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

Why was this happening? What was happening? A wolf had bitten me. A normal wolf. It’s mouth wasn’t foaming; it wasn’t sick. But here I was, trembling on the ground, trying and failing to pick myself up as pain overwhelmed me.

I knew what it meant to hurt. I’d been burned, whipped, cut, shot. I knew how to hold my own against twenty lashings and walk away without betraying what I felt. But this? This was hell on earth.

Suddenly, my ears popped. The world burst like a bubble. Colours sharpened and saturated, cool greys and navies swelling to much brighter tones. Sounds filled my ears, chattering, whispering, crackling, whistling, spilling into my mind until it went white. And the smells. Wet soil. Deer droppings. Trees. Moss. Dead leaves. Wolf. And blood. God, the blood. I wanted it, craved it, thirsted for it, needed it. All of this, coupled with the immense pain and confusion….. I thought I was dying.

Rhys:

Ah. So that was what was bothering her. She must have just been recently turned… Why was there no one helping her through this?

The smile fell from my lips as I gave her a gentle look, slowly shaking my head. “No. I’m sorry…”

I knew the answer already. I’d been told countless times, but hearing it again caused my eyes to water again. I wasn’t a crybaby. I was usually strong. I cried easily, but it wasn’t all the time. But my life had turned upside down. My father always told me my curiosity would get me killed. He always said it would get me into trouble. I was in trouble. I was as good as dead. And I could never go back to my father again because I was a monster.

I cried again. I missed my father. I missed his warm embrace and his laughter and the soft look in his eyes. I missed not being able to hear heart beats and smell flesh and blood. I missed being. I put my face in my hands and finally broke down crying for the humanity I had lost.

If I hadn’t broken down, I don’t think I would have let him take me away. Scratch that, I think I would have either way. He grabbed my arm and took me away, and I didn’t think I cared if I was letting him lead me to my own death. I didn’t want to live like this—live like a monster.

“Hey… everything will be okay. All right? You can do this,” his gentle voice filled my ears and I felt the raging hot blood in me slow down a fraction. I smelled the sincerity from his voice. It would have been better if he wasn’t as gentle and more like the ones who brought me here. Calm, demanding, impatient.

“I can’t,” I whispered quietly. “I don’t think I can do this, Rhys… it’s too much for me…”

Sierra:

I whined, soft and low, as I watched him changing. This was the first person I had turned. I didn’t like it…

He looked like he was in so much pain. His breathing was heavy, his eyes wide open. And he smelled like fear.

I crouched down in the bit of snow I was standing in, resting my head on my forepaws. Another whine blew through my nose as I looked at him. I would have to help him through this…

The moon and frosty cold beckoned to me, whispered soothing promises in my ear. False comforts filled my head as the icy wind wrapped its arms around me, lulling me to sleep. I did not succumb. I fought back with everything I had, battling moonlight and icy fingers until my arms gave out and sent me sprawling. No. NO. You. Will. Not. Have. Me.

But the moon didn’t take my refusal kindly. The bitter cold increased tenfold, seeping straight through the flames and heat and infecting my core. The silvery light beat my into submission, drawing whimper after whimper from my trembling lips. And suddenly, spikes were pushing through my skin.

Wait—no. Not spikes, but fur. I stared in horror as grey-brown fur overtook my arms. The bloodlust swelled and strengthened. Claws pushed themselves out from under my nails. My bones snapped and strained, reconfiguring muscle and sinew until my body began to take an entirely different form.

The changes stopped. A spark of hope jumped up within me. The fur receded…..

And came back. Again and again and again, I changed. Human to monster and back again. Transformations battling for dominance, overtaken by the other before they could be complete.

Was I in hell?

I sniffled, wiping my wet face. I bit back the tears that threatened to fall. How could I do this—live like a wolf?

“I’m scared,” I admitted, looking down at my trembling hands. It was a miracle I could even stand on my feet. My knees felt like they would buckle any second. “I don’t—I don’t know how I can get through this.”

Family. Family. That word felt like a stab to the heart. Was she to replace her real family—replace her father for a pack of werewolves? She could never do that. She could never let anyone replace her father.

But she still found her tears drying, the fear diminishing if only a little. She finally looked at Rhys, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Will… will you help me?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but she knew he had heard her. Of course he had.

I lay there, curled into a tight ball, shaking and convulsing each time the changes began again. After…. minutes? Hours? I'd lost track…. the transformations finally slowed somewhere three-quarters of the way between wolf and human. I couldn't move, could scarcely think or breathe…. but I was aware of the she-wolf standing next to me. Why was she still hear? I could almost sense her distress…

I raised my eyes to her and released a soft whimper, praying to the gods of insanity that something in this twisted hallucination would go my way. Help me…

I was stuck in some sort of nightmarish hallucination—–that had to be it. Could too much nicotine do that to you? I hadn't taken anything besides a cigarette or two recently…

Whimpers and strangled pleas continued to fall from my lips. I was weak, trembling, a complete wreck, barely able to lift my head to the sky.

“Zenith,” I replied softly, my arms tightening around myself. Why was he so beautiful? His voice, his face—everything my eyes took in was breathtaking. How was it even possible? “My name is Zenith Faith.”

He was so gentle, so patient with me. He didn’t even know who I was, yet he was treating me so kindly… everyone else treated me nicely because my father was the mayor. They had to. But Rhys… he didn’t have to, but he was.

“That’s okay,” I replied, though I was a bit hesitant. I didn’t find any reason to be, because he was already making me feel comfortable. But I was too easily convinced. “I—I don’t mind.”

I nodded, mesmerized by the smile on his face. It was completely sincere, but maybe I was looking too far into it. I was always too trusting, but something told me I didn’t have to worry.

“Okay,” I said a bit more clearly, wiping my wet eyes again. “Let’s go.”

(frantically reloads)

The idea of meeting new people made me anxious. I wasn’t a people-person—and I guess that applied to were-person, too. Unless I got comfortable with someone, I wouldn’t come out of my shell. And right now, Rhys was the only one I felt comfortable with.

But still, I nodded, unwrapping my arms slowly so I could mess with the hem of my shirt.

“Are there lots?” I hesitatingly questioned, stepping towards him. “Of newly turned, I mean.”

My curiosity got the better of me. I looked at Rhys, and I didn’t know whether it was because I was asking questions or because I wanted to stare at him a little longer.

“So it just takes one bite?” I inquired, twirling my side braid around my finger.

My breathing quickened when he smiled at me, but I managed to control it.

“And… how much of the myths are true?” I continued, hoping I wasn’t annoying him. If I was a monster, I’d better learn more about myself. “Is it true that you can’t stomach anything other than flesh and blood?”

I let out a small laugh at his reaction.

“So you can wolf down whatever you’d like,” I hummed, looking ahead. “There’s another myth that says werewolves are afraid of silver. How much of that is true?”