2 April, 1893 — The Woods

In the moments leading up to moonrise, Alasdair had cursed himself for miscalculating, for taking a risk that ended up being one step too far. Trying to stay involved in social engagements during the three days of the month where his nights were spoken for had always been a risk, but one he'd felt necessary; for someone who was otherwise in the habit of never turning down an invitation, a predictable monthly pause would have been noticed. But he'd always had to be careful to pick and choose what he did during these days that left him enough time to make it back to the Reach before dinner, and tonight he'd miscalculated, and there was no telling yet what the consequences of this mistake would be. This could be the end of everything — for him, or for some poor victim. Time would tell.

In wolfskin, there was no room for anxiety or fear for the future. His mind was preoccupied with the input of his senses: the smell of the soil, slightly damp from the latest rain and made complex by fungal growths and decaying leaves; the sensation of pine needles brushing against his fur as he moved through the woods; the sounds of animals scampering away from his track and calling out to each other in the night. Beasts fled from him, but he didn't bother to give chase. They recognized him as a predator, and he was a predator, but not theirs. The quarry that would have excited his drive to hunt was nowhere to be found.

(Alasdair had experience with this; he'd been finding secluded wooded areas to ride out full moons for years when he lived in Europe. It wasn't as safe as the Reach, but he'd taken what precautions he could to create a safe radius between him and anyone he might have hunted).

Then something caught his attention, something that broke the pattern of the night: there was something out there that wasn't running. Something that smelled familiar and foreign all at once. A mystery. He stopped his run and made a quick circle of the nearby trees, eager to see what would happen next.

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Mabel Brighton Faustus Prewett

  

Mabel was tired. It was one of those days where she’d barely stepped a foot in the hospital before she got pulled away for an assignment. And then, there was another assignment, and another, and another. By the end of the day when she returned to write up her reports, she could barely keep her eyes open. After a brief conversation with Marie, Mabel had gone to one of the spare desks and got to work.

Before she knew it, she’d fallen asleep at the desk and spilled her ink across the table. It was only when the maintenance man came around and roused her that she noticed the mess she made and gave up attempting to fill out the forms. She ended up walking out of the hospital wiping off the residual ink from her cheek and suddenly wide awake; not to mention incredibly frustrated she’d missed dinner. Despite her irritation, she was itching to burn off some energy.

Soon, the witch had turned into her animagus form and gave a little shake before darting off. Despite having been so exhausted during the day, running through the woods seemed to invigorate her. Wind whistled through her coat and she savored the feeling of dirt beneath her feet. Birds and little forest rodents scattered as she ran past, and Mabel let out a bark of laughter before catching sight of one of their tails and darting after it. Perhaps it wasn’t the kindest thing to do, mentally tormenting a little rodent, but she always made sure to leave them alone after a few paces.

Except tonight she noticed that the animals in the forest were making more of a racket than usual, and she stopped to sniff the air. Something was different. The hair on the back of her neck started to stand up; she would usually transform back into her human form and apparate, but something….something told her to stay in her animal form tonight. Thankful for her small stature and relatively dark color, Mabel shrank into the shadow of a nearby bush, her ears pricked for any sign of movement.

There.

The sound of feet on the forest floor; heavier sounding than she’d heard before. What…what was that?

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loveliness by mj <3

Alasdair had spent many a moonlit night at the Reach running alongside animagi, so the complexity of the scent — not quite an animal, but not a human either — wasn't new. This particular version of it was unfamiliar, though. This wasn't one of his sisters searching the woods to look for him when he hadn't made it back to the Reach in time for the moon tonight; this was someone he hadn't encountered before.

Not that he was capable in the moment of such complex thoughts. The familiarity of this type of scent brought to mind friend. The newness of this scent particularly qualified it as a mysterious friend.

He had not located the creature precisely, but between a light rustling noise near one of the bushes and what he could glean from his nose he knew the interloper was somewhere in that direction, and not very far off. Facing that way, Alasdair lowered his front half into a play bow, tail high and wagging.

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Merlin, but he was a massive creature. Mabel kept to her seat, the hair on the back of her neck still raised; the scent of danger still hadn’t wafted away. If anything, it’d grown stronger with the approach of the larger wolf. In the dark she could tell he was a darker color before his fur faded into a lighter color, which was quite in contrast to her own brown coat. That he sensed she was here was obvious as he turned in her direction. There was little she could do other than wait to see what he might do. He’d easily overpower her if he wanted to, but as soon as he faced her and stretched, she could tell he was more curious than anything.

She could rather say the same, but something still told her to stay where she was. Should she run? She was fast and smaller than him and might easily be lost amongst the brushes. There was no use in running into a nearby body of water, wolves could easily move through land and water - especially one as massive as this one. There was no threat, and yet she felt on edge. Perhaps there wasn’t any danger. Sniffing the air, Mabel took a tentative step forwards, her eyes glued to the larger wolf.

