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Werewolves (RP 8): A Time for Questions and Answers (6/16-4/18)

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Mae

Bent over in the corner of the room, lower than the bed, Timothy laid on the floor and listened to every word. As often as Timothy had discounted the power of words, he now listened to Melinda speak with the keenest of attention. It comes from a flower. It is medicine and a poison. Timothy felt an awful lump grow in his chest and he whined, turning over on his shoulder to rub it away but without avail. Melinda continued.

"... myth said the leaves would grant the opposite to those who partook in the leaves. Death, I presume ..."

Timothy groaned. He could see Kratos' legs from under the bed, and further out he saw the limbs of Melinda and Jackie. Jackie hadn't moved, so why did it seem like two people were speaking? Timothy's breathing quickened into an anxious pant. At last, Jackie shifted and Timothy rolled onto his chest again to watch them keenly from under the bed.

******

While Melinda spoke the Alpha remained seated, his large legs stuck out far from the bedside and his arms were propped up on his knees. He watched and listened, and everyone could tell that he was watching and listening to everything in the room. His yellow eyes had a focus that seemed both present and distant, as if he were listening to everything in the room and could still be aware of things happening miles away on Phantom Mountain.

Presently, another gust of wind poured through the gaping window. Kratos met Sabrina's gaze briefly, but he gave no motion for her to go or stay.

"A flower." He said at last, in his usual manner of speaking while his upper lip did not move and his deep voice held on to the last syllable of the word. That last 'R' rolled like a guttural growl from the Alpha's chest, and despite his human form it was still a powerful sound.

"It would be well," The Alpha continued,"For him - or them - to esteem that you had gone for the purpose Jackie has suggested, for then you may return having accomplished it. Jacqueline Ryder is dead to them, and anyone who seeks her shall himself never be found."

"But Jackie..." Kratos looked at the stubborn red-headed woman.
"You cannot live on this substance any longer." He said, and then his eyes were raised to Melinda again. "Withdrawal is not a pleasant experience among regular men. I would hate to think what becomes of a werewolf that must experience it. Have your men any idea of the outcomes of this, or has it been one great experiment at our expense?"

Deseree

Keen to Ulric's discomfort, Logan came up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. Her eyes fell curiously on the papers the girl held, and her head tilted slightly. When Tammy spoke, her full attention was placed on her. There was not much to be said on their part, however, and the strangers left soon after-going and coming with as much subtlety and more even than the wind itself.

She let her hand slide from her friends shoulder and continued past him, no longer a beast but a woman-her wolf form having been relented almost immediately after the strangers departed.

Her brow was narrowed as she approached Josh, not paying mind to the papers-after a quick glance she deduced they weren't worth her time. She drew a piece of hair back behind her ear and stood bent over his head, studying his face, then examining all of the bandages across his torso.

"As a little girl," she spoke slowly, touching a hand over one of the bandages carefully before straightening her stance, her back still to the others, "I was told stories, of these creatures.. they were called démon vlk-it is, as it sounds-wolves, possessed by evil spirits, that stood like men and craved for blood."

She shifted her weight slightly, resting one hand on the table and looking at Josh's hand, pressing her fingertips against his, "I did not know they were like to us... that they were us. I did fell the one that attacked me. It took every bullet I had.."

She stopped, considering.

"I do not feel like those hunting us are afraid as I was to attack this way. There is something more cruel, I feel..."

Indy

Melinda pursed her lips. Amused, or no annoyed but feigning once more in the guise of pleasantness. There was no point in feigning or pleasantness, not here, and yet in her own way she found holding to it was the last vestige of familiarity she was unwilling to relinquish.

“I’m glad you think so,” she said at last, slowly, as though she were instructing a child, “Because if I am not mistaken, you witnessed that withdrawal the night she was in the hospital”

She glanced thoughtfully at Jackie, as though waiting for her to interject, but strangely she found the redhead unusually silent. Shock, perhaps, but she suspected it was more stubbornness than anything else. She returned her steadfast gaze to the alpha, content to continue with or without her assistance.

“The question you should be asking,” Melinda did not restrain in enunciating the final syllable, as though it were a sharp-edged blade, "is what are the long-term consequences? Because as for that, I haven’t the faintest idea"

---

Jackie watched the exchange with only a stolid glint of her eyes beneath the wild fringe of her hair, her features unyielding to what lay beneath. What lay beneath in reality ? She did not know. Her mind was a stranger to her, and she found herself precariously suspended as though adrift in a universe all her own… she caught only a few glimpses of reality, and what she captured burrowed in her mind like a thorny bur; each syllable spoken made it only tunnel deeper.

