling his cloak tight about himself, and waited.

He knew any sane man would had fled from a site such a this. Yet even in this light, it could be clearly seen, sanity had long ago left Achroyeir. In it’s place was determination, and cold discipline. He did not like to think of himself as insane, rather he preferred the term “enlightened”. This was why, when the “lady” had finished eating, and appeared at the mouth of the ally, he stood his ground from across the street.

“I would like to talk with you. I think we may have something in common.” His words, were pleasantly deep.

Caedwynne posted March 06, 2003 01:41 PM

Hunger and lust … and even a sense of justice…satisfied, she let the cloak fall back over her shoulders. Survival dictated that she would have to find a place to wash and soon. Capture was not an option in any condition, but it would be worse for her, blood-soaked as she was.

His voice caught her attention immediately and she cursed herself for not being more diligent. She should have sensed him there in the shadows, but she had begun to feel…. secure. Not safe… never safe … but less and less afraid of the shadows and what could lurk within. Jason had eyes everywhere and to forget that would mean… no… she wouldn’t think about it.

Slowly, she turned to the darkness from which the voice had come. Her keen sight picked him out with ease and she tensed. Her voice was soft, but somehow, she knew he would hear.

“So … through you…he’s found me. Are you different from the others? Will you be more of a ... challenge?” She bared her teeth, her body crouching lower to the ground as she prepared for battle. Often, they were more difficult after a feeding, but her strong sense of survival and love for freedom always claimed her winner no matter how close the end result.

“You’ll not have me in his cage this night or any other, sir. Perhaps your life could be spared if you were to send that message to your Master.”

The tilt of his hood lifted as he snorted his distain at her use of the word “Master” but his body remained relaxed. This would not fool her, however.

"I am under no mans thrall.” His voice was deep, yet with an edge to it, yet as he spoke again, the sound shifted … the edge gone… replaced by a sound almost soothing. ”I work for myself alone. I did not come here to challenge or capture you. I did not even know you existed till but a few hours ago. Given the appearance of you under that cloak, however, I would say we have much in common."

Her eyes narrowed to mere slits as she tried to break through the wall of blackness within the folds of his hood. It would do Jason little good to send another like herself to the capture. He would know that the battle would be fierce and it would be highly unlikely either would survive. No. He would want her to survive… if nothing else, to provide him with the enjoyment of breaking her again.

“Your name.” She dared to demand it from the man, something she would never have done in a previous time. She remained alert, though her curiosity had begun to edge forward, tickling the often murdered and buried hope of an ally.

She would never hear his answer that night, provided he had been willing to give it in the first place. Two doors down from where they stood, a crashing broke the near silence of the night as several men exited the tavern through the dirt covered front window. Although the game inside had started out friendly, it had now turned violent at the realization that one among them cheated. Other occupants of the bar staggered out behind the brawling bunch and were loudly placing bets on the winner.

For an instant, her attention had been drawn to the sudden sounds, her already tense body moving as if having a mind of its own. Quickly, she took a last look at the stranger before disappearing down the alley once again. He too had been distracted, though she was sure it would not be for long.

She moved fast, paying no heed to what remained of her night’s lover. She knew the crates were stacked high against the wooden fence, but not high enough for her to falter in her escape. In a flash of dark gray cloak, she disappeared from the alley and from the town.

In the morning, the people would speak in hushed whispers of the devil beast that had killed Charlie Nichols. Few would morn him, but all would find themselves clutching to their various faiths to keep the evil from their door.

Matt posted March 07, 2003 12:21 PM

A moment was all it took.

The ruckus from the bar had turned his head. When he looked back to the ally she was gone. Sadness struck him then. Again he wondered if his quest was futile, like trying to catch a cloud.

“What’s going on here?” A night watchman called out to him. “Seems people can’t stay out of trouble tonight, and it is not even a full moon.”

Achroyer merely pointed to the overflowing bar. “Looks like a fight over there.” And then shifted his hand to point to the alleyway “Though I don’t think you’ll find that half as interesting as what is in that ally.”

The watchman looked to the bar fight. “You wouldn’t have anything to do with that would you?” Achroyeir shook his head.

The guard then moved close to the alleyway and peered into the darkness. “Nothing of interest here.”

“Look closer. At the ground behind those crates to your left.”

The gasp of horrified surprise was all the indication Achroyeir needed to know the man had found the gruesome remains. He began to walk away.

“Not so fast! What do you know about this!?” The guard ran up to him, but stopped short after thinking twice. “Was this your doing?” He reached for his sword blade.

Again Achroyeir stopped, and slowly turned back to the watchman. He made no sudden movements to startle the poor fellow. Pointing like a specter for the third time, he indicated the rooftops around the ally.

“I saw a great beast jump onto the pr…man and tear him to shreds. Then it ran off.” Achroyeir pulled back his hood to reveal the face of a normal man. “Surely you don’t believe I could have done such work.” He raised his hands open and palm up, indicating he had no weapons to perform such an act.

“Very well, but I will be needing your name. Also, I don’t want you leaving town till this mess is cleared up.” The guard said.

“Paul. Paul Rosenthorp, at your service.” Achroyeir gave a sleight bow. “I’ll be sure to stick around.”

A few more questions later the guard left him. He wasted no time and headed for the nearest edge of town. It looked as though he would not be replenishing any supplies in this town after all. He had more pressing business.

If it was one thing he knew well, it was tracking.

A short circuit of the town revealed that the cat-lady had indeed left via a wilderness route. Avoiding the roads would make tracking her harder in normal circumstances, but Achroyier was no ordinary tracker. He knew secrets of the wild that few others had ever bothered to learn. That, and the fact that he was not afraid of the local wildlife made his pace fast and steady.

A bent twig, and leaves wiped clean of moister told him stories. The very air was a tattle-tale to reveal the passage of the ladies flight. The ground and wetness where her enemies in her quest to remain hidden, and informants abounded. Even then, had he been an average tracker, he progress would have been slow, and she very well may have eluded him as the night wore on.

Achroyeir rested his cheek against the cold bark of a conifer. He focused on its slow life flow, tracing the rough edges of its skin with calloused fingers. He reached out with his senses, as his love had taught him. The forest, silent and damp, revealed itself to him like a sensual woman. The needles heavy with water, the ground soft and full of things crawling just below the surface, the subtle shift of the breeze. There he remained for a few short minutes, and stretched out to find what he sought. A mile distant, he found her. She was strong and unmistakable. No doubt thinking she had outdistanced and lost him long ago.

He stepped back from the tree and raised his arms to the sky, closing his eyes once more to the world, focusing inward. As a man, he feared the beast. The creature below his skin stirred and came to life. Wet crackling and a sharp intake of breath accompanied it’s journey outward and the mans departure. Achroyeir sloughed off the weak human form and stood mighty in striped fur and glistening claws, an artistic dance of sinew and bone built for efficiency, speed, and deadly purpose. His mind roiled with new visceral thoughts and twisted around eddies of dark undercurrent fit only for the most uncompassionate predator. Something dark and thirsty writhed beneath his muscled skin, barley containable in affluent hunger. The steam of heat from the change clung like a halo to the now monstrous form, and the forest screamed in rage.

Achroyeir lifted a clawed hand to his neck, and felt the stone that hung by a necklace made of woven human hair. It was reflex to check every time he changed. He would not want to be without his equipment once he took human form again. The rune-stone would see to that. That done, he took off after her. The woods blurred around him in preternatural speed. The crowd of the forest stood a silent spectator of the hidden race.

He paced her for half the night, attempting to stay a reasonable distance behind her. Knowing her senses would be keen, and her mind alert, he did not want to chance getting too close and spooking her further. Then, as she paused for a rest, he circled her position and found a break in the forest along her current path where he could be revealed from a distance. He loathed to shift back to his pathetic human guise, but reason prevailed, and his form twisted once again to claim back his humanity. There he stood in wait for her to resume her journey.

