Where the wild things are... [open]

[abigail]

It was her favorite time of the day; twilight.
The sun had just sunk into the ocean; the pastel colors of dusk casting a brilliant reflection over the rolling waves. Elle made a frame with her hands and looked through them; imaging the scene hanging in a museum. It was breath-taking.

She giggled, tugging up the hem of her soaking wet linen skirt. She had been chasing the retreating tide back to the sea; bending low to watch the tiny fish that braved the shallow waters to snack on the burrowing sand fleas that appeared as the waves fled the shore.

It was an amazing feeling; being in a place so pure and free. As she stared out across the ocean it seemed endless; a never-ending story.

Turning her attention to the left, just in the distance Elle saw the twinkling glow of the busy boardwalk. The lights flickered like happy stars, and the smell of carnival food licked at her nostrils like the sweetest kind of invitation.

The witch breathed deeply; taking in as much of the salty ocean air as she could. The taste of an on coming thunderstorm was rich like chocolate on her tongue. Elle gazed into the darkening heavens just in time to see a streak of white split the sky. How wonderful. They would be blessed with a shower soon.

Gathering up her worn Birkenstock sandals in one hand, Elle lifted up her skirt and walked across the damp sand to the boardwalk. A corndog sounded just about right.

Elle was fairly skipping towards it when a noise caught her attention. It was an odd scuffling sound coming from the dense dunes.
Her breath caught in her throat when a snarl escaped the thick brush, quickly followed by a massive black wolf with truly beautiful golden eyes.

She gasped at the amazing sight; a hand lifting to her slightly parted lips and then dropping down to the messenger bag slung across her torso.
Her nimble fingers found the smooth planes of a small vial within and anticipation sprung in her chest. She hoped it was the sleeping potion she had spelled ‘just in case’. If this wasn’t the perfect ‘case’, she didn’t know what was.

Elle took a slow, cautious step to the side, hoping the movement would spook the creature; but not such luck. It mirrored her actions with a cunning gleam in its amber eyes. The witch was struck by something in its gaze then; a certain comprehension in the wolf’s expression. It bared its sharp white teeth an almost mocking glare when the witch’s stare drifted to a pair of torn jeans from whence the beast had come.
This was no regular wolf; it was a Loup Garoux. Elle was fairly certain of this when she returned her attention to his achingly beautiful ochre eyes.

“Please be good Mr. Wolf.” The witch chided in a sing-song voice; her hand tightening around the vial in her bag. “If you want a corndog, all you have to do is ask...”

The werewolf growled and Elle’s breath hitched again. The animal took a step to her and she stumbled back; a scowl crossing her usually blithe face as she pulled the purple potion from the purse.

“Baaaaaaad Dog.” Elle waved to the creature hoping it would just go away. “Shooo!”

Oh, if this wasn’t that sleeping potion, she was in trouble. The Big Bad Wolf looked hungry, and not for a corndog.

[Deleted]

Red. It was all Isaac could see. Only he wasn't Isaac anymore. He wasn't even human. Something had happened to cause his body to react... to cause him to change into the creature that he dreaded and feared. The change had been quick, like he was exploding from the inside. His body had burned all over as his bones contorted and shifted. His gums bled as sharp, canine teeth pierced through them in their attempts to be seen. His vision had blurred until they regained focus and became crystal clear. And now he was looking through the eyes of a wolf, and all he could see was red.

The blonde human girl was acting cautious toward him, and there was a soothing sound coming from her mouth. But it wasn't enough to calm the beast within. She had done nothing to anger him... nothing to deserve this. He didn't need a reason... there was no logic involved. All he knew was blood and carnage. And when she started reaching into her bag, he knew that he had to move fast. Isaac, the black wolf, crouched down low, a feral snarl erupting from his his throat, his lips curled up to reveal razor sharp teeth. He narrowed his golden brown eyes and lunged for her, intending fully to kill before she could do anything to hurt him first.

[abigail]

Elle squeaked loudly as the creature lunged at her, and she lost her balance, stumbling backward and landing heavily on her tailbone in the sand. If it had been normal earth, she would have been doomed; unable to move. Thank heavens the movable sand allowed her to scramble out from under him, so the witch rolled onto her belly, dragging herself quickly out of the path of his snapping jaws. One sharp claw caught her shoulder, and a shriek was torn from her throat as liquid crimson sprang from the serrated slash.

