Frozen Moon // a werewolf rp // Private - CLOSED

This is a private rp between myself, @Chogiwae, and @Imperfect_Autumn, but you're welcome to stalk!

Four strangers in their late teens meet under the most unlikely of circumstances—–a full moon, freezing March temperatures, and a strange forest surrounded by twisted rumours. Shadows that contort and solidify to form horrific beasts, man-wolves darting between trees, whispers of dark magic in the air. At least, those are the stories passed from mouth to mouth by the residents of a town near to the fabled woods.

In reality, the forest holds nothing but a tiny, crude village home to a raggedy pack of werewolves. Not cruel monsters or bloodthirsty nightmares, but an exhausted, tight-knit family of outcasts bound by something much stronger than blood. By day, it's easier for them to pass as regular humans. But when the nights grow longer and colder, as the moon waxes into a full, glowing circle, a transformation begins—-a transformation from man to wolf. They do what they can to survive, but winter is ending… and danger is coming.

:D

Name: Joseph Colombo (goes by Joe)
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Age When They Were Turned: Hasn't happened yet.
Appearance: Tan skin marred by crisscrossing scars and dotted by the occasional moles and sunspots. Dark brown eyes (almost black), very short (nearly buzzed) brown hair. 6’1”, broad shoulders, muscular build (especially around the chest), a mouth that seems to be in a permanent scowl, but makes deep dimples appear when it curves into a smile. In wolf form, he has grey-brown fur, a large, muscular build, dark brown eyes, and a patch of white fur on his forehead (plus lots of scars).
General Attire: Casual attire, generally anything easy to move in. Cargo pants, monochrome t-shirts, usually shades of brown or tan. When he’s not on the job, he’ll wear jeans and a white t-shirt, maybe some hiking boots. Hates hats no matter the weather, wears a maroon scarf when the weather gets colder, loves his brown leather jacket, and always has a small golden cross necklace on beneath his shirt.
Personality: Acts very tough and closed-up, very up-front as opposed to passive aggressive, gets angry quickly and easily. Overprotective, insanely loyal, a surprisingly strong moral code despite what he’s forced to do for a living. Surprisingly nurturing and gentle when you get to know him, much more practical than creative. Sticks to the facts, goes with his gut instincts, understands the importance of careful planning instead of running into situations unprepared. A perfectionist, needs everything to be neat, super tidy, and perfectly in place.
Backstory: Grew up under two strict, harsh parents who frequently beat him when he did wrong. Many siblings and cousins who he was close to, but his interaction with the outside world was kept limited. Since his parents were important members of the New York mafia, he was sent out on missions at an early day. He killed his first target at age 13, something which still haunts him to this date.
Other: Left-handed, tough parents, the oldest child (two younger brothers and one younger sister). Loves dark chocolate, struggling to recover from his addiction to cigarettes.

Name: Zenith (Zee-nyth (rhymes with myth) Faith

Age: 18

Gender: Female

Age When Turned: 17 (nearly eighteen)

Appearance: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/09/2d/5d/092d5db69034e06593c0c8dd3ee7b9f0.jpg
Her wolf form is brown-fur with a patch of black on the fur around her nose. She has golden rings around her eyes. She's small and doesn't seem to be very tough-looking.

General Attire: She prefers easy-to-move-in clothes. Due to being a werewolf, she wears inexpensive clothing in case she shifts and tears up her clothing. Those include a size bigger shirt and pants, as well as sneakers.

Personality: Soft-spoken and humorous, but also sarcastic and a little tempered. She's an introvert but can hang around in groups if she's familiar and comfortable with them. She's extremely loyal and forgiving, which are two of her flaws, and cries rather easily. Zenith loves to read, explore new places, and is extremely curious by nature. She's also philosophical and knows what to say and when to say something. She believes in self-comfort and space, so she most likely leaves someone alone for a while before approaching them if they're upset. She hates unneeded deaths.

Backstory: Zenith was drawn into a forest due to her curiosity a month before her eighteenth birthday. She was following after a sound and a beastly appearance. There, she was jumped and bitten by a wolf she can't seem to remember, but she swears it had fur the color of moonlight. She was later found unconscious and brought to a secret village of wolves. She never went home in fear of being disowned by her father, but later, once she was more stable, she faced her terrors.

