09-18-2013, 07:14 PM
November 4th, 2006
Roxborough State Park
5:27am
The night was bright for the bright full moon in the sky, but the patch of earth where Ivan and Lola slept was shadowed by a slanted cliff face. The Shadow Lord boy had slept in his Lupus form, a scrawny looking adolescent wolf with fur black as pitch and a muzzle as broad and strong as a fighting dog's. Lola, of course, was left in human skin through the cold night, and even with her flannel shirt and down vest she would have shivered and frozen in the elements. But she'd slept pressed to the wolf's side, and though he was still young and rangey in shape he kept her warm enough to sleep.
They'd been asleep for perhaps four hours at the most before a terrible sound punctuated the air and woke them both with a start, and Ivan with a yip.
"What the fuck was that?" Lola demanded to know hazily."
The noise burst again, and this time continued. It was as screaming, snarling, roaring sound. Two animals, not just the one, fighting somewhere within the mile's radius. The teenagers were snapped awake all at once: this, a mix of feeling the cold of a November night all at once since their bodies had parted, and a realization of the only logical thing that sound must be.
Two Garou, fighting and fighting hard.
Ice blue and very dark eyes met, and Lola's eyes widened while Ivan rolled and snapped up onto his four feet.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Lola swore and pushed herself up onto her feet. Ivan had already taken off, lanky legs cutting him through the grass and trees faster than Lola could keep up. But rest assured, she did a fine job of trying. Lola was a very fit, very athletic young woman. She was preparing for a life as a Warrior, and has been since she was old enough to sit still in front of a Garou willing to teach her a thing or two.
She lost sight of Ivan, for the black wolf blended with the night naturally, but he had gone downhill into the shallow ravine peppered with jutting diagonal rocks and patches of trees, now becoming quite bald of their multi-colored leaves. Her feet snapped twigs and scraped pebbles, but she didn't care to try and keep herself quiet. She only cared about her long-legged stride and keeping a strong, consistent pace.
This may be why she nearly trips over Teagan's body.
Lola's toe collided with a human shin, but she managed to catch her balance and halt her momentum quickly enough to avoid falling down or spraining an ankle. She stumbled to a stop and turned around to look and make sure she wasn't seeing things.
Sure enough, there was Teagan, laying still on the dirt, rolled onto her left side with her legs jutting awkwardly at the knees and one arm twisted behind her like a rag doll. She was missing her throat, and her belly had been torn wide open and chewed thoroughly. Her clothes were torn nearly asunder save for her pants and tank top. Lola stared hard for a second, and her face took on an ashen hue.
But she did not lean over to vomit. She didn't rush and feel for a pulse, because there was no way this girl could be alive. She didn't go slack at the sight of the carnage or buckle under the emotional weight of losing a comrade. Instead she whipped her head from side to side, squinting through the sparse moonlight to try and discern where Ivan and, no doubt, Edward were.
She didn't have to look hard, the splashes of blood glinting moonlight and clear path of broken trees was easy enough to follow. And follow she did.
Precisely twelve minutes after she was awoken by the sharp sounds of Wolves killing each other, Lola stumbled to a stop from her dead run with arms swinging, gasping for breath and steaming with sweat. The air from her lungs made sudden, pluming clouds in the air before her as she stood and stared.
There was Edward, crunched down and naked with his right arm wrapped up on top of his head and his face aimed at the ground. He had claw marks down his sides and his left arm dangled limp at his side. He shivered and panted and steamed. Ivan was crouched nearby him, in Crinos again, with his big hands awkwardly laid on the Fenris's arms and back to shelter him from the frosty temperatures.
Again, eyes met between the skinny young boy and the stringy young girl. They sucked in cold air from the night and spiraled to come to full understanding of what had just happened.
Roxborough State Park
5:27am
The night was bright for the bright full moon in the sky, but the patch of earth where Ivan and Lola slept was shadowed by a slanted cliff face. The Shadow Lord boy had slept in his Lupus form, a scrawny looking adolescent wolf with fur black as pitch and a muzzle as broad and strong as a fighting dog's. Lola, of course, was left in human skin through the cold night, and even with her flannel shirt and down vest she would have shivered and frozen in the elements. But she'd slept pressed to the wolf's side, and though he was still young and rangey in shape he kept her warm enough to sleep.
They'd been asleep for perhaps four hours at the most before a terrible sound punctuated the air and woke them both with a start, and Ivan with a yip.
"What the fuck was that?" Lola demanded to know hazily."
The noise burst again, and this time continued. It was as screaming, snarling, roaring sound. Two animals, not just the one, fighting somewhere within the mile's radius. The teenagers were snapped awake all at once: this, a mix of feeling the cold of a November night all at once since their bodies had parted, and a realization of the only logical thing that sound must be.
Two Garou, fighting and fighting hard.
Ice blue and very dark eyes met, and Lola's eyes widened while Ivan rolled and snapped up onto his four feet.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Lola swore and pushed herself up onto her feet. Ivan had already taken off, lanky legs cutting him through the grass and trees faster than Lola could keep up. But rest assured, she did a fine job of trying. Lola was a very fit, very athletic young woman. She was preparing for a life as a Warrior, and has been since she was old enough to sit still in front of a Garou willing to teach her a thing or two.
She lost sight of Ivan, for the black wolf blended with the night naturally, but he had gone downhill into the shallow ravine peppered with jutting diagonal rocks and patches of trees, now becoming quite bald of their multi-colored leaves. Her feet snapped twigs and scraped pebbles, but she didn't care to try and keep herself quiet. She only cared about her long-legged stride and keeping a strong, consistent pace.
This may be why she nearly trips over Teagan's body.
Lola's toe collided with a human shin, but she managed to catch her balance and halt her momentum quickly enough to avoid falling down or spraining an ankle. She stumbled to a stop and turned around to look and make sure she wasn't seeing things.
Sure enough, there was Teagan, laying still on the dirt, rolled onto her left side with her legs jutting awkwardly at the knees and one arm twisted behind her like a rag doll. She was missing her throat, and her belly had been torn wide open and chewed thoroughly. Her clothes were torn nearly asunder save for her pants and tank top. Lola stared hard for a second, and her face took on an ashen hue.
But she did not lean over to vomit. She didn't rush and feel for a pulse, because there was no way this girl could be alive. She didn't go slack at the sight of the carnage or buckle under the emotional weight of losing a comrade. Instead she whipped her head from side to side, squinting through the sparse moonlight to try and discern where Ivan and, no doubt, Edward were.
She didn't have to look hard, the splashes of blood glinting moonlight and clear path of broken trees was easy enough to follow. And follow she did.
Precisely twelve minutes after she was awoken by the sharp sounds of Wolves killing each other, Lola stumbled to a stop from her dead run with arms swinging, gasping for breath and steaming with sweat. The air from her lungs made sudden, pluming clouds in the air before her as she stood and stared.
There was Edward, crunched down and naked with his right arm wrapped up on top of his head and his face aimed at the ground. He had claw marks down his sides and his left arm dangled limp at his side. He shivered and panted and steamed. Ivan was crouched nearby him, in Crinos again, with his big hands awkwardly laid on the Fenris's arms and back to shelter him from the frosty temperatures.
Again, eyes met between the skinny young boy and the stringy young girl. They sucked in cold air from the night and spiraled to come to full understanding of what had just happened.