The Dusk Comes

These strange new lands carried with them the oddest of scents.
Night had wandered alone for many moons now, despite the ever-looming presence of other wolves all about him, at every waking moment. The brief encounters that he'd shared with the likes of Blaze, Maylin, Veita, Blade, were all of benefit to his aching soul which longed for company, but he'd known no company like that of the ones he'd left behind.
Here, shrouded beneath the drooping fingers of the scraggly willow trees, the frail wolf wandered, his eyes to the dewy ground as he sang, over and over again, a silent lament within his weary mind. The leaves stroked his dark pelt as he skulked. It would've perhaps been soothing, if the cold chill left by the tiny droplets left on his back and neck were not so unwelcome.
To put it frankly, -Night was a sorry sight, and Jesus, did he look a mess, feeling sorry for himself like this. He would usually shake it off, and go back to his usual, perverse, brazen self, looking for trouble in a land he did not know.
But maybe it was the blue atmosphere that clung to his ankles and dragged him down like gravity... or maybe it was the full moon rising through the blazing twilight, which he caught for a brief second. A jolt pulled at his gut as he straightened up. He could smell it almost immediately.

A whole moon was rising to the east, its pure white glow dominating the blazing dusky sky. Valkoine had just returned to the woods from her latest visit to the city. It would be her last visit for a while. Enrobed in a silken, white dress, which accentuated her slender physique, she had situated herself at the foot of a spindling willow, the damp of the undergrowth soaking her clothes and causing her bare toes to wrinkle like raisins. She loved to listen to the faint creaking of the trees here; it was like listening to her grandmother, creak and caw on and on about better days.
The last amber rays which escaped the pull of the setting sun leaked out over the horizon, dappling the light through the leaves above, and touching her worn face, filling it with a healthy glow. Valkoine sipped on the glass of fresh blood that she'd harvested from a young girl in town. She felt the hot, sweet elixir dribble down her dry throat, filling it up with warmth and restoring her to life once more. The woman chuckled as her sharpened nails, plated in gold tapped against the glass.
But Valkoine knew what a full moon meant. As she thought about it, her wry smile wilted away into a grimace which dampened her expression, ruining her features. She bit her lip. As soon as the sunlight had drained the color from these skies, she thought, as soon as that happened... it'd all begin again.
Valkoine stood up, slowly, uncurling like the neck of a swan. She'd already discarded her golden skeandu, and her jewellery, in the thicket back there, and she slowly unzipped her dress, folding it up and leaving it alongside them. Goosebumps rose up from her naked flesh as she raised two arms to the darkening sky.
Hair and skin and bones and flesh fell away to reassemble themselves into a new form, then: the insignificant little frame of a pudgy, white pig, whose beady eyes gleamed a brilliant red. Valkoine huffed, catching a glance of the white moon through the leaves.

The smell of pig fell hard on Night's senses. A dirty, earthy scent mingled in his twitching nose with the unmistakable whiff of prey and meat and blood. This made his stomach churn and growl in feral wanting, and his weak muscles began to quiver as he fought his impulses. -For Night knew that pigs did not wear perfume. He knew that pigs did not stray here. He knew that this was too good to be true.
Skulking forward, he kept thinking that he could see it, somewhere in the foliage, but every shape proved to be his mind and his hunger fooling him. This was a dangerous mindset, and potentially, one which could get him killed. The lanky wolf pressed forwards, bushy tail straightened out away from his body, his ears constantly turning this way and that, chartreuse eyes on the look out. The moon mocked him; his newfound powers were heavy in his soul, waiting to be unleashed. That was when he caught the glint of a golden shape at the edge of the clearing, and, on further inspection, saw that it was a blade, alongside folded cloths which reeked of cheap perfume and... bacon.
"Show yourself." He snarled, admittedly, rather scared now.

He had stumbled across the trail a while back, and, it had now turned to a smell of pork. Blade had not eaten in a few days, he was rather hungry. He was following the scent through the shadows, knowing he was close. Suddenly, he saw the image of a pale white pig, the dinner he had been trailing after for the past hour or so. "Finally, come to papa." He slobbered, thinking of the taste of the flesh that he thought would soon be gracing his pallet.

Materializing in front of the pig, he grinned, full wolf form, "I finally found you, you succulent little pork chop." As he began moving towards what was, unknown to him, Valkoine.