Desperation took hold as Elle kicked up at the creature’s muzzle and then scurried on her hands and knees across the shore. She was heading to the lights and noise of the boardwalk, though it seemed miles away...

The messenger bag strapped across her chest hung down to her knees, bumping against them with her movements; entangling her legs in the long straps. She tried to pull herself up to stand, but tripped; landing face first in the damp grit beneath her.

With a yelp, she pushed herself up, scared to look back at her attacker, but too terrified not to. Elle turned her face backwards; her turquoise gaze meeting his fierce golden stare.
The witch gasped, turning back around; the twinkle of glass catching her eye. A relieved sigh parted her lips as she dove for potion bottle; the thick pale pink liquid would be her saving grace.

She spun, tossing it as hard as she could at the wolf, and the thin glass shattered against his pelt, staining the tips of his fur a nice rosy color.
Holding her breath she watched as the liquid dripped off in pink teardrops, and then, suddenly, where the liquid covered his fur, green vines begun to sprout, entwining itself into his coat. The vines grew rapidly; delicate finger reaching out and growing into arms; dozens of them. From the vines sprang up tiny buds; each little blossom a promise of new life. The buds opened, and from them, the blooms of vibrant yellow tulips...

Elle’s eyes widened, her head tilting to the side just a little. “Huh...I’ve been searching for that potion for ages...” came an absent, innocent voice.

[ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED]

It had been one of those days for Dean. Long, boring and uneventful. Ordinarily he should have been happy to enjoy a little downtime between hunts, but that always left him with too much time to think and nothing to distract himself from the endless sounds of screaming and torment in his head. What made it worse was Sam had nothing to distract himself either so he would end up doing that frowny, concerned face whenever he caught Dean lost in absent thoughts about Hell. That only resulted in Dean feeling uncomfortable and exposed, which in turn put him on the defensive, which in turn got Sam frustrated, which in turn led to an arguement which had resulted in Dean storming out of the motel announcing he was 'going out' with no idea where out would lead him. Everytime he did it, he always heard the sad, apologetic tone of his brother calling his name just as the door slammed shut. But Sam never came after him and Dean suspected he knew that he just needed to vent and needed the space. Either that or he was just fed up of trying to get through to Dean. He couldn't hold that against the kid, wasn't his fault his older brother wasn't coping very well with being back. There was no manual to help you deal with your post traumatic stress overloaded brother after his stint in the pit. God love him, he was doing his best but sometimes Dean just needed to get away.

Tonight he'd ended up wandering down to the boardwalk by the beach, probably lured subconsciously by the smell of fried food and sweet cotton candy. Earlier he hadn't been hungry, another reason why Sam had given him the worried frown, but now he was positively starving. So he got himself a foot long hotdog (with extra onions of course) and had milled around the amusements seeing if anything could grab his attention. It wasn't long before the thriving mass of people became overwhelming though, the screams of laughter from the thrill seekers on the rollercoaster cutting through him like a knife and the suffocating atmosphere drove him towards the fresher, open air of the sandy beach instead.

Away from the noises of the rides and people he could clear his mind and let the refreshing sea breeze waft over him like a cleansing embrace. The soft, rythmic sounds of the ocean lapping against the shoreline eased his breathing, helped to calm down the racing in his heart and soothe out the tension in his chest. He'd missed the sea when he was in Hell. How cool and revitalising it felt to be near it. He'd never tell Sam that though, his claim to like long walks on the beach one which he always made out to be more of a joke than anything else, but yeah, this chick flick moment was just what he needed. A little peace in his otherwise stressful existence. No-one trying to kill him, or chase him or asking him to do the Lord's work for them. Nope, just Dean and his half eaten hotdog. With extra onions.

Up ahead something caught his eye. A woman it seemed, though he couldn't see her very well from this distance. She looked like she was skipping along without a care in the world until she suddenly stopped and started waving at the dunes in front of her. Dean's first thought was where was the nearest mental ward and how exactly had she escaped, but the nearer he got to her, the more he understood why she was waving and backing away. A very large black animal came stalking out of the brush and Dean immediately recognised the predatory movements even though he wasn't sure what exactly it was. Could have been just a very big black wolf though knowing his luck, he'd just stumbled over something much, much worse.