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loveliness by mj <3

As the other creature moved into view it was immediately apparent that she was wary of him; her body language gave away everything on her mind. Alasdair tilted his head as if in question. There were prey animals and predator animals, and it was usual for the former to either run or be on edge around him, but she didn't look like prey. She looked like a wolf, even if she was half his size at most.

He bounded to the left and dipped into another play bow at her, accompanied by a quick bark. Assuming he'd made his intentions quite clear by this point, he then turned and dashed off towards the nearest copse of bushes, hoping to be chased.

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She’d heard barks the entire time she’d been an animagus, and yet it still the echo of his cracking through the air made her stiffen. Her hackles almost raised; she was never this confrontational as a human. As an animal it seemed like she could feel a piece of herself fall away, the part of her that second guessed herself. She felt more confident in this skin - taller, even though she was obviously smaller.

In a whirl of darkness, the larger wolf bounded away, and Mabel was left blinking after for a split second. And then she tore after him, her paws clawing the earth and her heart hammering in her chest at the sudden thrill of running again.

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loveliness by mj <3

He'd trusted that the thrill of the chase would be enough of a motivator to get her running after him, but up until the moment he heard her move he hadn't been entirely sure it would work. She had clearly still been apprehensive, though he didn't understand why. But it didn't matter now. Now they were running. The scents and sounds and sights of the forest continued around them, but Alasdair was moving so fast that they almost seemed to warp around his path, as though the woods itself was parting to make way for their game. At first he paced himself, wanting to ensure he didn't lose her. Once he had a better sense of her movement speed he went through little bursts of energy, pressing ahead to increase his lead and then lagging back so that she had almost caught up with him — playing cat and mouse, though with far less deadly consequences.

After some time his body began to ache, the pleasant ache of exertion. He pushed himself once more to get a bit of space between him and the follower wolf, then found a place to conceal himself in the bushes. He crouched low to the ground, eyes trained on the trail he'd just been on. She'd be here any second, and when she came through he'd be ready to pounce.

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Once she’d taken off, time seemed to lose all meaning. The only thing that mattered was what was in front of her; underneath her paws; in the air. There were a few moments when she could almost forget she was following something. When she took the time to focus on the wolf in front of her, she could see him slowing down, then speeding back up. Was he waiting for her? Making sure she kept up?

There was a switch somewhere in her chest that flipped itself on, and she pressed further, hardly taking note of the branches whipping past. One blink and the figure before vanished. Her legs were carrying her too quickly for her to slow down to a complete stop at the point where she’d last seen him. So she dug her heels in and dirt sprayed out behind her like a wave. Skidding to a stop, Mabel looked left and right, lifting her nose to sniff the air once more.

The sound of a rapid heartbeat was near, and it was growing louder. Before she knew it, a snarl was tearing up her throat, and she snapped her head to the right, her ears pinned back.

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loveliness by mj <3

She had caught on to his change of track (he was, distantly, impressed), but although she had stopped running he hadn't given her enough time to properly sniff him out before he leapt. Her head snapped towards him as he was flying through the air towards her. He pounced, but was careful not to pin her for longer than a second before he leapt back, giving her room to get back on her feet. It was more of a tap than a real pounce; she was so much smaller than him and he had no intention of hurting her. He dipped into another bow, tail high and wagging. Before he could gauge her response, he realized the forest had been changing around him without his realizing it. The moonlight had been fading, and he'd been too caught up in the run and in the excitement of a strange new companion to keep track, and now — he realized only when a sharp cramp hit one of his sides, contracting his abdominal muscles in ways he didn't want — he was out of time.

With a mournful howl that was cut short by another muscle spasm, the wolf turned to slink towards the nearest bunch of bushes, instinctively seeking out what shelter he could for the upcoming transformation.

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The noise she’d made was lost to the wind. The forest spun quickly and she realized what had happened just as the large wolf had backed away. Rolling over, Mabel stayed haunched, crouched to the forest floor, her eyes on the wolf. Along with the realization that he’d pinned her came the knowledge that he had been playing; really it had registered when she’d been chasing after him, but she was still startled by the sudden contact.

He’d leapt off so suddenly that she continued to roll until she was back on her feet. And even though he had backed away to give her room, he suddenly flinched and made a noise. She felt her ears flatten once more. Had she injured him? Was she capable of injuring him?

She inched towards him. The healer in her had risen, and she was looking over him for any signs that he might be in danger. But he turned and disappeared into the bushes before she could try and communicate to him what might be wrong. In a split second decision, she trotted after him, ears perked and alert for anything else.

