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» [OS] The Boy who Runs with Wolves
Posted: Dec 17 2013, 04:13 AM
WEREWOLF (LOUP GAROU)
Stiles is Offline
Stiles was kicking his own ass for not bringing a stupid jacket. It was freezing weather and he decided to stand out in the middle of the damn woods in just jeans and a long sleeved shirt, what kind of idiot did that? He mental yelled at himself as he stood there arms wrapped around himself, standing still except for the few shivers that sometimes ran through his body. He should be on the lookout he should be on watch. It was the night of the full moon you can never know what would happen.
Yet as he stood there in the in the middle of the woods he closed his eyes. His heart pounding wildly in his chest, as he tried to breathe steadily. He wasn’t too sure that the shaking was all from the cold. He knew what was about to happen, he just didn’t know when or how it would happen.
He had made sure they all knew that part was critical. He couldn’t know anything that was going to happen from this point on. Not even where the rest of the pack was. If he was called in to recount the night, if they made this a big deal with the new “king”, he didn’t want there to be any doubt that he was telling the truth. It was the only way that they would get out of this alive, well the only way he would at least.
He had been planning this for weeks, down to every last detail that he possible could. He had called pack meetings, he had arranged help, and he had even prepared what to do afterwards. There was no reason for him to feel shaky, no reason to be nervous. But he could still feel that twisting in his stomach, that almost sick feeling that he could feel choking him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want this, no he wanted it, needed it. But he was scared what would happen once this was completed. Scared about if the consequences outweigh the reward.
But he couldn’t let that distract him. He had to calm down to some degree or the other wolves in the area would be able to hear him in no problem. He focused on what he could hear, the wind blowing, the leaves rustling, his own breathing in his ears.
And then he heard the crack behind him. The snapping of a twig, that he knew he shouldn’t of heard. And he knew it was Jackson, he knew that snap was a warning, a sort of sign for prepare yourself. Stiles tightened his fists into balls and clenched his teeth waiting. Till he felt the sharp sensation of claws running down his back and over his side.
The funny thing about sharp things is that you don’t actually feel them until after they leave your skin. Stiles didn’t actually feel his best friend’s claws digging into him till he fell to the ground clutching at his side. The pain, was like nothing he had ever had before. He had been kidnapped, beat up, paralyzed, and almost run over, but nothing compared to this. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy. It had to be realistic, had to be real to some point. Which was why they had planned this, planned the pain, planned for stiles to be on the brink of death when Derek bit him.
But that didn’t really help now that Stiles laid on his stomach, blood starting to bleed out of the wounds till his vision became blurry. He wasn’t cold anymore, and he couldn’t feel the pain. If this was how it was to die all the time, why didn’t everyone do it more often? Right, there was the part where you die. Stiles mind that was always on a constant strand of thoughts were slowing. He tried to keep his eyes open so he could see, but it was getting harder and harder to keep them open. He was glad they were waiting like he had told them too though. It made it all easier when he had to retell the tale.
And then when Stiles could feel himself start to slip away he felt another sharp pain in his side, his eyes opening wide once more in pain as he stared into two bright shining red eyes. He knew it would be soon that it would start, he only hoped that he could hold on till then. He wouldn’t shift till the moon was at the exact moment, the fullness of it would overtake him. He didn’t know what would happen, what he would do, but he trusted his pack to protect others, to protect him.
And then he felt the first pulls of his muscles. It felt as if his skin was being pulled into pieces, as if his bones were cracking open and reforming. All the joints in his body popping and tearing to make new ones. His body rearranging itself into something new , something more wolf then human.
Stiles would like to look back on that moment of when he was brave, when he bit his lip and let the pain pass though him. But the truth was he did nothing. All he knew was that one moment he was in shock from the bite , and then suddenly his screams filled the woods around him. They sounded so loud in his years, as if blasted by a megaphone. His world was spinning , a world of pain and sounds and smelled. And it wasn’t fast like the movies like to say that it was. No it was slow , as if his body needed to make sure he was punished enough for this.
And then his screams couldn’t be formed anymore, and instead turned into growls and pants as he laid there trying to breathe. His tired eyes looking around at the faces of the wolves that stood above him. Their eyes glowing down into his own. Hazel, blue and bright blood red. Pack. His pack.
He didn’t remember much after that point, his last real memory was the one of his painful change back , and his body being picked up by his best friend. The world around him fading fast as he felt the exhaustion pulling him downwards, until only darkness filled his senses .
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