When she moved forward again it was not hard for her to see him standing by a rock in the moonlight. He beckoned to her, once again looking from beneath a hooded cloak embroidered with scenes of hunters and the hunted.

“If you speak to me. I will bother you no more.”

Caedwynne posted March 07, 2003 02:00 PM

She had left the town quickly, making her way through the forest for several hours before stopping. The going had been easy enough. Her cat-like eyes had always been attuned to the darkness so moving quickly had not been a hazard. It was her thoughts that would cause her problems on the journey. Who was the man? What had he meant about having things in common with her? Had Jason sent him? These and other questions naturally led to the memories.

Sighing heavily, she dropped to a rock by a rain-swollen creek. She hadn’t been able to wash her victim’s blood from her as yet and, believing herself to be far enough away from the town and its predominant mystery, she slipped the cloak from her shoulders, dropped it to the ground then bent towards the chilled water. The voice whispered through the trees.

"If you speak to me. I will bother you no more.”

Startled, she nearly slipped from her perch beside the water. Spinning, she pushed herself to a standing position, ending up knee-deep in the creek. In the flickering light that found its way through the tree branches overhead, he could now see her clearly.

Her body might have been human once, though now it was completely covered in black fur, hands tipped with dangerous, bloody claws. In place of a human woman’s face was that of a panther, gold cat-like eyes glowed as they searched the darkness. The only thing that was not cat was her hair. Long and red, it glinted like fire in the moonlight as she turned her head towards him.

He was not difficult to pick out. His form seemed to be spotlighted by a shaft of moonlight filtering through the trees. She shivered, not from the cold, but from the knowledge that not only had this…. human… followed her successfully, but had actually been able to keep up with her cat-like speed. If Jason had sent him, perhaps he had finally and truly found her match.

“What… Who are you?” The first word slipped out before she could stop it, but she hoped she covered easily enough with the following question. He made no movements towards her, simply holding his hands out where she could clearly see he held no weapon.

“I hope to be a friend.”

She shook her head and snorted in disbelief. “I have no friends, only those who wish to…” A sigh took the place of the sentence’s end and once again she shook her head, this time a bit more forcefully. “You never answered my question. Who are you?”

"I am Achroyeir. A wandering druid." His reply brought a chuckle to her lips.

Seemingly unconcerned, she again bent to the icy water, splashing it over her face and body as she continued the conversation. With every movement, the chains attached to her body sang softly, drawing his attention to every glint of gold.

“A druid on a mission of soul saving? You’re too late, my friend. This soul was lost…. stolen… a long time ago. You should return to the town. From the sight of it, there are plenty to save there. Perhaps your time would not be so wasted.”

Once she was satisfied her body was free of blood, she again picked up her cloak and dunked it. The scrubbing she applied to the cloth was a bit more forceful than her stance suggested, belying the undercurrents of tension in her body. She cussed softy as a soft ripping sound was heard.

"Saving?" His laugh was cutting. "I don't save people. Is that what you thought druids do?" He leaned against the rock, seeming to relax a bit, as she seemed to do the same. "Forgive my sarcasm. I did no mean to be rude. I hardly save anyone. I doubt I could if I tried"

She seemed to eye the small rip closely, a clawed finger poking through slightly to assess its size. “Then why seek me out, priest? What is the purpose of such a wasted venture?”

"I look for others like myself, and you seem to be such a creature. It is rare I encounter any of my own kind. "

This comment brought her to a full standing position, the rip clearly forgotten as she laughed coldly. Uncaring if sarcasm cut her words, she flung her reply back at him. “Surely you’re blind, priest. We are nothing alike. Perhaps once…. but it can never be… No, priest. I am not one of your kind nor could I ever be.”

"As for your soul being lost, I do not know what to say. Sometimes I feel as though my soul was lost as well, and other times it is as though I have so much more than before" He had seemed not to hear her last comment at first, and then. "Oh you mean this?" Pulling his hood back, he revealed a perfectly human face.

"Don't be deceived by outward appearances. I am no more human than you are. I would show you now, though I fear what my other form would do. I am much more...er, uninhibited when I change." At his words, his body shifted slightly. For the first time since encountering him, she felt he was uncomfortable.

Unsure of both the man before her and, of herself, she busied herself laying the cloak out on the ground as if to dry. How the cloth would accomplish such a feat on the rain sodden grass, she obviously didn’t consider.

“Given the circumstances of your introduction to my presence, I don’t see where the concerns for inhibitions should present themselves. You obviously know what I’ve done… what I am… “ She left the rest unsaid as she again bent at the waist, this time to dunk her head into the creek. She scrubbed vigorously at her hair before reemerging. He couldn’t help noticing that she immediately checked his whereabouts before nonchalantly wringing the water from her hair. Silently, she combed her claws through the redness as she waited.

Matt posted March 10, 2003 11:19 PM

“Please stop calling me priest. The stories you must have heard about druids I doubt describe me. I do not worship anything, nor shepherd the weak and unenlightened masses. Rather I simply respect the wilderness and call it family. I know secrets it has told me. Nothing more.”

Achroyeir watched her bend over with interest. Her supple curves accentuated by the flowing water. “Are you trying to seduce me? It is working. Your every move speaks of hunger, grace, strength and sex. Had I forgotten what you did to the other poor fellow who took up on your advances I might have pursued you just as blindly.” She could smell his desire from where she stood, but he held it in check well.

"I have already fed this night. Your desires, while interesting, are not what I seek. I would have preferred to have rid myself of that....."man's"...stench in the city, but your intrusion prevented that." Done with her "bath”, she stepped from the creek and found a seat on a boulder nearby, her head tilted slightly as she studied him more closely.

“By uninhibited I mean without conscious or moral. Such things mean little to me when I…Shift. It is not a form to be used for conversation.”

He smiled briefly then. “Would it surprise you to know that this druid kills both animals and plants? Such is the law of the wild. Blood, life, death… these are all natural things. Not to be avoided, but rather embraced.” His eyes remained pools of darkness as the moonlight cast him in long shadows. A specter telling secrets at night.

"One must feed, sir. Even the priests of the forests, though their rituals that follow a kill are a bit.....much." She lifted a foot and rested it on the bolder, her knee raised for her to drape an arm over.

“Do you still seek for me to show you my other form? I will, if that is your request. Though I would prefer to hear more about you first, if you are willing to tell the story."

"There is no story to tell, certainly not one worth your boredom. I am as I am, sir....nothing more, nothing...." she seemed about to finish the words, but instead, she let the final word hang, shaking her head slightly as she did so. Flicking her wrist, her fingers spread slightly, she kept her eyes on him. "Show me if you will, though you seem hesitant to do so."

“Very well. Consider it a show of good will and trust, though I would have hoped to garner more of a rapport before this. May your instincts serve you well…” The last seemed almost like an ominous warning that hung in the air long after the words were spoken.

His arms went to his sides, and his eyes closed. Nothing seemed to happen to him so much as the forest around them. It became soundless, and the moonlight heavy. As she watched Cead’s enhanced senses picked up something beyond the five, and into the supernatural. An edge like that of a jagged blade threatened the borders of her mind, and the soundless breeze picked up grass to swirl lightly around the lone figure in the clearing.

The man form began to stretch and grow. A flowing dance of flesh and shadow, that subverted the human form into a creature of chaos. Then the sound came, a dry writhing, just beneath the skin. His arms widened there caress to the air, and the silvery light reflected his new glistening fur. It shown crimson in the pale reflections with stripes lashing in beautiful design. His adornments swallowed themselves up into a runestone held about his neck with a thin strand. It took no more than a few seconds, but the memory would take far longer to fade.