The words caused Valkoine to light up a bit. Lowering her snout to the shrub and grass of the undergrowth, she huffed and shook her heavy head. The Shapeshifter reckoned she'd mess with this dribbling predator for a while, rolling onto her back and exposing rippling folds of succulent flesh. "Oh my, how attractive", she thought.
Of course, Valkoine had to be careful, already she knew that this was not the wolf she was looking for, but that didn't mean to say that she wouldn't have some fun in the mean time. At the same time, seeing the glint of white canines barely concealed within dripping, agape jaws, was enough of a reminder that she was not immortal, by any means.
Hopping up onto all fours again, she hurtled forwards, running straight through the legs of the wolf before her as she wheezed like the pathetic sow she'd made herself out to be.
Her voice was gravelly and hushed when she finally did speak.
"Baby boy," she mewed, "you long for my flesh in THIS form? Wait and see how you long for me when you see the real me..."

Night approached with great mindfulness of the oddity that surrounded him. He knew, just from wandering these lands a short while, that the supernatural thrived here, and rogue predators found clever ways to deceive and overthrow their prey. Surely, he was wrong, though, his empty stomach pleaded with his brain.
Stopping with a harsh jolt, Night's flourishing thoughts were silenced at the sight of the plump, white pig, stood opposite a very familiar wolf, -Blade. Night froze, barely concealed in the thin treeline.
He prayed that who or whatever had left the golden blade behind was not nearby.

"Oh, my, a talking pig. Never eaten one of those!" Blade said, laughing as the creature continued rushing towards him. In a flash, he had shifted from his wolf form to his lycanthropic appearance, spreading his arms to catch the hurling bundle of pork coming straight at him. His arms covered just over a ten foot span, tipped by razor sharp claws that specialized in rending flesh from the bodies of both opponents, and prey. Another scent caught at his nose, pulling just a small sliver of his attention away from the pig, and his eyes caught Noctic hiding, or so he thought, in the deep shadows.

As the pig entered into his range, he lunged at it, massive clawed paws sweeping down in what would be a lethal swipe if they connected properly.

Vermillion eyes watched, almost thirstily, as the wolf shifted forms, his muscles expanding and his frame contorting into a far more anthropomorphic figure, with a wolfen head, and heavy fists adorned with lethal claws. She giggled, under her breath and was just about to voice her amusement, but a swift blow shocked her into a piglet's squeal, shrill and rasping, as the blood was drawn from her. As the sharp tendrils sliced through her pink underbelly, the hot splash of blood upon her face shocked Valkoine into unconsciousness, and her body fell limp on the wet grass. She tried to muster the strength to roll away before her red eyes rolled over and she was ducked into a dark, unfamiliar world that was similar to sleep.
The first thing she heard as she began to come-to was her own heart beating, her eyelids lifted and she could see legs sprawled out before her, hands crossed over her chest and her naked flesh still cut-open. Lying, emaciated, in human-form, Valkoine opened her mouth and breathed one shaky breath.

Darting onto the scene, Night met Blade's side, breathing heavily, staring down with curious, intent eyes at the frail figure who laid limp at his paws. He lowered his nose and took in an almost gluttonous whiff of the scent which clung to the woman's neck: perfume, cheap perfume, just like he'd been able to smell on the discarded clothes that he'd stumbled across.
"I knew it." He uttered, his purring voice full of sobriety as he looked right to address the lycan that he recognised to be his acquaintance, Blade, with confusion in his eyes.
Night sighed, his gaze riveted now back on Valkoine's gaping wound, her aghast face.
"She left her weapon and clothes behind." He added, monotonously, "Never seen her here before... she isn't off to the best start." Swallowing, he slowly let his eyes slip back to fall upon Blade, the perpetrator. There was no venom or malice behind this look, nor behind what Night had had to say, but the smell of fresh blood appealed to him greatly, and it was beginning to tempt his predatory instincts. He would wait for the other to act before chancing anything.

As the woman shifted from her delicious looking pig form to her human form, his face went from that of a hungry predator, to having a look of, oh shit. Shifting from lycan to humanoid form in the same movement of dropping to his knees by her side, hand going under the cloak that materialized on his back. "You've got that right," he said to Noctis as the male finally made himself officially known. "We need to get her patched up to at least stop the bleeding. After that, we should get her to the hospital in town." Pulling out a leather bound box, he flipped it open, extracting a needle and thread. "The best I can really do is enough work to, hopefully, staunch the bleeding so she doesn't die right here."

Drawing on the shadows around him, he pressed darkness down into the wound, doing a quick search for the largest and most grievous of wounds that required attention first. Luckily, despite the heavy bleeding, no major organs had been damaged, and no arteries had been severed. One artery though, had been cut through about half of its diameter. Reaching into the wound, through the pulsing blood, Blade began to suture this wound shut. "You know, its times like this I am actually glad my father forced me to go through that military field medic course as a lad. Its helped me to save the lives of a few of my friends, as well as a few strangers who have needed help." He said, nodding towards the woman he worked on now as he spoke that last part. Using shadows, he cut the thread as he pulled it tight, closing the arterial wound off, and stopping most of the bleeding from there.