Other: Ambidexter, loving father. She's smaller as compared to other wolves her age, and weaker, too, but she makes up for those losses with her stealth, agility, and brains. She has the tendency to use foods as swear words. She is also the type to have the 'Swear Jar'. She makes funny faces when she's in deep thought, and some times she'll stare right at someone while she's lost in thought.

They look great!

(So does yours~)

(Oof, sorry. Lemme correct that!)

(That okay?)

(I love Zenith’s name, Oml)

(Thank you~ Both you and A!)

Leaves crackled and crunched beneath the thick soles of my hiking boots. A chilling breeze stirred the brittle branches on each towering tree. Rodents skittered through the underbrush, the occasional insect buzzed past my ear. Besides that, the forest was silent.

I kept my fingers wrapped firmly around my handgun, seeking solace in the cool metal and the bullets held within. But the comfort was empty, nearly nonexistent. I was completely alone, an eight-hour drive from my home city, and on a mission to murder a lonely old logger who lived in the middle of the very same woods the heavy townspeople spoke of in fear and distrust.

Shadows that moved and solidified. Vicious monsters with enormous fangs. Bloodthirsty man-wolves and things that went bump in the night. And all of it complete bullshit. This was a forest. An old and slightly creepy forest, yes, but nothing more. No phantoms drifted between the fractured glimpses of sky visible from between the bare branches above. No vampires lurked in the dark. The woods were normal.

Trees. Bark. Decaying leaves. The last traces of leftover snow. An uncomfortably chilly breeze. There was nothing abnormal about any of those.

It’s just superstition, I told myself, picking cautiously over the fallen tree that my flashlight had illuminated. You’re almost there… You’ll be home soon…

I curled up against a building, knees pressed to my chest as I breathed heavily. A month—it had nearly been a month since I’d been Turned. If they’d told me I was a werewolf, I wouldn’t have believed them. But the intense craving the first week, and then the transformations made it harder to not take their word for it. I had been bitten. I was one of them.

And I wanted to go home. I was so afraid of these creatures. If I disobeyed, would they punish me? Would they eat me? They’d forced me to eat, and when I had refused, they all but shoved it down my throat. Perhaps they wanted me to survive, but I couldn’t help but think maybe they wanted to fatten me up. I was terrified. I was deathly scared. The thought of interacting with any one of them now caused a sniffle to escape my lips as my eyes watered. I was eighteen and I still couldn’t help but cry easily. I blinked the tears away and stood up shakily. I couldn’t stay here. I wasn’t one of them.

But as I stood up to walk away, I tripped on my own two feet.

A twig snapped somewhere behind me. I jumped, but was quickly reprimanding myself. Idiot. It’s probably just an animal. I cast a glance over my shoulder anyways, but saw nothing and resumed my pace.

The bitter cold seeped through my brown leather jacket, a gentle wind slipping through my short hair. Thankfully, winter’s last snow had mostly melted away, leaving behind tiny snowcaps and puddles of slush. All that remained was the jarringly low temperature and the unforgiving light of the full moon above.

The steady beam radiating from my flashlight flickered dangerously, causing me to curse out loud. Just before it flickered a second time, I managed to catch sight of a cabin up ahead… my destination. Almost there…

I stopped with my back against a tree to triple-check that I had ammo left. The shadows seemed to stretch across my feet, battling back the cold, silvery moonlight in a playful game of tag that neither would ever win.

One, two, three… I was set. All that was left to do now was to but one of these bullets through Mr. Johansen’s head. What he’d done to offend Angelo (or the ‘Angel of Death’, as we called him), I had no idea, but I also had no choice but to obey my boss and his Lieutenant, my father.

I sighed and pushed myself off the tree to resume my previous pace. By now, taking a life wasn’t a big, traumatic deal. It was just…. something I’d rather not do. A tiring endeavour. At least, that’s what I told myself…

A soft sound from behind me pulled my attention away from the cabin up ahead. I tensed. Was someone following me? Slowly, I spun around and shone my flickering flashlight in the direction that the sound had come from. I couldn’t shoot or I would blow my cover….

