Post by Silver on Oct 5, 2005 18:56:28 GMT -5
The wolf blinked through the bright sunshine flooding the clearing. He cast his eyes over the open area, quickly assessing his chances of being caught unawares. The clearing was surrounded on all sides by forest, giving forth the illusion that you were in a wildlife paradise. No one had to know a road was about a mile and a half away.
He rolled his shoulders as he inhaled deeply. The old scents of deer, rabbit, and the fresh scents of trees, and grass flooded his nose. No humans. He gave himself a great shake, working loose a few bits of fluffy undercoat.
Molto bene.
The wolf walked from his vantage point where he had been standing beneath a maple tree and strolled confidently toward the middle of the clearing where a particularly soft patch of clover had grown. He took one last furtive look around and then fell to his side with a thud. He stretched out, extending his paws and tail until his spine cracked.
Ahhh. Comfort.
He closed his eyes as the sun overhead beat down on his dark coat, warming him into drowsy relaxation. His ears flicked lazily about, following the little sounds from the forest, but as time slipped by he began to doze.
Just a little while, then I'll have to be going.
He breathed in deeply then allowed his body to fully relax.
Within minutes he was asleep.
~~~~~~~~
He awoke to the sound of something attempted to quietly tramp through the forest north of him, the way he had entered the clearing.
Damn.
He lifted his head and scented the breeze that was flowing by.
Human. Bloody hell.
He rose wearily to his feet and turned to meet what was coming.
A girl cautiously stepped into the clearing. Her eyes first locked onto his, then glanced quickly away, avoiding a struggle for dominance.
“Wow.” He heard the words come out as a quiet sigh as the girl took in his size and colour. She leaned heavily against the tree she had been standing beside. “Aren't you gorgeous.”
Si, I am. And you haven't even seen me in my more normal form. He snorted silently to himself.
He allowed the human part of his brain to assess her. She was relatively short, but shapely in an extremely appealing way. The arms that were visible via a red t-shirt showing strongly developed muscles, promising some strength. She wore jeans that hugged her shape, making his mouth go slightly dry in a very un-wolf like way. He dragged his eyes up from her legs to her face. Her lips were small, but full, suiting her facial structure perfectly. She had blue eyes surrounded by long dirty blond lashes. Her hair, which was bound up in a bun was a rich dirty blond, and very long.
Il placere è mio. Now little red riding hood, aren't you supposed to move on to your grandmother's?
He sat down heavily, trying to communicate that he wasn't leaving any time soon.
I'm comfortable signorina, please, leave me be.
She merely looked at him for a moment, then she visibly gave herself a shake.
“I've seen your tracks in the forest, buddy. I have to hand in my thesis this year, and normally I use the local wolf pack as my subject. Since you came around they've moved deeper into the park. It's made it damn harder to track them, that's for sure.” She met his eyes with a mock accusing glare, then looked away. “All your fault.” Her voice was low and soft, with a slight singsong way to it.
It was patronizing.
It's not my fault they don't understand me.
He turned his head to the side and fought the urge to shrug. His patience was running short.
“Some of my classmates would find you enthralling.”
Do you, signorina?
As if she had heard his question she continued on, “I, myself, think you are magnificent, but don't let it go to your head.” She laughed softly to herself. “Look at me. I'm standing here having a VERY one-sided conversation with a wolf. I've lost it.” She shook her head to herself and reached into her pocket, pulling forth a small digital camera. “Can I take your pic handsome?” She began to raise the camera to her eye, but then the wolf moved.
He barked once, a warning.
Sorry signorina, no evidence I exist.
The girl looked at him quizzically, but shrugged and centered him in her camera's focus.
The wolf stood up, his hackles rising.
Look bella, I tried the nice way. I really did, but you just do not seem to comprehend.
He heaved a sigh, then brought his lips back, revealing his canines. He forced a snarl, pinning his ears against his head. He smelled the flood of fear that she couldn't hold back as the realization of her situation came crashing into her brain. She took a halting step back; he stepped forward.
Buona notte, signorina. He watched wearily as she turned on her heel, casting a daring glance over her shoulder and calmly strode away. He heaved a sigh and sank once again to the ground. Scusi signorina, I did not want to have to chase you away. Cioa bella.
Oddly, the wolf no longer felt like lazing about, he was strangely restless; instead he felt like going home and attacking his company's unpaid building costs. Or maybe hiring a few college students onto the project.
You disturbed me signorina.
The wolf got up and trotted out of the clearing, heading to the brook where he'd left his clothes, wallet and car keys. When he reached the willow he'd hidden his pile of stuff beneath he dug his nose into the clothing and lied down. He then began to picture his body as it was when he was human, how his hands looked as they glided across his keyboard in his home office, how his abdominal muscles moved beneath his skin when he was lifting loads. A mental image began to form in his mind as he pictured what he saw in the full-length mirror in his bedroom including the sea green eyes and dark hair.
Finally the complete image of himself solidified in his mind, and once it did the real magic began. He felt the dark mist that was forming flood around and over him, covering his form. He had lost his admiration for this event early on, when he discovered that was how it always was when one of his family members became the bisclavret.
Within moments Marcellio Maximus Menotti felt the regular human skin over his muscles and bone, and the mist receded as he opened his eyes. In his more normal form he sharply cracked his neck and without further ado got dressed. He began to head back to his car, which was in the park parking lot about a mile away.
His mind began to drift over his 'condition' as his family was often referring to it. Being a bisclavret was a genetic throwback that happened every now and again in his family: apparently. No one had bothered to tell him - at least, not until he himself had started to show the signs of what he was becoming.
His father, upon realizing his only son had this 'condition', immediately sent him off to visit the nearest cousin who was also afflicted. His cousin, Lucius, had taken Marcellio under his tail, so to speak, teaching him about what it was to be a bisclavret. Evidently this gene was not uncommon in the Menotti line: approximately every one out of ten family members had it. The bisclavret gene and what it did was hidden from doctors and family members unless absolutely necessary. The gene itself did not show up in the DNA until the afflicted had their first… transformation.
He waved to the blond as he caught sight of her climbing into her beat up Jeep. She looked at him oddly but waved nonetheless.
See, a moment ago you were all over me, now you barely acknowledge me. The minds of women!
He laughed to himself as he pulled out of the lot. Maybe he'd see her next week, or even sooner if she came every two days like he did.
Some people jog with their dog; I become him.
Marcellio shook his head at the wonder of it all. The only bisclavrets he knew were the ones in his family, but it was not difficult for him to imagine the others that might be out there.
It's amazing what the human nature will hide from its kin until there is no choice left. Imagine what else is waiting out there to be found - or better yet, what is hiding right under our noses?