It was all about her, about what she’d done, about what they’d done to her… and yet it wasn’t about her at all. She was a patient that needed diagnosing, or else a loose end to a tangled web. Perhaps in hours, days, or years, this moment would make sense to her. But presently all she knew was this:

She needed out.

She moved to stand, and she could feel Melinda’s gaze flicker to hers in a question she did not wish to answer.

“I need air,” her voice almost stuck to the inside of her throat. She was not asking permission; she moved towards the exit with liquid proficiency and be out the front door of the cabin in moments if none moved to stop her.

Mae

Kratos did not move to stop Jackie, but he did move to stop Timothy.

Timothy had shot to his feet the moment Jackie had stood up, but his gaze was not on her. His bright turquoise eyes held their intent on Melinda, and he was waiting for Jackie to leave.
Kratos extended his arm in Timothy's path like an iron barrier, nonetheless those calculating eyes were not blotted out. Timothy moved his head down and swayed his head in an act of intent concentration. It was the look of an animal hunting prey. Kratos watched him steadily and a low sound began to reverberate through the room. It was the sound of intense displeasure, as if the Alpha's bones groaned with immense strain. Timothy's eyes darted from Melinda to the Alpha and then to Melinda again. Slowly he then sat down on his haunches but that calculated gaze - that penetrating focus - did not cease.

Kratos said nothing at present.

Cat

Despite only three legs to work with and his own convinction not to lose Bianca, Toby was still very fast. The forest; trees, bramble, and Phantom plant passed him like a blur. He had no idea where he was going, neither how far to go or when to stop. Finally, when the commotions and familiar scents had all fallen away behind him, Toby heard Bianca's thin voice behind him and paused. They'd gone quite a ways away from the commotion and the rest of the pack. The cabins could not even be seen anymore.

Bianca rested herself against a tree, trying to catch her breath as she said. Toby found himself breathing quite heavily also, but to his surprise, he was not out of breath. He felt he could go further, and already knew he could go faster... Even on three legs.

Huh. That was surprising.
He'd never considered trying out for the track team, but maybe he should have. He mihgt have been good at it.. But then again, that might have shaken the status quo a little bit, for the scrawny nerd with lanky limbs to join track. He couldn't be good at school and at sports, that was probably taboo. Oh well! It didn't matter now. His school days were behind him, and he'd survived them well enough, thank you.

Toby's ears twitched at the sound of Bianca's muttering. Was she answering her own unspoken thoughts, or had she read his? Oh! Nightmares upon nightmares! A female who could read his thoughts? All at once his face flushed and he felt a heat is his chest. What horror! He'd never be able to think again, and if he didn't think first, he'd be impulsive-- And if he was impulsive, like stupid Jackie, he would do stupid things. Stupid things that would probably get him killed; but he wouldn't care, because he wouldn't think about it, and therefore he'd just be non-thinking and impulsive and die without ever thinking how he could have thought about that and not done it!!

Toby was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of someone running up toward them. His heart leaped to his throat, mistaking the approaching two as members of that enemy pack, but soon recognized their faces as belonging to Logan and Ulric and relaxed. It was a big relief to see Ulric hadn't been taken away, and that Logan was once again herself... Was that a good thing? He wasn't sure, but it was better then when she wasn't at least.

Smiling pleasantly, Toby opened his mouth to greet them, but was suddenly inturrupted by the distant sound of howling. He didn't recognize it. The howls were communicating to one another a dreadful message: Someone was hurt. Instantly, Bianca sounded a reply, and took off.

Well, darn it!
Didn't Bianca's parents ever tell her not to talk to strangers? Much less plan to meet with said stranger! That call for help could be a trap, or did he just imagine the fourty-million different groups of enemies that had just attacked them all at once?! Perhaps Grandma Buttermilk was right, perhaps this pack was too nice..

...No, wait. They had Jackie and Timothy..
...And Sabrina.

No, this pack wasn't nice at all. Grandma's wrong.

But now what was he supposed to do? He was all by himself in the wilderness now because his fellow pack members had ONCE AGAIN decided they were smarter than THE ALPHA and disregarded his ORDERS as mere FRIENDLY SUGGESTION. Oooooh, Toby didn't want to live in this kind of world. He didn't want to be a part of this pack. He didn't like them. He didn't like being a werewolf either. He just wanted to go home, become a brilliant scientist with all the answers, reinvent the common writing pencil so it could actually be sharped instead of having the lead fall out all the time, become rich and famous for his inventions, marry Jenn Peters, have six red-headed wittle puppies, and live happily ever after until he died of old age and was buried next to his sweetheart under a cherry blossom tree. That's all he wanted! Why wasn't that his life? Why couldn't it just be simple like that?