He was already sprinting towards the blonde woman even as the thing lunged for her, his hotdog tossed to one side without thought, his hand reaching back for the gun tucked into the back of his jeans, hidden by his jacket. He glanced down to check what bullets were in the clip as he ran, kicking sand up in his wake, cursing to himself that he only had regular bullets when silver ones might have been more use. When he looked up again the beast was almost on top of the woman but something weird seemed to be happening and he had the distinct feeling he'd just missed something important. He kept on running though, gun raised and aimed at the animal just waiting for the perfect shot to bring it down without pissing it off. He didn't need an angry wounded beast to deal with because that always made them far more viscious. He just needed to get one good clean kill shot in and that would be it. Hopefully.

[Deleted]

The wolf snapped at Elle, and his powerful jaws narrowly missed her as she just barely managed to roll out of the way on the sand. As it were, he did manage to slash a claw at her shoulder just before she moved out of range, and the rich aroma of her blood permeated the air before he tumbled forward in the sand, his momentum propelling him forward into a rough tumble now that his target was no longer there.

With a harsh growl, he scrambled to his feet, and turned on the girl, pausing briefly to meet her gaze as she, too, struggled to get to her feet. His lips were curled so fiercely back from his ferocious teeth that it almost seemed he was grinning at her... the horrible, nasty grin of a predator that was confident that he had his prey cornered. The girl looked frightened, but he didn't care. In fact, it only fueled his desire to kill her even more... to soak his fur in her blood and tear her flesh from her bones.

He lunged at her again, only this time it seemed she was prepared, as she pulled something from her bag and threw it at him with all her might. He yealped as the bottle crashed against his fur, shards of glass embedding themselves into the thick skin of his shoulder... an eye for an eye, he supposed. But the glass wasn't the problem. Vines began to sprout from nowhere, growing rapidly and entangling themselves around his legs, torso and muscle, causing him to lose his balance and fall over onto his side.

He thrashed wildly, trying to detangle himself, becoming panicked when one of them curled around his throat and started to tighten. Isaac's golden eyes bulged slightly as he struggled for breath, and darkness was starting to cloud his vision, the lack of oxygen making him feel dizzy and weak. He just barely managed to slash a claw through one of the vines, and as a result they weakened and loosened their suffocating grip on him enough that he was able to start ripping them away from his body. The oxygen rushed to his brain again as he got back to his feet, shaking his head to clear the fuzziness from his vision as he set his sights on the girl again. He didn't even notice the man who was fastly approaching as he tore off after her. She was going to pay for that.

[abigail]

Elle was very easily distracted. She stared absently as the vines covered the beast, marveling at how brilliant a hue the flowers were. A sudden muffled snarling from him brought her attention back to the here and now, and she covered her mouth with a thin hand, thinking that if only it had been the sleeping potion instead of the flowering, neither one of them would be in this mess right now.

She watched in horror as the beautiful animal struggled to untangle himself as they begun to constrict his airway; wanting to do something, to help him, but the sight of those vicious gleaming teeth held her back; frozen to the ground.
Despite the hunger and anger he had displayed, the witch knew he couldn’t help it. It was a result of the curse that tore through his veins; tainting his blood.

Even know, as the wide silver moon ducked behind the gossamer clouds, Elle could see the torment reflected in his intense amber eyes.
It wasn’t until the sound of heavy, hurried movement through the sand behind her did the whimsical witch realize her life was still in danger.

As the lycanthrope freed himself from the ropy vines and came after her, Elle twisted toward the approaching stranger; a man with his weapon at the ready. She grasped her long skirt in her hand and took off, moving as fast as she could to get away.

“Don’t kill him!” She wailed sadly as the creature quickly caught up to her, knocking her forcefully to the ground. Pinching her eyes closed as tightly as she could, the witch waited for the pain of his teeth sinking into her pliable skin.
Agony or death was inevitable, but all Elle could think of was the sleeping potion.

Ah Yes. She had tied the little vial of brew to the black cord that now hung from around her neck. Silly little witch.

[ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED]

Now that he was closer, Dean could see the eyes of the creature that seemed to have gotten tangled up in wild vines (wild vines on a beach? That was strange...) and every fibre of his being told him that this was no ordinary wolf. But then it was no hellhound either. In fact Dean couldn't be sure what exactly it was, he'd never seen anything like it before. Too big to be a regular wolf or dog, but it seemed too corporeal to be a spectral black dog and while it's fierce and predatory gaze was most definately dangerous, it didn't hold the same kind of evil in it that Dean had experienced from hell's pets. Of course, that wasn't going to stop him from shooting the bastard animal, not when it was trying to savage the woman in front of him.

Quit moving around you son of a bitch.....

If he stopped running then he would have had a better chance of hitting where he was aiming, namely the creature's heart, because no matter what it was, pretty much everything stopped moving when you shot it in the heart. But pausing to aim carefully might mean he wouldn't get to the woman in time whilst shooting on the run would lessen the acuracy, so in the split second it took Dean to decide which option was best, he'd slowed down just a little but aimed and fired at the wolf's upper torso as acurately as he could whle still moving. It was only after squeezing the trigger did it register that the blonde he was trying to save had just shouted for him not to shoot.

You gotta be kidding me....?

He didn't wait to see where his bullet had hit, confident he'd done some damage at least as he skidded baseball player style in the sand to where the woman was face down in the sand.

"Get up, run!" He ordered, pulling her away from the wolf by her upper arm so she could escape while Dean dealt with it.

[Deleted]

The gunshot rang deafeningly in his ears. It was loud, like thunder, and Isaac didn't even register what it was until he felt its painful sting. He had managed to catch the girl, having lunged at her and pinned her down onto the dry sand, mere milliseconds away from ripping her face from her skull with his teeth when it happened. The bullet had hit him in the shoulder, and the wolf yealped loudly in pain, falling over onto his side and, in effect, releasing the blonde.

For a moment, the wolf could only lie there, his body rising and falling with every ragged gasp of pained breath. He could hear a voice nearby... a new voice... a male voice. Isaac lifted his head and looked around, spying the man hovering over the blonde, the gun in his hand, and knew that he needed to act or else the human would come after him again. With great, pained effort, he pushed himself up on all fours again. His right shoulder was damaged badly, blood matting his fur and bits of muscle tissue hanging loosely from the wound, so he had to balance his weight on his other three legs. But if the human thought that he was going to roll over and die without a fight, he had news for him.

The black wolf bared his teeth in a ferocious snarl, golden yellow eyes narrowed in slits at the man as he started to stalk toward him with great purpose... kill or be killed.

[abigail]

Elle’s eyes were closed so tightly she was sure the salty ocean air would fuse them together. The thought of never seeing the brilliant colors of the sky or the green of the trees filled her with such a profound sadness, for a moment, she did not even struggle beneath the beautifully horrifying lycanthrope.

It was the sound of thunder too close to her ear that shook her alert. Elle’s eyes flew open as she realized the sound wasn’t thunder at all, but a gun shot that had shaken her, and it was with both relief and dread that she watched the creature fall over onto its side as crimson stained the light brown sand.

Suddenly a rough hand was pulling her up onto her feet, and the little witch gazed up into the gleaming emerald eyes of her rescuer. He was yelling for her to run, but she didn’t have a moment to protest before the werewolf was back up on all fours; glinting fangs bared at the green-eyed man.
She wouldn’t have run anyway. Be it bravery or lack of common sense, it wasn’t in Elle’s nature to run. The loup garoux was as ferocious as it was beautiful, but there was a man within him; probably just as frightened as she.

“He doesn’t mean it!” Elle screamed, pleading with the stranger with the gun. “He’s been cursed into this form!”
Her blue-green gaze fell on the wolf; eyes stuck on the meaty wound that colored the fur of his muscular shoulder with vibrant red. Forgotten was the stinging in her own shoulder; her heart ached for his pain, and the scar that might mar his human flesh if he survived the night.

The large black wolf prowled forward once more just as the human male did the same. Lunging forward, Elle grabbed onto the arm of the man the held the weapon, her other shaking hand going to the black cord around her neck. She yanked forcefully so that the necklace came away into her palm.