What stood before her was twice as tall as the man whose form was discarded. It’s breath formed small clouds of overheated air as it rasped through a throat with the hollow sound of autumn. The eyes were empty sans a.. movement that spoke of the world beyond. What stood in the clearing was clearly no kin to any natural predator save for it’s purpose. To deal death.

Claws flashed as it stared about the clearing to rest it’s sight on Caed.

“Satisfied.” The word rushed out of the creature as hollow and menacing as the flashing daggers and gaping maw of its mouth... And the forest shrank like prey.

This was no animal. It was a monster.

Caedwynne posted March 11, 2003 12:38 AM

She forced herself not to move, not to flinch, not to show her emotions. She stayed on the rock trying to remain relaxed and simply watched him. Slowly, she let her lips form into a smile that she hoped would hide the turmoil she was feeling. “Nicely done. But that still does not make you as I am, sir ... simply larger and perhaps beast-like. I do not shift as you do. What you see … what was …made … is what I have become for all eternity.”

Almost as if by its own accord, her hand flicked slightly, a finger rising then moving towards him, seemingly putting punctuation to her words. “Admittedly, the size is impressive. It might even be considered ‘daunting’. Could be handy in a fight, to be sure. But personally, surprise has always been my ally.”

"I think I made a mistake. It seems you are not as I." His words braced the air like physical blows, and then faded leaving one to wonder if they ever actually heard them, or if they were only in the mind. "But that can be remedied"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously at the last of his words, though her body remained relaxed. The incessant flicking of her finger seemed to take no pattern or shape and could be misconstrued as a nervous tic of some sort. Silently, she watched him.

His form was hard to discern as solid. One moment it was clear-cut and defined, and then next it contrived to hide itself from definition. He flashed his teeth. "I am a lycanthrope of sorts" His head waved about for no purpose. "My gift is a gift for all who are of the right blood. All that is required is my will and your desire."

It was as though he was reading emotionlessly from a book. His sentences not up for debate or censure. Still, she debated him.

“I care not for gifts sir. Twas a gift that took my life... one I shall perhaps repay some day.”

"This gift only frees one, it does not take."

Slowly, she slid from the rock and stood before him. "And if I refuse?

A blur like tracers catching up to a movement, and a row of scythes appears near her mid section. Only afterwards can it be seen as an indication, like somebody pointing, rather than an attack. "Choice is yours." His muzzle grimaced as he sniffed her closely. His massive head rubbed her neck and cheek.

Her body was stone still, her voice a whisper. "Somehow...I find that difficult to believe...."

She could almost hear the tension in the muscles underneath the skin. Somehow, she could tell that those muscles contained held back hardened rage. This beast was only calm on the outside.

The sound was piercing. With a breath, she drew a whistle that was sharp and loud and, in its sound, one could almost imagine a needle piercing the brain. The waves of noise seemed to form itself at his back, taking the shape of a rather large, snarling German Sheppard.

His head turned to look at the newcomer, curious as to the purpose. She could not move away from him, his presence forcing her against the bolder she had only moments ago been seated on.

He stood there, letting the dog investigate if it felt so inclined. Although the dog appeared to dislike being close to the creature, it still bared its teeth in threat. She knew the dog felt an overwhelming sense of threat from the were-tiger, much like the one she felt.

He moved forward to press her against the bolder, investigating her lithe form with his senses. She could clearly tell he is becoming aroused by her close presence … and something inside her seemed to respond. She became quite aware that the beast before her, unlike the man, made no effort to hold back it's immediate desires.

“So you will have me as the man in the town would, then?” Her voice betrayed her inner conflict, her head lifting slightly to expose her throat even as her eyes found themselves closing.

His head wandered her body, boldly sniffing and caressing her curves. His tongue flashed for a moment over one of her beasts. "You seem made for sex. It is you that calls to me."

“Made … how appropriate your choice of words.” Her fists clenched at her side as if to keep them from sliding through the soft fur that covered his body.

His arms pinned her to the rock in a rather compromising position… wide open for the taking. "Would you try to eat me afterwards? I find the thought...exciting." His use of the word seemed frightening in it intensity. Here was a beast that reveled in blood as well. His mouth nuzzled her ear, as he whispered threats of fulfillment.

"NO!" It was unclear if the harshly spoken word was in response to his question or his actions, but suddenly, she was desperately trying to push him away. Her strength was great, but certainly no match for the beast hovering over her.

The dog growled and barked at the response from its mistress, and for a moment, it's loyalty overrode its fear. It leapt at the monster’s back and bit deep into its neck. The tiger-creature roared in pain and, reaching over his head, he easily tore the dog from his back. She screamed as she watched her beloved friend held cruelly in the beast's claws, its barks and growls soon turning to pitiful cries. The look in Achroyers face was as vacant as death for a moment, and jaws opened wide... But stopped short.

At his distraction, she took the opportunity to flip herself backwards over the boulder, coming up once again in the creek.

He lowered the dog to the ground and let go, only a slight tickle of blood marring the dog’s neck to mark his grasp. "You have seen enough" his form melted. Soon, as if the were-beast never existed, all that was standing there was the human druid.

"I hope that I have satisfied your curiosity. I warned you that my other form had no inhibitions."

“You BASTARD...you *are* no better than those I feed on!” Although she saw the dog was fine, her fury was nevertheless at full tilt. “You take what you want without regards to others.... with out care as to whether it is to be given freely!!!!” The years of torment she suffered at Jason's hand vented itself on the man before her.

He flinched at her anger now, his responses quite human in nature. ”You need to check yourself lady. I only responded to your signals. I have no desire to harm you"

She didn’t hear the truth of his words; she didn’t care for what he had to say. Pent up rage and pain caused her to fly at him, damn the consequences. In a flurry of fur, claws and teeth, she attacked him, attempting to vent her varied emotions on him. There would be no sex this time, only his blood if she had anything to say about it.

His hands raised, an incantation uttered, and the grass came alive. It whirled in the air only to be cut down by her fury … only then to be replaced by more writhing grass. It threatened to entangle her and hold her fast as he backed away cursing. "You attack me! I only did as you requested. Perhaps you need to know yourself better before you make requests." His own anger began to flair.

The magics only made her rage worse. Magics and sciences were one in the same. Both destroyed lives in her eyes. Yet, his magic was strong, the grass succeeding in at least slowing her down.

He watched, and waited ready, a fair distance away, hoping the grass would be enough.

Jason had given her stamina. It took an hour for her rage to sufficiently waste itself out and logic to return. Although her anger was still heated beneath the surface, her body trembling with it, she managed to draw several deep breaths before turning suddenly from him to stand a distance from the bolder. The whistle again made itself heard and, slowly, the dog again appeared from the shadows, whimpering softly. Her voice was soft, nothing like the possessed beast who attempted to rip his heart from his chest only moments before. “I know, Max. We’re done here. There will be another town…. somewhere… We’ll leave, my friend…soon. Rest.” With gentle hands, she stroked the dog’s coat; fingering his wounds lightly until she was satisfied he would live. A tiny sigh of relief slipped from her lips before she slipped her fingers through his mottled fur, taking comfort in his warmth.

Achroyeir stayed a safe distance even after the cat lady’s anger seemed to dim. He was no fool; he knew what cunning his animal mind was capable of. He assumed hers would be no less so.

Matt posted March 13, 2003 01:44 PM

He studied Caed again. This time working hard not to show his interest in her body. She was volatile it seemed. A fact that would have driven most men away by now. Given Achroyeir’s unique upbringing however he looked beyond the rage and saw the pain this lady must have endured to reach this point. Perhaps she was more like him than she admitted, being in beastly form all the time would certainly make him anti-social, or as most would put it “A horrible monster”.

“Forgive my earlier behavior. I respond to my instincts in that form without question or doubt. Like I said, it is not a form for conversation, or diplomacy.” He looked at the shaken dog. “Even then, I do not loose all reason. It was clear your dog means a lot to you, and I would not get a second chance had I harmed him. Can we start again where we left off?” He moved back over to the stone near the center of the clearing. The lighting once again lending an air of being only half real.

