Path of the Scarred

Vesper · 12-22-2011, 10:04 PM

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There was weak laughter from the she-wolf slumped against her, and Vesper flicked her ears toward her half-conscious friend before they swiveled forward. A figure was approaching, hauling something wooden behind it, and when it came closer, the coywolf could see it was a heavily scarred and pregnant grey wolf. Her ears came down close to her slender skull, bristling instinctively though it was more out of unease than aggression, and the onslaught of quiet words and instructions made her exhausted mind whirl.

“I can’t—shift—tired—not used to it,” Vesper murmured, the words slurring from her tongue. Had she known the word for changed luperci, she might have offered that as further explanation. The stress of the event made it hard enough for her to think of shifting shape, and she didn’t move with the ease of one born with the virus and transforming at a young age. She still nudged Kiara lightly, attempting to herd her toward the sleigh to make the pregnant woman’s job easier, tongue rasping out against the white shoulders even as the non-luperci tended to the confused and worried puppy. “Kiara was—” she began, trying to think back to what had happened—though it was a red blur.

It was then that something large and bristling, red white black, barged in and fussed over Kiara. The small coyote hybrid stepped back, overwhelmed by the onslaught of unfamiliar scents, but then sharp eyes fixed on her and she found herself facing off against the large thing. Vesper immediately puffed her fur out and bristled as well, her own secui form not quite as large as the other and definitely not as hairy. She bared her teeth defensively.

“If I weren’t here, she’d be dead,” Vesper snapped, saliva flying. However, she had no further need to speak, as the collie transformed and scooped up the arctic wolf and set her down on the sleigh. Coming to stand close to the non-luperci, yet not daring to touch her again in the presence of her pack mates, she let out a low whine of reassurance to Kiara then turned her cold blue eyes to the glaring collie mutt. Her tail lashed, and she tried to explain as hastily as she could.

“I wasn’t—wasn’t there at the beginning. Some—some dog bitch had her and was—” Her voice faltered at the image of the blade embedding itself into the curled up and trembling girl. “Knife—cutting—I managed to fight her off. She’s not dead, the bitch isn’t dead.” She glanced over her shoulder, though she knew that the blonde woman could have caught up with them if she’d wanted to. The thought of others suffering the same fate as Kiara caused her to shudder angrily, and a second later her eyes widened.

“Shit—” Vesper moved close to the sleigh again, nosing the snow wolf. “Kiara.” She probably wasn’t able to hear, but she spoke quickly, frantically. “Kiara, did her blood get on you? Did you get her blood in your cuts?” she demanded, remembering her first painful shift. There was nothing she could do about herself, but she wanted Kiara to live four-legged forever—a normal wolf, a free spirit, one who could choose to change who she was only if she wanted to. The possibility that Kiara could have been infected terrified her.

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