The little glass potion bottle hanging from the cord was filled with a bright yellow liquid that swirled with flecks of gold. She tossed it as hard as she could at the beast, and the glass exploded into a bunch of glittering shards about his muzzle and eyes. The witch’s voice was but a whisper as she recited the words which would evoke the spell.

It should only take a moment for the potion to put the beast into a deep lumber. Elle inhaled sharply; her fingers still gripped tightly around the shooter’s bicep. If it didn’t work fast enough it was likely he’d want to shoot her too. Heck. He probably did anyway...

[ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED]

It's never just easy, is it.....

Sure, he'd shot the animal and had wounded it long enough to get the woman clear but when you're a Winchester, those little breaks you get in times of trouble tend to just be moments to catch your breath before the shit really hits the fan. And right now it wasn't looking good at all because he didn't simply have a wild beast to contend with, now it was a wounded wild animal and in his expereince, those were far more deadly when threatened.

The wolf growled dangerously at him, fierce eyes locked onto his own, and Dean found himself curling his top lip back in a challenging snarl in return. Face to face with such a ferocious creature seemed to bring out the predatory instinct in him and rather than backing away, he stepped a little closer with his gun arm raised, shielding the woman from harm with his own body.

Shoot first, ask questions later. His father had driven that lesson home to him from an early age and now he was putting it into practice. He wasn't running now although there was an urgency to the situation, but aiming was easier when standing still. One shot, to the head and it would all be over for the wolf.

Relax, control your breathing, take aim and squeeze the trigger, don't jerk it. Seven year old Dean was practicing on tin cans in the woods for times like these. In the space of half a second he'd done all of the above but just as his finger curled around the trigger, the woman he was trying to protect rushed at him, knocking his arm and sending the shot wide. He frowned in annoyance, confused even more when she threw a small vial of something at the animal and then started whispering random gibberish he couldn't quite make out.

"What the hell are you doing?!" He exclaimed, shaking off her grip and stepping away. His wary gaze flicked between the two of them now, the wolf and the woman. She'd said 'he was cursed into this form' but that just didn't make any sense to Dean. Was she reffering to the wolf? Because this would have been a first for Dean if that was the case.

"Who's been cursed? What?!?"

[Deleted]

Pain blurred the wolf's vision. The two humans were just a smudge of motion in front of him, all because of that bullet that was now lodged in his shoulder, and that was exactly why he was going to kill them both. Deep down, the human side of Isaac was struggling to the surface, trying to overcome this curse, but had absolutely no idea how to climb out from the pit of his subconscious. So he still relied on instinct, and he leapt on powerful legs toward the man just as the woman threw something at him.

The air filled with a yellowish smoke, and it stung his eyes and his nostrils, causing him to lose his balance and come up short of his attack. He couldn't help but breathe it in, and it made his stomach churn, and for a moment all he could do was whine miserably and stagger about dizzily, until the darkness overtook him and he fell onto his side unconscious.

Now that he had fallen asleep, the adrenaline seemed to drain from the wolf's body with one heavy sigh, and then it shifted easily into the form of a man with a gaping bullet wound in his shoulder.

[abigail]

Elle’s turquoise eyes were wild with worry; trained on the beast that now tipped clumsily to one side; no doubt feeling the effects of her sleepy time potion.
“He’s been cursed!” She shrieked at the hunter, waving towards the loopy wolf. She put her hands on her cheeks; madly shaking her head back and forth as if this had all been her fault. “By the moon, by the bite of another cursed, by a mad witch, who really knows the reason WHY someone would be cursed, all I know is that there is a human inside that big animal!”

And then the beast dropped to the ground and immediately Elle was pushing past the hunter and dashing toward it. For as long as her grandmother had trained her in the art of spell making, Elle was actually quite clumsily at it, for she had a habit of experimenting with a little bit of this and a pinch of that to find out what different combinations would create. For all she knew the concoction would do the lovely creature in and the witch would NEVER be able to live that down.

Dropping to her knees in the sand Elle pressed two fingers into the wolf’s pelt to feel for a pulse. Her hands were shaking violently and her breath held in as if the very act might make time stop. If only she were that magical...