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loveliness by mj <3

He was entirely oblivious to her as the change overtook him; it was impossible to focus on anything at all when the pain wracked his body. Muscle spasms became contractions became contortions. He couldn't continue walking forward — couldn't make his body move in any way he intended — could only endure until it was finished.

The sharp pains dulled to throbbing as Alasdair's body settled back into its human form. He felt dizzy and couldn't see straight, which was normal for the first few moments after a full moon. He reached out towards the nearest object to steady himself as he swayed on his knees. It took a second for him to realize from the course texture of tree bark beneath his hand that he was in the woods somewhere, not in the basement of the Reach. Why hadn't he made it back home before the full moon? He couldn't remember, at least not yet; his head was still pounding from the pain and it was hard to think.

If he wasn't in the Reach then he didn't know where he was. If he didn't know where he was, he didn't know whether he'd hurt anyone last night. Dare blinked at the ground, trying to get his vision back into focus so that he could start tangling with this problem. He'd have to search the area, trace his tracks back to wherever he'd left his clothes and wand, and look out for signs that he'd encountered anyone else. Worse, he'd have to do all of that while naked and sore and possibly injured; he hadn't checked himself over yet for bodily harm, and he wouldn't have noticed the pain yet while his whole body was still throbbing from the transformation.

Then his eyes refocused, and he finally realized he wasn't alone in the woods. An animal was here with him. He knew some animals could run alongside werewolves without being harmed — the hunting dogs at the Reach accompanied them some nights, and the women who'd become animagi always survived unscathed — but that did not mean that he was safe from it, now that he was back in human form.

"Yah," he yelled at the animal, simultaneously reaching to grab whatever he could within reach — a broken branch, in this case — and swinging it towards the creature. He didn't really intend to hurt it... but if the options were to hurt it enough to scare it away or wait for it to decide what to do with him, it was no choice at all. He was defenseless without his wand, so he needed this beast gone while he recuperated from the night he'd just had.

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She heard the cracking of bones before she saw it. The wolf’s form seemed to ripple in an uncoordinated dance of limbs and fur. What in Merlin’s name? Mabel stopped in her tracks, staring at the changing form. He was a werewolf. Dear God, he was a werewolf. How stupid could she have been? As if searching for confirmation, she directed her gaze to the forest’s cieling. The thick shadows of leaves were fading and she saw the thinnest sliver of light peek through the tree trunks. Another noise jerked her attention back to the man in front of her, and she started to obey her instincts to run away. She heard Dory’s voice in her head, barking at her to get out but -

….what if he’d been hurt?

From what little she knew about werewolves, the transformation was not a pleasant sensation. She also knew that a werewolf wasn’t dangerous once they’d transformed back into their human form. Even so, she approached with caution; she kept her eyes trained on his face, not only for purposes of monitoring his expressions as he came out of the daze of transformation, but also because (despite having not witnessed a werewolf change form) she was gratefully equipped with the knowledge that when werewolves came out of their transformation they were not clothed. Healers usually weren’t as bothered with being presented with a patient who was undressed to a certain degree, but then again modesty was hard to shed when one had it practically beaten into them (though after losing her virginity to Dory on the shores of the Black Lake, Mabel seemed to be able to drop her inhibitions with a little more ease; she couldn’t imagine why it’d had that effect, and not the opposite).

Before she could step forwards again, before she could get a good look at the man, a branch came whipping out of nowhere. A white hot pain seared across her face and she yelped as she stumbled backwards. In her haste to get away, she misstepped and felt her back paw twist under her and she gave another whine of pain. His shout of warning had been enough; panic tore through her and she staggered through a clearing nearby before shaking off her own animal form.

Laying in a pool of her hospital robes, she managed to find her wand tucked safely inside her sleeve. Then turned on the spot, and apparated away with a loud crack.

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loveliness by mj <3

The yelp the creature let out was so clearly one of pain that Dare did feel mildly regretful at having hit the creature, but as it darted away his predominant feeling was one of relief. He couldn't have fought off a wild animal if it had wanted to do him harm, at least not in his current state. It was a mercy that had worked, but he wasn't going to let his guard down just yet. He didn't know if the beast had left entirely or had just increased its distance and was now watching him from somewhere just out of reach, evaluating whether or not he was weak enough to strike. He blinked again, trying to push through the thrumming pain and clear his head faster.

He rose unsteadily to his feet, still brandishing the stick. Alasdair flinched as he heard a crack from the nearby woods, but nothing came barreling his way. After a moment he crept forward to where he'd last seen the animal and peered down at the mud. He recognized wolf tracks immediately, and the soil was damp enough that he could easily follow them out of the clearing... right up to the point where the tracks changed and were decidedly not lupine.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

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