It was all becoming distressingly familiar. The hunger, the wind in his fur and earth under his paws, the hunt, the taste of blood on\u00a0 his tongue… still lingering when he woke, well away from the village, with only the grass against his skin. It had happened three nights around each full moon; this was the third month, now, the seventh time he’d woken in the wilds.<\/p>\n
Except that this time, when he came to, there was a rough blanket thrown over him and a hand on his cheek.<\/p>\n
\u201cNew to the blood?\u201d she asked, her voice soft and gentle. She was a bit rougher of features than most women he’d seen, and rather than being elaborately styled, her brown hair was pulled back into a simple tail. She wore leathers like a trapper, and the serviceable pack over her shoulders did little to dismiss that image.<\/p>\n
He blinked up at her. \u201cWhat…?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI saw you come here,\u201d she explained, \u201cand I saw you change. Don’t fear; I won’t harm you for it. I’ve the blood in me myself; it’s why I’ve made my home out here these years. Here, take my cloak, and wrap your feet in these cloths; I’ve a cabin nearby, and should have something that’ll fit you.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was strange \u2013 even surreal. Always before he’d been alone, and had to sneak back home in the brightening dawn to fetch some new clothing. He’d dared not tell anyone where he went on the nights of the full moon, and had counted himself amazingly lucky that he’d not been caught already, put down as a monster. And now… this. A quite normal-looking working woman, albeit one who looked like she did a man’s work rather than a woman’s, saying she shared his curse and offering… what?<\/p>\n
But what else could he do? He followed.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow are you so… prepared?\u201d he couldn’t help but ask. After all, he’d been naked until she’d put that blanket over him. The first time the change had taken him, his clothes had been ruined; since then he’d had to just be sure to be home and unclad before the sun set.<\/p>\n
\u201cIn four years, I’ve learned some control over the changes,\u201d she replied, pushing a branch aside. \u201cIt’s easier if you don’t fight it. Resist, and you’ll stay changed until exhaustion takes you, just before dawn; indulge, and you’ll be lucid \u2013 and refreshed \u2013 perhaps well before midnight.<\/p>\n
\u201cIndulge?\u201d he repeated, and shivered. \u201cBut… but how can I…\u201d He thought of the urges that had welled up in him, two turns of the moon back, and how he’d felt when he’d glimpsed his fellow villagers. The hunger. He’d barely had enough willpower to turn his attention to the forest instead. Even then, though \u2013 to fall upon some poor animal, to gorge himself on blood and raw flesh… \u201cBut it’s monstrous!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs it? Is every animal that takes prey, from bears and tigers through wolves and hawks, down to the least weasel, a monster, then?\u201d<\/p>\n He bit his lip.<\/p>\n \u201cIt’s a return to older times,\u201d she told him, reaching over to rest a hand on his shoulder. \u201cDon’t push it away, or you’ll be refusing part of Nature. Part of your<\/em> nature, now. Run with me tonight, and I’ll show you. We’ll hunt, we’ll eat, and then we’ll have the rest of the night to savour the strength and speed with which we’ve been blessed.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBlessed?\u201d he repeated.<\/p>\n The woman nodded. \u201cBlessed.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It was all becoming distressingly familiar. The hunger, the wind in his fur and earth under his paws, the hunt, the taste of blood on\u00a0 his tongue… still lingering when he woke, well away from the village, with only the grass against his skin. It had happened three nights around each full moon; this was […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[25],"tags":[84],"class_list":["post-330","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-one-shot","tag-flash"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/330","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=330"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/330\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=330"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=330"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=330"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}