She kept her back to him and it was unclear if she heard his words or not. Her hands constantly roamed through Max's fur, a faint, indistinguishable whisper reaching his ears. The trembling in her body was still evident, though less so with each caress of the dog's coat.

“Monsters we are, lest monsters we become.” His head turned to face her again. “I used to be human as well. Though it was so long ago it is hard to remember. One night I was a slave to an aristocratic family, and the next, there she was, outside that fateful window. She taught me everything I know.” He spread his arms wide, an almost helpless gesture “So here I am, a monster to the common folk. I was hoping you would be more understanding.”

Absently, he crouched and waved his hand over the grass near him. It followed his hand like a cluster of chicks begging for a meal from a parental beak.

Her voice still a whisper, her response nevertheless reached him. "I have no understanding. Its long since dead as is the person I......" She buried her face in Max's neck, the shaking of her body changing as she tried to swallow a sob.

“None? Surely you are merely refusing to see yourself.” He shrugged.

“I am guessing you have been through much pain.” This he said with the understanding of one who has seen his share of pain.

“You mentioned that my words of you being made where not far from the truth. Can I ask how?"

Her hands fisted in the fur as she finally regained control. "Made.... I...was made this way." She shook her head, knowing that the explanation of science and tech would be beyond understanding in this world. "I am no lycanthrope. I was human, I am beast now...made so by the hands of another.... magics, if you will."

She stood suddenly and walked to the creek, always keeping her back to him, her face unseen even as she crouched to splash it with water. Once done, she picked up the still soaked cloak and wrapped herself deep within its folds as if to hide from the world. The hood secured over her head, her face lost in the depths of its darkness, she finally turned to face him.

"You had no choice in the matter it seems."

"That could be said. No will, no choice... no say."

“Then consider this a choice offered. The power that runs in my blood is one that is meant to be shared with all those who have the heart to feel it. I know first hand the power of this “curse” and it is a good bet that it has the power to break this unwanted enchantment that has been placed upon you by the will of another. For once you can make your own choice on what destiny has in store for you.” He pulled a small pouch open, and pulled out a strip of dried salty meat.

“You may have changed a bit since your enchantment, but deep down I am willing to bet the real you is still there, and not quite a dead as you profess.” He used a half strip of meat to point at her, making sure she knew his attention was on her, and not musing in his own thoughts.

"There is no enchantment. The magics were not of that kind. What I am now is what I will be for the remainder of this life. That will never change.... "he" made sure of that." She found her bolder and leaned against it, wrapping herself even tighter in the cloak as if to protect herself from the outside world. At her feet, the dog lowered itself and appeared to sleep.

“Nothing ever truly dies. For there are always those who where touched and remember. Is that not why you turn from me even now? Your pain is clear in your voice. Memories never die, though sometimes we may wish they did.”

"I am already a beast, sir... you wish to make me more of one? What kind of gift is that?" The hood shifted as she shook her head.

“I do not like to see suffering, but self delusion is even worse. I offer this choice out of a sense of us having much in common. Take it or leave it, the choice is yours to make. It is perhaps the first choice that has truly been yours in some time now.” He chewed the last of his rations with little enjoyment. They were old, stale, and had been one of the reasons he had stopped in the town for supplies.

She remained silent, listening to his words... perhaps.... considering them.

“Regardless of your answer, how would you like to put your obvious talents to some purpose? I have need of help in a personal quest, and you would certainly be that. I doubt you look for much in the way of payment, but consider the possibility of my offered transformation as a hook. It will give you time to think on it. There are few things worse than a creature without enjoyment in their purpose.”

The hood tilted slightly to the side, her voice softened slightly. "What is your proposition, sir?"

"See those mountains?" Achroyeir pointed to the east. "Those are the Iron Peaks. Just south of the tallest one, about a three day journey for us, if I judge correctly, there is a structure that may bear me some answers. It is a cluster of towers known as Thule-Minor. My sources tell me it is inhabited by a very old scholar who does not like visitors.

She may have the answers I seek, however. For this I am willing to risk everything. She is said to be an incredible scry and seer. She is also said to be very reclusive, and destroys any who enter there with traps and enslaved creatures. If you seek purpose, then perhaps you may find some in freeing those enslaved beasts, or in destroying the Seer… After I have what I want from her, of course."

"I do not kill for the pleasure of it, sir."

"Even if it is for a cause? I thought you may have felt a need for vengeance against one who forced creatures to her whim. Perhaps I misread. Tell me then, what motivates you to do anything? Do you simply eat and nothing more?"

"If that were the case, most in this world would be at my mercy. No... what you saw.... back in that town.... it was part of becoming what I am. "He" made it such that I must do what I do to live... much like breathing. If I resist... if for some reason I decided not to.... feed.... I would be dead by the morning." With each word, her voice had grown colder with hatred.

"I see. Must you do this every night?" He kept the concern from his eyes, knowing she may mistake it for pity. He guessed correctly that this was not a creature that liked being pitied.

She shook her head. "It is unpredictable."

"I am willing to deal with it, if it means you will help." Achroyeir offered.

"What then, motivates you as a person? What is it you seek in this world?"

She sighed heavily. "I am no person, sir. Only a beast... and I seek merely to live... to remain free from "his" grasp.

"Very well. If your only motivation is to run, then run with me. I will help you elude your would-be captor while we are together, and you may even find some answers yourself from the old Seer."

"Answers? I seek no answers."

"Of course you do. Do you not seek how to elude your former master for all time?"

"This answer may be waiting for you. You will never find out if you don't try."

Her head tilted, an obvious sign she was suddenly interested. Still, she hesitated. "And what of you? How am I to be assured I can trust you?"

"That is only something I can earn over time. There is nothing I can do or give you that will convince you at this moment. To garner trust was why I showed you my other shape, though that seemed to hurt my position more than help it."

"Let us start this over... My name is Achroyeir." He walked closer and offered his hand. "May I have your name m'lady?"

Again, the heavy sigh seeped from the darkness of the hood. She knew what he said was truth... that he had taken his own risks in showing her the creature he could be. Still, trust was not an easy thing for her.

"Caedwynne." She hesitated, then slowly lifted her hand to his.

They touched then for the first time in a most human show of social trust. She laughed suddenly. "Gods...I haven't heard that... name... in a long time."

He smiled then, at her laughter. "Well met Caedwynne. Perhaps you would like to take a walk this night. " He indicated the far off mountains with a gentlemanly gesture (it was obvious he was not used to such shows. It almost made him comical).

Slowly, she nodded and lifted herself away from the boulder. Though she had little need of it, Achroyeir made a polite show of keeping her hand steady as she rose. "Yes. I..will come with you."

Without pause, he let her hand free and began to head back into the woods. Waiting at the edge of the clearing to make sure he was being followed.

With silent signals, Caed called for Max who immediately came to her right side. Slowly at first, she followed Achroyier, her steps becoming more deliberate as her mind became more sure.

He really didn't look the part of the druid one was told about in stories. More like a ranger or wilderness hardened warrior. Under his travel cloak, he wore leather armor pieces. The type that a foot soldier would have had in the rank and file of the civilized lands. They remained imprinted with embroidery from the culture that made them. Other than that his equipment and garb were sparse and necessary for a traveler in the wilderness. Short sword, belt, satchel, water skin, good walking boots, a small array of tools and necessities.

As they traveled, he seemed to rely less on magic than on good nature lore. He had all the demeanor of a professional. He paused often to test his surroundings. Checking broken twigs, and animal droppings. Seeming to find water just when they were running low, and eggs or small game as required. It was not a bountiful harvest as they traveled, but both He and Cead seemed used to hardship. He secretly hoped they would chance across a small town or village where thy could easily trade for more bountiful fair.