My entire body froze at the sound. I couldn’t help it. One of them was touching me. I was touching him. I swallowed thickly and my head lifted up to look at him, straight into the eyes of a creature I thought didn’t exist at all.

And it was unfair. It was unfair that they were monsters yet so painfully beautiful. It was unfair that they could have voices so soft it could put you to sleep. So unfair, because it made my fear of them seem silly and childish. This man was one of them, he was a wolf in a man’s skin, but the way he held me with such gentle hands made me want to crawl away.

I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to go home.

“Ye—yeah…” I stammered and briefly wondered if he could smell the fear on me just as much as I could smell the calm in him. “I’m—I’m fine…”

I took rapid breaths, trying to calm myself down. Why was I such a coward? I shouldn’t have walked into that forest. My father had warned me not to wander off, but I did it anyway. It was my fault. I was such an idiot.

I swallowed thickly as he let me go, and I took a step back, wrapping my arms around my middle. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him in the eyes.

“I’m okay,” I breathed out. “Thank—thank you.”

Why was I thanking the ones that got me into this situation? It was one of their kind that stripped me off of my humanity. Why was I suffering?

Sierra:

Something bright suddenly shone in my eyes, blinding me. I growled at it, shaking my head to get it to go away. It stayed, even when I closed my eyes. What was this?

Shaking myself again, I stepped forward, trying to ge away from the light. It only got worse, and I growled again. I couldn’t see, and that was a problem…

My eyes widened in surprise as a huge wolf stepped into the light from my flashlight, shaking its head and growling. I took a stumbling step backwards as fear shot through me. If my pursuer was human, my response would have been vastly different. But the sight of the deadly, carnivorous animal turned my blood to icy slush.

I couldn’t shoot it, or else I’d alert the logger I so desperately needed to kill. Failure to complete my mission within the given time slot would earn me up to fifteen lashings all the way across my back. I couldn’t afford to lose this, but the wolf only stepped closer and closer. My flashlight flickered a fourth time. But the animal only kept advancing, until my fear response took over. Without stopping to think twice, I raised my arm and pulled the trigger.

The shot went wide.

His sharp eyes looked over me and I fought back a shiver. My eyes watered again and I bit down on my lip.

Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry— wetness dripped from my eyes and I immediately wiped it off, hating myself for crying in front of an enemy.

“It’s nothing,” I replied shakily, the intense, increasing smells driving me crazy. I could hear the quietest noises in this area. I hated this. “I—I should go.”

(Oml no, it’s great)

The wolf lunged forward and sank it’s fangs into my arm. And suddenly, I was slammed back in to a memory.

The door slams shut behind me. Dim lights, flickering on and off. All is silent. And suddenly, something moves. Three dogs, crouching in the shadows, their eyes wild and ravenous. Slobber drools down from their jowls. Ribs show through their chest; they haven’t eaten in days.

I scream and stumble backwards. “Dad!” I pound on the door. No one answers; my father is the one who put me in here. “Dad! Please” My punishment. I was bad, and this is my punishment. All of a sudden, the three dogs look uncannily like starving, ruthless wolves.

Slowly, they advance.

Pain ripped through my body like a wildfire, yanking me sharply back to the present. A strangled cry parted my lips. And holy hell, did it hurt. Pain, pain, pain. It exploded through my arm and shot through my body. My whole world, crashing down around me.

And then, the cold. The moonlight on my skin burned, but not like the sun. Like dry ice, like a glacier’s worth of ice water. It seemed through my flesh and straight to my core. Fire and ice, battling back and forth. Tearing my apart.

I fell to my knees.

“Rhys,” I repeated his name quietly. For whatever reasons, the name sent warmth flooding through me. I swallowed thickly again. What I wanted, I couldn’t get. I gathered that much from the little time I spent here, as well as from all those myths. “There’s no way I can be a human again, can I?”

Was Rhys Turned, too? Judging from his behavior, he was probably either born one, or Turned at an early age.