Indy

In two seconds she would have been out the front door. But in the midst of the first second she heard Timothy stir, and much like a compass needle pointing north, she froze in place. She was at the top of the stair well. Though only her back could be seen, every muscle was tensed at once. For a moment she didn’t so much as twitch, as though contemplating her next move.

Yet it was not indecision that stayed her, but something far stranger. She knew exactly what she would do at that moment, had not all her muscles locked in place to prevent her from it. It was restraint.

With one hand on the top rail, she turned slowly. Her lips were not drawn back into a snarl, yet the impression was left on her eyes nonetheless. Every ounce of her attention was narrowed upon that shadowy form.

“Don’t you dare touch her,” she growled, “Don’t even think about it. Or I swear upon my life, I will kill you”.

She took a few steps towards the entryway, one hand on the frame and the other clenched into a fist, “She is MINE, my pack, my family. Do you understand?

Mae

Timothy met Jackie's gaze directly. The light of intelligence shown clearly through his turquoise irises. The fur framing his countenance was devoid of any ridge or wrinkle that might be interpreted into a snarl; his expression was placid and contemplating. Yet he met Jackie's eyes evenly, and dared her to keep his gaze.

Jackie's anger was evident and her meaning could not be mistaken, but if she left the room it would not matter if her words were understood. Timothy did not believe in words. While in the room, Jackie held authority over her own affairs, but if she walked away Timothy would challenge her claim. That was the simple nature of it.

*****

Ulric was drawn behind Logan as her hand gloomily slipped from his shoulder. He came to the table and looked at the pages laying among the sheets. The paper edges fluttered in the breeze from the open door.

As Logan began to speak, Ulric listened and surveyed the pages Tammy had left behind.

Ulric looked at Logan with a solemn expression as she concluded. "Its hard to see passed differences sometimes," he said. "But the sad thing is, people who start killing stop seeing distinctions."

Ulric looked toward the window. The sunlight had begun its noonday wane, and no more gunfire had been heard on the mountain. Ulric was grateful for the stranger's sake, but he supposed the silence was another form of impending trouble. Should the hunters come upon the dens at night, Ulric feared the outcome.

"Logan-" He meant to ask her to find out why Kratos had delayed coming out of the den, but Ulric broke down in a coughing fit before he managed to get another word out.

So suddenly had the asthma come on that Ulric stumbled forward and fell against the table whereat Josh's legs were spread. His hand landed on the tea-packets Tammy had earlier provided and he noticed them for the first time. Wheezing and struggling for breath, he knit his brow and tore one of the packages open. "What is this?" He whispered inaudibly as the crushed leaves filled his palm.

A strange aroma arose where the packets were disturbed. Despite its strength, the smell was almost indiscernible from the mountain air. Very soon it seemed to consume all other smells - Josh's blood, the pines, the trace of the strangers - and leave not even its own subtle musk in the werewolve's noses. In fact, reality seemed distorted around it, as if the smell did not exist, or would make the werewolves believe that their surroundings did not exist. Yet Ulric was the only one so adversely effected that his breathing was hindered by it.

Ulric coughed and choked the more, and retreated from from the den to catch his breath outside.

Deseree

Bianca and Logan both drew attention to Ulric's discomfort. Logan initially made a move for the door but before her stony figure had moved a pace in its direction, Bianca's lithe form was gone except for the blur of blonde hair trailing behind.

All of the strangers had left. Two stray dogs had wandered in on the territory, not in challenge or as a threat but to save a life they didn't know. Joined in the same mission, a girl and her cousin who carried with them an otherworldly presence, coming and leaving with all the mystery of a rain shower on a sunny day. The room was silent, but alive. Logan breathed a deep breath and observed the significance of it.

Quietly, she gathered up the leaves and took them to the kitchen. They were placed in a pot, and she would do as Tammy had instructed, letting the water come to a boil before her eyes but not seeing it; lost somewhere in the far reaches of her thoughts, the strange encompassing aura of the leaves as the backdrop for them.

----

The arid gurgle of a tired, old vehicle could be heard outside the barn. A shadow of the truck was cast through the opening of the barn doors. Someone left the vehicle and there were footsteps on the gravel.. shortly thereafter, the entryway of the weary old structure was opened just so.