Caedwynne posted March 19, 2003 06:26 PM

She spent the night’s travel mostly in silent contemplation. It had been so long since her… “becoming”… to think on it now made her realize that she had forgotten most of those she had one called friends.

She hadn’t lied to Achroyeir when she had told him she had once been human. Her world then was far different that what she had banished herself to the past few years. She had only been sixteen when she married Jason, a rash decision she would soon come to regret with great relish. Within days of their marriage, he’d proven to be a rather sadistic man… one who controlled everything and everyone around him… or destroyed it. She spent years under his control, always afraid to run because, truthfully, she couldn’t see where to run.

Caed had been born blind and, in her perpetual darkness, she would never know which direction the next attack would come. Eventually, however, she did escape him, though barely with her life.

In time she would come to a refuge… one that gave her the greatest joy in her life. There had been a man, though his name now escaped her. He had been a pilot and, when she expressed her desire to fly, he quickly created a special neuro helmet for her that allowed her to “see” the instruments in the cockpit of the fighter. Once she became familiar with it, the sky was quite literally the limit.

The helmet wasn’t the only thing he would provide her. One evening… a night no one would wipe from her memory… he presented her with Max. The German Sheppard had been trained from puppy-hood as a seeing eye dog and, with just a little bit of training on her part, the two became inseparable.

As all things in her life, there came a time for the man to leave. His squad was to be reassigned to another planet and she was to be left behind. She had made several friends among the pilots and, had actually gained a commission, though not with the man’s squad. Hers was to remain planet side indefinitely.

Several years later, once her commission was up, she would again meet up with the man simply by chance. The fighter was hers then and, on a whim, she packed her meager possessions and Max aboard a jumpship and made tracks for a sometimes hospitable planet she had often heard about by the name of RhyDin.

Upon landing, Max did something that he had never done before. As they exited the jumpship, the dog suddenly broke free of her grasp, running and barking towards someone across the tarmac. Caed had become instantly panicked. She didn’t have her bearings yet and she didn’t know the step count to the hanger. Desperately, she tried to convince Max to return, but something odd had gotten into the dog.

Shaking, she had been able to produce her cane and, with the soft ticking sound of its tip that she hated with a passion, she made her way in the direction of the barking dog. The voice that greeted her over the yapping puppy-like sounds took her quite by surprise and she threw her arms around the neck of the man she thought she’d never “see” again.

In time, she became part of the DoomBringers…. another memory Jason’s experiment could not remove from her. During her stay with them, the man asked her to marry him. She didn’t hesitate, thinking that after so much time, surely Jason would have obtained a divorce. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

The day Jason arrived was one of the worst in her life. She had been called to the commander’s office…. Stinel… Ben Stinel… the suddenness of the name startled her. She clearly remembered the concern in his voice when he told her she would not have to leave with Jason if that was her choice. It had been the first time she had ever heard such a voice and it touched her deeply.

She had left with Jason, however. The man…. her “fiancé” was furious, but there had been nothing either of them could do and, as Jason often did, she was forced to show the man the life that her husband had chosen for her… one of servitude.

At first, she thought Jason’s arrival had been a fluke. It wasn’t until they were truly alone that she understood how furious her husband had been with her for leaving. No one escaped from him and, to make sure she would never again go running to another man, he made her into the beast she was now.

In the process of her “becoming”, Jason gave her one gift… that of sight. Somehow in the process, her eyes were healed and, in that healing, she gained a new strength. Within weeks, she had once again escaped Jason’s grasp, and, after having retrieved Max from the man, she quickly left the planet. She had been running ever since.

So caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t realize that Achroyeir had stopped. Nor had she noticed that the sun was well over the tree line. It took Max stepping in front of her, a move he often had to perform when she was blind, to stop her. Dazed, she glanced around, blinking once as she caught sight of a bemused Achroyeir.

“You were deep in thought. If I had not stopped, you would have traveled all day. This is a good spot to rest for a while, I think.”

Matt posted March 21, 2003 10:54 AM

The mountains rose higher as they traversed ever closer to the base. Clouds gathered close, hugging the range and spreading out as a canopy blocking light from the lower slopes. The air grew often heavy with moister down in the valley plain in which the duo traveled, and it just as often unloaded its watery cargo upon the thick trees there, keeping the feeling of freshness alive and well. Streams bubbled and babbled along, threatening to wash out banks and reforge shorelines, in their mad rush to flow outward toward the distant sea.

Amid the grass below the trees only 60 miles distant from the base of the Iron Backs, soft footprints left their mark in the wet soil. The worn boots of Achroyeir and the padded feet of Caedwynne left marks enough for a tracker to see should they be hardy enough to match the pairs enduring pace. They were not worried about trackers at the moment, and so did little to disguise their trail.

They spoke little as Caed reminisced in her head of her past life and the people in it. Both of them seemed to show respect for the wilderness around them by not deigning to spoil the natural silence, except for the rhythm of their traveling feet, and even this did not seem unwelcome in the forest.

During the days, the sun shone warm and bright in the morning, only to be obscured by the cloud cover in the evening, preluding a light rain. Some nights, the rain grew thunderous and weighty. They would take cover under a canted rock or in a tree hollow for a short time, huddling close together for warmth. Caed seemed to take little note of the nearness of Achroyeir, so deep was she lost in past thought. Achroyeir, out of respect, did the same. It was fine weather for travel with a companion, so long as one did not mind the occasional warm downpour.

This particular evening was a brief respite from the almost clockwork sprinkling as they set down to rest eat and sleep for a short while. Caedwynne had little use for a bedroll, and it seemed neither did Achroyeir. She usually rested curled up like the cat she resembled and, he mostly slept sitting next to her with his back to a rock or tree. For both of them, their oiled travel cloaks were the sole protection from the rain, and they did their job well enough.

“It will be colder near the mountain.” Achroyeir stated, as he looked to the range.

The statement jolted Caed from her reverie. “Hmmm?”

“I said; it will be colder near the mountain. We may need fire, if I don’t transform. If I do, we will need food. I use up a lot more energy in that form.” He repeated with a few added bits of information.

“I see.” Caed felt a little disturbed, and then angry at herself. She had been off her guard for almost the entire trip. Her memories were liable to get her in trouble. She wondered what other things this man may have said or did during the trip that she missed while chasing daydreams. What was it about this man that made him so intrinsically trustworthy? He had a feeling of openness she was unused to, and it threw her off balance. She was not sure she liked it.

As she watched him eat a handful of berries they had forged earlier in the day, she saw in his face a rugged determination to accomplish this goal set before them. It was obvious it was important to him, and he made no attempt to hide his feelings about it. A fact she found admirable and honest.

She found herself tracing his jaw line with her eyes and loosing herself in his strong posture. She feared her attraction to this man, yet could not help but think of his sturdy hands holding her and his body next to hers. She licked her jaws absently in hunger…

It was then she realized she was hungry. Not the normal hunger of a regular meal being missed, but the hunger built into her by the sadistic Jason. Unbidden, passion and food forced their way to the forefront of her mind. She usually had a small idea when it would strike, maybe a day, enough for her to find the needed source of “food” to satisfy her hunger, but she had been too lost in thought these past days. She failed to notice the warning signs. Now it was here and it could not be denied. She needed to find a victim, and she needed it tonight. With dread, she came to realize that her travel companion was the only viable food source for her unique appetite. She leapt to her feet, and began to rub against a fallen pine tree as the need flooded her mind.

Startled Achroyeir looked about them in search of whatever hidden danger spooked her. “What is it?”

“I must feed.” Her voice was unintentionally seductive, and needful. Her predator eyes flashed to look hauntingly into his, reflecting stars and moon alike, danger and desire burned inside them.

Even though she mentioned this would happen, he had the idea that she knew how to take care of it. Now that he was confronted with it, he had no idea how to proceed.