((I really hope that was acceptable, if not, please let me know, and I will change my post to suit))

Valkoine was white as a sheet. Moving in and out of consciousness, she was confused and cold. Heavy eyelids drooped to blind her, and she bit her lip, hard, clenching her fists and digging her sharp nails into the fleshy pink palms of her hands to keep from retching as she caught sight of her own innards.
As the darkness was plunged into her, for a brief moment, she jolted, and the warmth of the blackness seemed to reach her very soul. Blinking rapidly, she let out an exasperated sigh.
"What the fuck is this, really?" She uttered, as she let her heavy head roll over to the side, before gagging a little. The liquid which spilled from her thin, red lips was a vile mixture of frothy blood and foam. A droplet ran down her pale face and she strived to catch it with her sandpaper tongue, -knowing that this blood was the only thing keeping her young, the only essence which erased the thick, heavy lines from her sunken face. "I'm not so delicious now, huh, wolfboy?"
It was only as she looked back up at her audience that she saw the other wolf. Fur as black as night. A bloody smirk painted its way sideways across her blank expression. "Oh hey, Night." She hissed.
-Valkoine had not known the wolf's name; she'd simply given him this one based on the colouring of his dark pelt, dotted with white flecks, and had been bearing in mind the task which lurked in her lasting heart. She closed her eyes slowly, slowly, and strived with all the energy in her fading form, to muster enough strength to shift.

“Huh” Night uttered, in a rather dull response to what Blade had said about his father forcing him to train in that military field medic course; his gaze and attention were still tied to the woman, writhing and twitching fitfully at his feet. He huffed.  “Yeah… sometimes we push away or resent the things which, -in the end, prove to be the blades which arm us against our enemies…” It was an empty statement that rolled easily from his wet tongue. The small wolf shuddered at every sound and squelch the open wound made, but watched with a burning curiosity as his acquaintance manipulated the shadows about them into his own playthings. It had been many moons since Night had utilized his powers, and he too, befitting his name, was able to, -in a way, twist and tear the fabric of the darkness. But he was out of practice, and part of him actually resented these abilities; the motto that he’d always, always lived by was something along the lines of: ‘What proves true strength, is the rejection of your strengths; the reservation of your power until it is most necessary.’ –Which was why he’d instead turned to the use of words and emotional manipulation. It had served him well so far; overthrowing a tyrannous leader without having to draw a single drop of blood himself.
 But tonight was a full moon, and other powers were at work. Thinking of his dearly lost pack, how they’d forbidden the use of his powers, how they could appear now, as apparitions, at just the whisper of a few words, he felt a sinking in his chest. But he was wrenched back to reality, restored to his senses, as soon as he heard the woman’s voice address him by name.
 Straightening up, he looked at Blade, with stern confusion in his eyes.
 “My dear?...” Came the hushed reply.

((Your post seemed fine to me, Blade and it seems that, from the response, Valkoine doesn't have too much of a problem with it, either. I wouldn't worry ))

He chuckled at her words, "Oh,come now, once we get you cleaned up, get this blood taken care of, I am sure you will be the very image of beauty." He sutured a most of the remaining internal wounds and lacerations shut, making sure the rest of the wounds were taking care of themselves. Luckily, most of the remainder was just bruising. "Ok, that, should, do her up until we can either get her to a proper healer, or, if she has any sort of accelerated healing ability. So, its basically up to her at this point to fight." He slowly removed his hand, stitching the last exterior wound shut. Sitting back on his haunches, he took a swig from his flask, and drizzled a little over the wound, knowing it would sting a bit, but would help to clean the wound.

He noticed Noctis's words,'my dear,' and crooked an eyebrow as he looked at the male who remained in his wolf form. Come to think of it, Blade wasnt sure he had a human form, so, he thought he would ask. "So, Night, do you have any forms besides a wolf? Just thought that I have never seen you as anything else." Standing, he took Valkoine's limp form in her arms, "I was thinking to take her to the Rusty Tavern, put her up in a room, free of charge, let her heal up, rest. Then, when she is up and ready to go, maybe offer her a job there if she is willing. Care to travel with us?" He asked, as the shadows began to coalesce and swirl around him. He looked to Night again, seeing what his decision would be.