Silas looked in, slumped there for a moment, before walking up to Diane and offering a hand, his expression pained, albeit soft as he looked at his ally.

"C'mon Dorothy... lets get you back to Kansas."

Indy

Melinda knew what it was like to be hunted. How could she not? She’d always been the physically weaker, an ant who walked among giants. To be hunted was not only a consequence of her stature, but her nature to fearlessly tread where others did not. So she could not miss the hunger in the gaze that circled her, the desire, the savage intent.

She knew the rules of this game. They were cruder than the game she oft played, and with far more consequence, yet she knew the most basic rule: do not run. Remain in the tall grasses, head bowed low as the hawk circled for the moment she turned and fled out the door, then the hunt would truly begin. She need wait, bide her time, acquire more information until she could best her hunter. Not a moment before. And so she watched only Alpha Kratos, as though she observed nothing of his savage underling.

Jackie swayed at her feet, as though two strings pulled her in opposite directions. She wanted out, to run far, far away. And the other half tugged her to remain, to fight for what was hers, to the death if she had to. To remain was to be trapped. To go was to be trapped. Her breath exhaled distantly. She was as good as a caged animal, and yet those yellow eyes looked onwards like an invisible observer.

She turned to settled harshly on her sister. She hadn’t so much as twitched. She knew better than to say Melinda was ignorant of the undercurrents in the room — she waited, as she always did, for the next summer to come to free her from the ice. Yet she sat so still! Like a lamb in a lions den, readying itself for the inevitable sacrifice. She could feel her blood prickle heatedly under her skin, flushed.

She couldn’t take it anymore. If she couldn’t leave without her death, and couldn’t stay without personal torment, then it left only one option.

“You. You are coming with me,” she snapped, rushing forward and snatching up Melinda’s hand. She offered a quick, short breath of air and then was silent. Melinda stood quickly, yet as Jackie moved to pull she felt only the resistance of dead weight.

Jackie shot a pointed glare, as though she intended to melt her into submission, “I can carry you if I have to”.

As though to prove her point, she pulled forward. She was stronger than her sister and if she desired not to fall, Melinda could only move forward.

“Jackie stop!” Melinda protested sharply as her feet desperately searched for traction,”What are you doing? What are you thinking? Tell me this: do you have a plan past the front door?”

Jackie stopped. Silence. The answer was as it always was. But she didn’t give Melinda that victory.

“I’ll figure it out,” she snapped, pulling forward again.

“No. You won’t. I will. And quite frankly, you’ve ruined my plans one too many times,” Melinda pulled so quickly and with so much force, Jackie relented her grip, only, because they had already slackened.

Melinda continued, rubbing the red marks on her wrist. “Jacqueline,” her voice was grave now, glancing briefly over her general state, “You are not well… And if you aren’t here, then where else? I only want what’s best for you.”

The result was instantaneous. She turned on her heel, her eyes glinted fiercely on Melinda’s grey eyes, and her lips drew back in rage. As she took a a half step forwards, Melinda took a step back.

“Don’t you dare pretend with me,” she snarled, and suddenly her eyes found that yellow gaze again, “All of you. Stop pretending I’m some sick child. Stop pretending it’s all for me. Stop pretending you care…”

She took a step backwards. Towards the door, the wall, she wasn’t certain. Only that suddenly her steps had become strangely hollow, as though she walked in sand rather than solid ground. Her head felt light, and her shadow danced from the corner of her vision.

“Jackie, careful!"

Mae

Yes, those yellow eyes watched. Jackie struggled against herself in moral bondage and yet the Alpha’s eyes never relented. Why? Because captivity was in the mind and freedom was in a choice. But Jackie could not see which choice it was. That was why Jackie felt his gaze so strongly and fought the invisible and silent watcher; she had to make a choice she could not see, but she knew he saw it and he would not make it for her. Jackie was an expert at kicking against the pricks – anyone who ever demanded anything of her was a tyrant to be fought against, but in the end she hurt no one but herself. Ever she had been a slave to the wills of others, and she fought them in open rebellion, but never did she chart a decision from beginning to end. Now, there was no alternative.

As slow as a steady rain precedes a storm, the Alpha had risen to his feet. So slowly and so steadily had he stood that it was neither noticed nor comprehended by even Timothy, who waited on the ends of his toes for any movement to let loose chaos. Kratos still said nothing, everything that needed to be said had been said earlier that day above the Training Arena. Yet his gaze remained constant, as both an anchor and reminder, as well as a warning.

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