Caedwynne posted March 27, 2003 08:58 PM

“Leave. Go now… before it’s too late.” She pushed herself away from the tree and began to pace. “You have a little time…. to…get far from here. I… I can try… and find a town nearby.” An involuntary growl escaped her lips as she ran her claws through her hair. For a brief moment, her cat-like eyes looked desperately at Achroyeir, her voice a mere whisper. “Please… go.”

Achroyeir’s indecision was apparent in his hesitation. He knew in human form, he would be no match for her and beast form would be no help. Despite his greatest desire to do so, there was nothing he could contribute to her need.

The matter was taken out of his hands when, with one final frustrated growl, she turned from him and sprinted into the forest. Beside him, Max watched her go, whining slightly. In the time they had traveled together, Achroyeir discovered the dog to be fiercely loyal to his mistress. Still, Max seemed to know that he would do Caed no good in accompanying her. Absently, lost in his thoughts, Achroyeir reached down and scratched the dog’s massive head, attempting to provide some comfort to the animal… to them both.

The hunger was burning now. The need… to feel… to feed. Desperately, she made her way east, following an instinct she hoped would lead her to some form of prey. But prey would not be easy in the forest. Those who dwelled in such a place knew better than city folk the dangers creatures of the woods could present. Those protected by city walls usually felt safe from the outside and, in such, were slightly less concerned with shadows and slight sounds.

She had oft times been told that death would be the final result should she failed to secure a victim. Perhaps Jason had lied as he had done so many times before… but she hadn’t been willing to take that chance before. This time, however, the decision might not be hers. He found her several hours later, her body cold and nearly lifeless. Only the faint jumping of a sporadic pulse at her neck assured him there was still some sort of spark in her. When she had left him, Achroyeir had tried in vain to find “food” for her. Apparently her luck had been no better.

Gently, almost reverently, he reached down and slid a finger across her face, moving the tendrils of hair that had been covering her eyes. His heart quickened as those eyes fluttered open and attempted to focus on his face. “Caedwynne. What can I do?”

Her voice was thick, and, at first, her words were indistinguishable. She hesitated, licked her lips and began again. “Please…. Help me.”

He nodded slightly his eyes locked to hers with meaning. “There is only one way I can do that now….”

For an instant, fear glittered in her eyes as she understood his meaning. Then, just as quickly it cleared, her will to live stronger than her fear of the unknown. Slowly, she returned his nod, adding a slight smile to ease them both. Softly, he placed a hand to her cheek for a brief moment then, as her eyes closed, his body took on the shape of the beast.

His touch was one of a lover as Achroyeir cradled her limp form. Her head lolled back and, for a second, he wondered if he might have taken too long. The convulsing of her throat as she swallowed nervously convinced him otherwise. As he lowered his head to her neck, he felt her fingers slip through the fur at the back of his head, then tighten there as if to keep him prisoner against her. Gently, he nuzzled the side of her neck before gripping the nape in his teeth. He held her there for a moment, his tongue drifting over her…. tasting her before sinking his teeth in deep.

She gasped, first in pain, then terror…then…. passion. Her fingers never left his fur, clutching and releasing as she gave herself up to him… to his gift.

She felt her blood slow and she began to panic, mistrust of the stranger she had only known for a few days flaring. As seconds turned into minutes, her panic congealed, allowing her will to live to strengthen. Her mind began to drift, her senses seeming to heighten even as her blood began to heat. From inside she could feel something invading her body. Creeping from the bite like insects through her veins. She could hear it, crawling inside her... A dry sound... a background noise. It spoke to her of life, death and change, a cliff that was so far away until it crumbled to leave her feet on the edge of the void.

Fear was a monolith in the darkness. It drew closer and her mind grappled with the thought of escape, an escape she knew she could only now have in sweet surrender of precious life. Was her life so precious to her? Her memory seemed filled with pain. Perhaps it would be better to let go, to slide into oblivion and the comforting, terrifying feel of nothingness….

Spears of light lanced into her brain. A distant laughter called to her, and she remembered friends of long ago. They came unbidden, as soldiers for a cause. They fought for her.

Memories of when she was blind. Fond memories of good people with kindness to spare, the touch of metal and molded plastic in her hands as she piloted her fighter beyond the speed of the wind. They wracked her, yelled at her, and sliced her mind in twain. She did want to live. Spurred on by a tiny whisper of hope from the people who cared.

Her soul was slipping away, but now she fought. Her body threatened to quit, but her mind refused. Wanting to recoil from the invading beast, but finding her only escape as death, she turned on it like a cornered animal, and lashed out with her claws. Damned if she would die this night!

Achroyeir the beast laid her down on a patch of soft grass. He watched as she slipped from him to the cradle of death, and felt his human side attempt to break the wall of compassion to let tears roll from his autumn eyes. It was not to be. Such feelings were not for this monster. All it could muster was an empty feeling of unnamed loss.

A silence…

Her body lurched to motion, back arching in contraction, as she sucked in a lungful of air. She did not wake. The change killed some, and others it took like a wildfire, transforming the recipient instantly. This seemed like the third type… a fever to be decided after a long fight. At least now, he knew she was fighting to live….

Caedwynne posted April 30, 2003 02:23 PM

Her body convulsed as she jerked free of the nightmare trying to keep her within the depths of its obscurity. Heart pounding, breath ragged, she opened her eyes and, for a brief moment, confusion added itself to the myriad of physical effects that assaulted her body.

Nothing. Complete blackness. Not the typical darkness one associates with closed eyes or lightless rooms. Even within them, there are “white noises”, shadows and even colors upon occasion. This darkness was the pure black attributed to the blindness she had always known.

She sighed softly with relief as she slowly began to realize that the nightmare had not only brought terror, but some form of sight as well. Her hand shaky, she lifted it to her face and felt the softness not of fur, but rather skin…. Human skin. A nervous chuckle escaped her lips as she credited the nightmare with its reality. She was not fur-covered. She had not been a part of some sadistic science experiment…. She had not “fed” so many countless times. She was simply herself.

She yawned and stretched. Rolling over, she pressed herself against Achroyeir’s back in an attempt to warm herself. She smiled softly, wrapping an arm across his bare waist, laying her cheek against his skin and breathing in his scent. They hadn’t been married long and the depth of her love for him continued to amaze her. She felt him stir against her and chuckled softly.

Suddenly, she bolted upright and reached for her chrono. Its specialized faceplate informed her that she was indeed late. Whipping the covers from her body (and Achroyeir’s), she counted the steps to the bathroom, considering whether she could possibly squeeze a shower in before she had to report to the Doom Bringer’s flight bay in 20 minutes.

Silently, she berated herself for letting Commander Stinel down. He had always been so gracious and now she was showing her gratitude by being late for missions. She could only imagine how disappointed he would be in her.

Forgoing the shower, she quickly slipped into her flight suit and grabbed her neuro-helm.

“You need breakfast.” Achroyeir’s deep voice caused her heart to skip a beat as she reached for the door controls.

“I can’t, love. I’m late as it is. I’ll pick up something a little later. I’ve got to go. Go back to sleep, honey.”

She called to Max and, with his guidance, rushed from the quarters she now shared with Achroyeir. As she reached the elevator, however, she heard her husband calling her name. Turning, she saw (a fact that did not quite make it past her notice) him moving quickly down the hall, Commander Stinel’s struggling form held firmly in a choke-hold.

“Caedwynne. You must eat.” As the words passed his lips, Achroyeir’s body transformed. The creature he became easily lifted Commander Stinel’s still struggling form from the ground by the throat and held him out to her as if in offering.

Screaming, she turned and ran from them……..

Caedwynne posted April 30, 2003 02:41 PM

….dead branches whipped across her body as she ran through the darkened woods. The pain was minor… the fur on her body protected her from the majority of it.