Thank the heavens the beast was still breathing. That was a very good sign.
Her breath escaped in a loud exhalation when right before her eyes the black wolf transformed into a man; and a very naked man at that.
Elle tried not to look at the man’s private bits, but of course her curious gaze wandered there, and suddenly her cheeks were red and flaming.

“Oh my!” Elle blurted and twisted her head away, looking up into the face of the other male.

By now the curious birds, (which previously had been running in and out of the surf to nibble fish and sand fleas), had come over to investigate; one landing right on top of the witch’s white blonde head. She tried to shoo it with a wave of her hand, but it merely flew up a little and then came right back down on the convenient perch.

“There’s a hole in him!” Elle blubbered to the other man, pointing uselessly at the gaping wound in his shoulder. “I don’t think I have a potion for that!” She added, clinging to the messenger bag that was still draped across her chest.
“What should we do?” The witch pleaded with the stranger; inwardly wishing she had gone ahead to the boardwalk before her walk on the beach.

Silly, trouble-making witch. Now there was one angry man with a gun and one naked one asleep and bleeding in the sand. How did she manage to get herself into these predicaments?

The bird on her head squawked a little and then nibbled on her hair. The whole scene looked absolutely ridiculous.

[ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED]

I really need to start laying off the whiskey, this is freakin' nuts....

For a hunter who's knowledge of so called 'werewolves' being less like they're portrayed in the movies than the hairy beast in front of him, this was quite a surreal moment for Dean. Ordinarily, if a person had turned feral for one reason or another, it was purely a case that they got stronger, their teeth grew sharper and their nails became more like claws. Oh, and they developed a taste for human flesh, but other than that, they still maintained the general appearance of a person.

However, it wasn't too much of a stretch once the woman pointed out that he'd somehow been cursed (a fact he still wasn't sure how she knew and that he'd enquire about later), to believe that the now transforming thing bleeding into the sand was a human being. Especially when the fur receded and the profile of a man's face replaced it.

"Ho-ly shit." He mouthed, eyes wide in shock and disbelief, unsure whether or not he should finish the guy off with another bullet rather than helping him. If he was going to change back again, be it today, tomorrow or next full moon, he was a danger to the public and needed to be stopped. But on the other hand, changing was something he probably couldn't control, if he was cursed then surely Dean should help him break that curse rather than jumping the gun, as it were. This wasn't like when he and Sam had looked for a cure for Madison, the woman Sam had fallen for in a big way who sadly turned out to be infected by a werewolf. Curses could be broken and if anyone knew that, it was Dean.

“There’s a hole in him!”

"Yeah, that's usually what happens when you shoot someone." Dean commented dryly, coming closer to see for himself how bad it was but not holstering his gun just yet.

“I don’t think I have a potion for that!”

I thought so. Witch.....

Dean ignored that conclusion for the time being since this woman didn't appear to be immediately threatening. He supposed that anyone who attracted random small birds probably wasn't a viscious predator but by no means was he going to let his guard down around her until he'd gotten her story. First things first though, there was the small matter of a naked body on a beach to deal with.

“What should we do?”

Grudgingly, he finally tucked his pistol into the back of his jeans where he'd gotten it from and scanned the area for signs of witnesses. Lucikly, they seemed to be far enough away from the crowds on the boardwalk for his gunshot to have gone un-noticed but the sooner they moved, the less likely it was the cops were going to show up.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." He grumbled under his breath, hauling the unconscious naked guy up into a sitting position so he could lever him up, over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. Holding onto his legs and letting the rest of his body hang limply down his back, Dean pushed himself up with a strained grunt of effort, cursing silently when he realised that a certian part of the guy's anatomy was now pressed against his favourite leather jacket.

I'm disinfecting this as soon as possible....

"You got something to cover him up?" Dean asked her, trying his hardest not to look to the side where the guy's rear end was almost at eye level.

"We're gonna take him to my motel room a couple of blocks away and hope that no-one sees us. Then you're gonna start from the beginning and tell me just what the hell I wandered into here while I make sure this guy doesn't bleed to death. Okay?"

You make it sound so simple...

[Deleted]

(Erm this would be a really... really bad time to have Isaac wake up so why don't you two carry on for a few posts around me for now?)