"Oh, hush, Wolf boy..." she chortled, "can't you see? I'm not the image of beauty; I'm beauty itself." Her narcissistic mannerisms were only half meant in jest, and she licked her chapped lips, breathing in through clenched teeth as she winced at the sting of the beverage that splashed over her stitched-up gashes.
 Valkoine listened to Blade as he asked the night wolf if he did or did not possess another form. She silently hoped to herself that the answer would be no; she had a horrible dread that perhaps only a pure-blood wolf would do for what she had in mind. She would listen carefully for a reply, still trying to see if she could shift into her own wolf form and escape, but she was too weak and the suggestion of a comfortable stay at the tavern was inticing to her cold and aching muscles.
  Valkoine twirled a strand of dark brown hair around her skeletal finger, a vulpine smile fell over her face as she played with Night's fur, teasingly, swallowing hard.
 Blade had scooped her up in his arms, and it was only when she felt his warmth against her white skin that she realised quite how cold she was.
"My clothes. Puppy face knows where they are." She waved an elegant hand in the direction of Noctis as she addressed him in this patronising way. Letting out a giggle, Valkoine traced the harsh line of Blade's collar bone with her sharpened, talon-nails.
((Apologies for such a late and short response, I've been so busy recently, things just came out of the blue.))

For the most part, the wolf kept his eyes on Valkoine as her fingers caressed and ruffled the fluffy white-black fur of his chest. He'd listened carefully as Blade described what he was doing, for the way he'd seemingly been able to treat the wound that the woman bore was remarkable to him, and it set alight his interests. There was still that odd scent about her, blood and perfume and all things sick and evil. Night didn't like the way her cold eyes met his, the way she tossed him around with her words, -the same way he'd done with others, on many occasions. That smile on her face was a vixen's smile, a coyote's smile, and something within his soul screamed  at him to watch this one, through all the irreverence and malediction which it also spat at her, on a silent glare.
  He was grateful that Blade had asked that question when he did, -the one about whether or not he possessed a human form; it allowed him to escape this strange person's icy gaze for a while, and drew his attention to something else. Night's eyes narrowed into a warm smile which made his cheeks swell as he turned to face his acquaintance. He thought, and he thought hard, rolling the simple question around in his brain like a child rolling a marble around in the palm of their hand. Of course, Night had never actually been seen in any form other than this by anyone, but the more he contemplated all of the facts, the more he came to wonder if he were in fact more than that. Rain was his mother, a scrawny, fragile thing with matted grey fur and a crooked temperament which had even caused her to draw blood from the throats of her own children. His expression fell to a stony look of sobriety now, as he remembered that, but also, he remembered that she had a human form, and so did Luke, his father. Luke was strong and brave in any form, yet kind and gentle too, a born leader.
  All of Night's brothers and sisters and even a few of his other pack-mates had had human forms, and other forms too. Specifically, he recalled a wolf named Sinco, -who actually possessed the ability to Shapeshift into a raven or sparrow as well, and Cent, who had boasted the talent to take on the shape of a bear or deer.
  In all honesty, the runt of the litter, Noctis Lucis Gelus, couldn't say that he'd ever tried to change forms; he liked the skin he walked around in enough that it'd never crossed his mind. But something told him that he could. Something strong and apprehensive, stirring deep down.
  "You know..." He began his reply with a slight tilt of his head, "I never found out. Never really cared for shifting... I sort of just rejected the whole concept. I mean, I grew up with shapeshifters, but when I dispersed from my birthpack and found the ones who took me in... my real family..." Night paused and chuckled, sidetracking, his eyes widened as he remarked, "-I came to be second in command of their fighters, would you believe, from being an omega I rose through the ranks and became alpha..." there was a sweet sentimentality in his voice, a shallow rasp to his words, much unlike the usual flow and silk of his normal speech. The wolf shook his head and let out a sigh. "Any way, they didn't allow the use of powers or shifting, so I never practiced. Though I'd sure like to find out... especially if I'm coming with you to take her to the Tavern... which I'd love, by the way. I just doubt the townsfolk would welcome the likes of old puppy-face here." Night laughed as he used the nickname Valkoine had attached to him in lighthearted banter. He stood as Blade did and grinned up at him. "I tell you, friend. If I have another form..." Night uttered, slowly, almost cautiously, "I hope women are as drawn to mine as yours." He beamed, as the woman cosied up to the man's chest.

He mostly successfully suppressed a shiver at the feel of her nail running over his collar bone, shaking his head, 'no, now is NOT the time for that." He berated himself. "Well my dear, then, when we get you back on your feet, if you are beauty incarnate as you say, I am sure you will have me coming after you." He laughed, responding to the woman's words. As he pulled the darkness closer around them, preparing to shift them to the Tavern, he spoke to Valkoine again, "We can get you new clothes for now, you needn't worry about it. And Night, the back of the house has no issue with talking wolves, or, puppies, showing up, they have been, properly educated, shall we say." He grinned those last words at the other male.

"Well, when you are quite typically head and shoulders above most others around, and made from, evidently, pure muscle, with well earned scars to match, women do tend to gravitate towards you if for no other reason than the pure reasons of being such a novel specimen among the local native inhabitants. Now, what do you say we go get Miss, uh, the lady here, into a nice comfortable bed so she can get some rest and recover?" He crooked his brow at Night questioningly.