Freedom. Her heart raced with it, her blood burning as instincts guided her through unknown territory. She knew she was running from something…. Or perhaps it was to something… she couldn’t remember which. The urgency within her was overwhelming, however…pushing her forward through the decimated forest.

Her senses were on overload, sounds and sensations closing in on her like a blanket intent on smothering. Still, her excitement surged. She had never felt so alive… so powerful! She felt every muscle in her body respond to her body’s movement…. every follicle of fur shifting with the breeze created by her momentum. Her heart was alive, her senses screaming in pleasure.

Suddenly she smelled him… his own excitement… his own life. She could hear his heart in time with hers and she knew instantly where he was. Shifting direction, she ran to Achroyeir. She needed to taste him…to feel him in her core. In an instant, she was in his arms, burying her snout against his neck, her claws raking over his fur with desire.

“You’ll never escape me, Caedwynne” She knew the voice…but it was not Achroyeir. Lifting her head, she looked into the deep blue eyes that once belonged to her husband….her true husband…. Jason. Seeing her terror, the man lifted his head and laughed.

Caedwynne in turn, lifted her head….. and all the terror....all the disappointment...every dark emotion she had ever felt fed the scream that ripped itself from her throat.

Matt posted June 25, 2005 05:50 PM

Once the process started, there was nothing that could stop it save death or permanent change. To some people, those were one and the same. A lost paradise of predictability can be Hell to far too many.

Achroyier placed several sprigs that looked like tiny fern branches in a mixture of blood, meat and brain. The butchered carcass of a badger lay with only the mystically useless parts intact. He had been gathering the ingredients for the poultice ever since it became clear that Cead was going to make a fight of it. She had been thrashing and babbling in her delirium from about a half an hour after the initial bite onward.

Once or twice, she had even stood up to run a short ways, then collapsed again in a heap. Each time she was dutifully returned to her resting place in the arms of the monstrous creature. The second time he carried her back she had called his name, and even attempted to seduce him in her delirium, only to scream and slash and then fall limp again to be set down in the arranged Birchwood leaves and loam. The change was taking her like a high fever, but that was only the very surface of it.

The blood, Achroyier’s in her own, was seeping and tunneling its way down into her. Working its way into every cell and sinew, everything it touched was either altered, twisted, or eradicated altogether. Cells divided, warred and succumbed leaving a union in it’s wake of the once mortal to the now inhuman.

There was frustratingly little he could do for her now. The poultice would help her body adjust, but nothing but her own strength of will and self could help her mind and soul. As he knelt down to place a hand on her forehead (a reflexive act that meant nothing), he recalled back to his own becoming, his own journey down this path.

For his part, he had welcomed it, desired it, and embraced it. He was tired, a weak human plaything for the predators in the world. A soldier and a slave, one night the lady of fang and fury found him, seduced him, and turned the wheel of fortune for him, giving him the gift of Natures wild soul. Alas, his meek essence was not ready for it. Born anew in predator flesh and having been prey for so long he did no know what to do with the altered thoughts slithering through the folds of his brain. He was taken by surprise at his own brutality, and his new enjoyment of it. The blood not only freed him, it also turned him into a monster peeled strait out of the darkest pages of story and myth. He could not grasp the extent of his becoming, for Mother Nature was vast beyond comprehension, and his flesh now belonged to its deepest abyss. Sorrow came for the stag turned tiger.

In his confusion, and euphoria, he fed on children, in an insane bid to save them from the horrors of the world before they had a chance to grow up and die on the inside. He was broken like a sheet of ice pressured by too much weight. Death and heartbreak followed his wake and families huddled close behind barred door hoping to the Gods that the thing in the night would pass them by.

Again it was his lady that pulled him back from the fate of gluttony for the hunger inside, and taught him to ride the sensual tide of the stalker instead of letting it ride him. Out of love and bond, she reworked him as a master smith would a flawed blade. Over a period of months she taught him from example to become the beast both beautiful and terrifying, yet also with purpose, her beast, her lover.

Achroyeir looked at Cead now, with her sweat mingling with the dirt of the forest floor, and he knew it would hard for her. She may have been changed bodily by science, but now her very spirit was being rewritten by magic. How would it end? What color would she make when mixed with the livid hue of mother natures darker appetites?

Achroyier once again fixed her sprawling limbs into a more serene position so that, just for a little while, she kept her dignity in her unconscious state. It was unnecessary, but it soothed him and gave his hands something to do while he awaited her return or death. A silvery light cast its way through the leaves and marked the contours of her face with stark pattern. It gave the impression she was to turn into a leopard with molten spots rather than Achroyiers breed.

Her eye fluttered open and through her eye, he could almost make out the working of her current fevered thoughts. In her mind, she ran from remembrances and dreams as she found her new identity. Her body responded in kind. It sifted like sand in the wind as it sought a new kind of stability. Her skin now bare as the last of the black fur fell out, and her human form of long ago retook the body to become naked and shivering. One last flash of inhuman teeth, and then nothing… a girl lying cold and bare under the trees.

Caedwynne posted July 13, 2005 03:34 PM

Darkness. It wasn’t the darkness of night that filled her senses…. not even the darkness of eyes closed. This was an old acquaintance… one she had frequently awoken to in a distant past. Blindness had returned and, for a very long moment, she was frozen in panic. It had been so long since she had been without sight, she was unsure if she could return to it comfortably.

There would eventually be regret. Vision gave her protection, though she hadn’t been completely unguarded without her sight. As with all blind, her other senses became incredibly acute. Sound, smell, touch…. all were heightened to form their own type of vision. But that was years ago. She knew she was being ridiculous, but assurance that this special type of sight would return to her was not forthcoming.

Her next thought as she clawed her way from the deepest depths of the nightmare was of pain. Every muscle…every fiber of her being was in some form of pain or another. This too she had experienced in a previous life and, for a time she considered that all she had been…all she had done these three years past had been part of the nightmare. The frown that found her face brought with it the consciousness of a fresh pain as well as a new thought. Perhaps she had never escaped Jason. Perhaps he was the reason for her current condition. She had personal experience with his evil and the many directions it could tear her body and soul. Perhaps this was just a new direction.

She was saved from the thought by a memory of a face… at least she hoped it was a memory and not some fabrication brought on by the nightmare. Achroyier. Random thoughts and feelings passed through her, some sharp and fresh as if it happened yesterday…some hazy and vague as if in dream. She just couldn’t be sure. She considered calling to him but, if she was truly still in Jason’s clutches, risking another man’s name on her lips would only bring more punishment.

She ventured to move, tightening muscles as they should to allow her to gain a sitting position. This action brought its own form of torture as each sinew screamed its own little agony. Thousands of small voices blended to one as the pain forced her to cry out. Still, she pushed herself upwards, ending with her back against what felt like a tree and panting from the excursion.

Another frown lit her face. A tree. A tree meant outdoors. Closing sightless eyes, she let her chin fall to her chest as she reached out in search of her surroundings. Touch: The bark of the tree at her back. Darkness that belonged to the night… there was no warmth of the sun usually felt even in shadow. Smell: The musty earth beneath her. The decay of vegetation and, somewhere in the distance, some creature that had fallen prey to a more powerful animal. Sound: Night creatures chirped and called to each other in a distance. Leaves danced to the music of the gentle breeze that passed over her face. Something…. No... someone. A man waited in the night. She could hear his breathing…. Smell his body. There was a distinct maleness to the senses he sent to her and… something more… something primal. Her frown deepened, head tilting slightly as she attempted to push her senses further, trying to gauge his nearness and size.

She wondered how long he had been there… how long he had watched. Again Jason passed through her thoughts but, somehow, she knew this presence was not the man who tormented both her dreams and waking hours. She licked her lips and, in a nervous whisper she called out the only other name that had passed through thought. “Achroyier?”

“I am here.” The voice that greeted her sounded odd, not as she remembered. The creature’s sound was rather low… like a rumbling growl with an after-taste of winter wind. Her head snapped up and immediately turned in his direction, though her eyes remained closed. Again she called to him, fear stinging the edges of her nervousness.

She heard him move… a heavy thing stalking towards her through the undergrowth. She lifted her chin higher in feigned courage, her fingers balling into fists as she forced herself to remain still. Her entire body stiffened to rock as a massive clawed hand touched her shoulder, the tenseness in her form causing thousands of aches to flair to life. His breath was warm on her face as he repeated his presence.

Through the growing fear, a disjointed and disconnected thought invaded her mind like an icy cold shower. His breath has passed over skin not teased fur. She was currently furless. Shakily, she lifted a hand to her face to confirm the realization. For the third time, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was Jason’s doing…that all she thought had been was merely threads of dreams and nightmares. Immediately, her hand dropped to her own breasts, touching the cold metal of the rings piercing her nipples. Confusion overrode the fear even as modesty slipped in to fill the cracks of her mind. Clutching the cloak, she wrapped it tightly around her nude body as she tilted her head up to where her senses had told her his voice had come from. “What has happened?”

His hand had retreated from her shoulder when she had pulled the cloak around herself. Now, as he spoke, it found its way to her arm, caressing her gently through the heavy cloth surrounding her. “There was a fever. You have just emerged from its grip.”

Unconsciously, she leaned closer to his touch, her body reacting to him even as her mind was lost in a myriad of thoughts and memories. “The hunger. Was the fever a result of not feeding the hunger?”

A simple “No.” was the only answer he would allow her.

She frowned as her hand slipping through the opening of her cloak in search of his warmth. She hesitated as her fingers first brushed his fur. An image of him in beast form passed behind her sightless eyes and for a brief instant, fear rode her emotions again. Just as quickly, it passed in the wind, allowing her to slip the warm fur between her fingers. “Please… tell me.”

Her frustration with him grew as he again parried her question. “What is it you wish to know?” She growled, balling her fingers through his fur as if to pull it from him though most of it slid from her grasp easily.

Just as easily as her anger flared, it melted into despair. She never thought she’d miss being what Jason had made her… she had often wished for nothing more… yet, the sudden loss of it made her realize all the advantages his evil had actually bestowed on her. The piercing scream that next echoed off the trees voiced all of her fear, rage, despair and frustration. Tiny fists beat against his massive furry chest as if rending damage would somehow undo all the years of sorrow… as if causing him pain would erase her own.

Matt posted October 16, 2005 07:00 PM

Listless and mindful of his new charge Achroyier slid to a lounging position nearby and proceeded draw breath on the vegetation. An action of instinct, imprinting this spot in olfactory memory as much as it was already in visual. If he had his way he would be content to lie here and enjoy the presence of the female till the sun rose and his hunger compelled him to roust himself. It was not to be, the female was impatient and sought answers to questions that would only bring more stress.

Stress was something he would rather avoid this early in the game, even though the nature of the becoming usually made this the most stressful time on purpose. When Nature had a new child, it was a harsh mother. It cared not for the frail and the weak, In fact it took every opportunity to weed them out and kill them before they could spread further weak seed. Even as Achroyier’s current mindset fully agreed with this idea, he stalled. To tell her of the truth of her new self would most likely trigger a change and that would lead to other instinctual passions. This could easily escalate into something that will delay them. Tempting, but not what he was focused on right now.

He scratched at the earth and watched her cock her head in the manner of those listening to sounds with their ears like normal folk look at things with their eyes. It was quite clear she was blind. He found that more than a little odd since the change usually erased such deformities or wounds, rejuvenating and restructuring to accommodate the efficient predator within the thin human shell.

“How do you feel?” His voice a perfect companion to his lounging position now, sensual and low, but still with the barely hidden hint of death upon it.

“Cold” was all she said. Emulating the same short answer approach he performed on her.

Amused but mindful of her emotional state he slid up next to her and curled around her small body till she was nested within his warm fur. Her reaction to stand suppressed by a surprisingly gentle hand, claws sheathed and subdued. From this close, she could feel the raw hungry void within him, and taste the mindless hunger. It called to her in beautiful but distant song.

“There, you should be warm now.”

Matt posted October 29, 2005 12:46 PM

On the inside Caed was in emotional turmoil. She had spent her life quiet so as not to be a burden on anyone, and old habits die hard. It was precisely that behavior that made her the perfect victim for her former master. It was child’s play to mold a slave out of someone that was already was so willing to please.

She stroked the soft fur of Achroyier’s flank in the absence of anything else for her hands to do. It brought back memories of kittens and childhood pets that had used to comfort her in time of need. Max was still such a comfort, but he was nowhere to be seen. Where was Max? It was not like him to run off in a time such as this. She thought of his wet nose touching her hand as it did when he sensed her in distress, and she found herself exploring Achroyier’s face instead.

Startled, she found his breath was hot and slow. His nose touched her palm, perhaps a type of comforting gesture, but all it did was inform her mind without a doubt that this was not Max as a large tongue licked roughly at her forearm in a calming groom. Her instincts told her that this was enjoyable and desired; her mind on the other hand was in danger of cracking. Grabbing two fistfuls of his side and then smoothing them out again, she laid her head against him and began to sob.

“We still have business to attend to. Are you ready to continue the journey?” His voice reverberated through his body making her feel it as much as hear it.

“I will just be a hindrance to you. You should leave me.”

“You are no hindrance to me now, even with your blindness.” A pause then. “Why are you blind? The change, it should have mended any ailments, not cause them.”

She wiped her eyes of excess tears and tried to keep the emotion out of her voice. Something inside her stirred and moved up her spine trying to get out and feed from her bottled feelings. She fought it down as best she could and kept telling herself that this was not the time for a mood swing and outburst. Her voice cracked with the strain when she answered, so she stopped short and began again.

“What do you mean? I am human again. I was blind before Jason changed me, so it is not a surprise to me I am blind again now that I have been changed back.”

“You are no longer human Caed. I did not change you back. I changed you into my kind. You now have my gift. The beast is part of what you are now more so than even before. I can teach you how to call on it when you have need, and how to hide it when necessary.”

“I… I… no.” She felt her own shoulders to reassure herself that she was still human. “I am human now.”

Her arms brushed over her bare breasts and she suddenly had a flash of modesty. Her face flushed with embarrassment. Even after all she had been through she felt shame now at being naked beside this creature. It did not help that he kept nuzzling her and licking her bare skin in what he saw as natural attempts of calming comfort. Her emotions where in a maelstrom of confusion now, and that only seemed to encourage the thing gnawing at the base of her brain, and with that a surge of panic joined the embarrassment.

She felt a liquid cold-hot flash go through her and felt her hand grab at Achroyier’s side to steady herself, only it was not the tips of her fingers that combed his thick fur. She looked up to wonder at the strange feeling and quailed. Her site was returning and with it an image of an inhuman hand. The image was blurry so she used her other hand to feel the details her eyes could not yet see. Her hand was covered in sleek fur up to her elbow, and gleaming claws tipped each of her slender fingers. Again the flash of emotion stoked the fire of the thing within her causing it to uncoil further.

Sensing her emotional shift and smelling her fear, Achroyier renewed his attempts to calm her. He nuzzled the side of her neck.

“RRRrrr.. Your passions will be wild if you transform now. Your mind will be thrown even more off-balance… Calm yourself and I can take you through this when you are ready.” He felt her body tense against his as the change began to take her.

His own words seemed suddenly empty to him. The smells this female gave off now were intoxicating. Words were better left to the humans in moments such as these, so he abandoned them for a low rumbling growl instead.

She was not listening to anything but the blood in her own ears. The world was alive in brilliant senses and the creature she was deep inside wanted out. 