Alex sat alone on the cold damp floor of his clearing. It was the full moon and he was early. He had got everything ready hours ago, his bag was safe but he had taken to remaining in his boxers - just because he was sick of sitting on twigs and strange objects. He sighed and tucked his hands into his lap. Just waiting always made him nervous. The lycanthrope bit down on his lip as he felt the wind whistle through the trees and around his already troubled mind. He knew, deep down, Gary wouldn't come. If he did he doubted the wolf would treat him the same was as it had done before. Last time it had been tricked! Lulled into a false sense of security and it would not happen again. And what of the other vampire? Cullen better not intervene this time or the wolf would rip him apart. Alex hoped they would all stay away tonight, they would be safer. He heard a call from a distant bird telling him the time was near. He got to his feet and brushed off the dirt. Biting his lip he waited for the moon to hang loosely in the sky. Mocking him for his discomfort and pain. As if the moon was the only thing keeping him from being a free boy. A free person. But he was free. All the pent up anger he had, all the hurt, loss and confusion would come out tonight. Tonight he would kill for pleasure.

The moon peeked out from behind the clouds and, with a scream of pain, the boy became the wolf. The dark bloody little wolf. The beast began panting slightly as it's muzzle re-formed and it's back broke only to be remade again. The pain was too much for it to even howl. But it would. The moment it was over the wolf sat back and howled it's sorry cry at the moon. Cursing everything for it's pain. Setting down he heard another cry from miles and miles away. One of it's kin. The wolf bared it's teeth as it tried to pick up a scent of some form of animal it could eat. A deer would be prefect. As if by magic one stumbled out of the thicket right into the wolf's path. Then the chase began, darting two and fro between the trees they ran. The moon still shining the wolf's path. Suddenly it pounced ripping the neck clean off the poor animal. There it feasted. Miles from school. Miles from people. Miles from anything.

But it was free.

The fox was also free. Not as free as the wolf, for inside she was still a human, but all the same she felt her liberty most strongly when she was darting through trees and thickets as a fiery blur of fur, claws and teeth. The howl of the wolf delighted her; she sat back on her hackles and howled too - a high pitched, pathetic imitation of the other predator far away. And then she heard another howl, closer still, one that sounded familiar for some reason - though why she couldn't say. She took no notice, and dived into the undergrowth once more, on the trail of some small rodent or other. The prickly leaves and thorns tried to tear at her orange coat, but she was too fast; they had no effect on her sleek, soft fur. On and on she bounded, right through until she came to the point where all the trees stopped, and there was the cliff face leading down in a vertical drop to the river which flowed away from the lake, sometimes in huge cascading waterfalls, and sometimes in a slow trickle, as if the water had been turned to honey. Tonight the white water was crashing past the rocks below, and the vixen stared in delight from her vantage point at the top of the cliff. The howl came again, and she lifted her head, replying once more.

Full, silver moon.

If she had been a girl, she would have been smiling. The vixen bounded back into the forest, zigzagging around trees and ducking under bushes, paying no attention to her direction, until she reached a clearing and as hit by the sudden, overwhelming scent of blood. Fresh blood, spilt on the leaves. And something else, something not right, something...beautiful in its incorrectness. The wolf feasted on the deer, and the fox - tiny in comparison - admired its black fur, rippling as its muscles moved and turning silver as it reflected the dappled moonlight. She was frightened, but more in awe of the creature before her. Obviously it was a werewolf. There was nothing else it could be. Alex? the fox thought, unable to take her eyes off the hypnotising animal. It was so...wild, so feral, and so dangerous, yet it deserved pity. No; not pity, empathy. It was crying out in pain when it howled. True, primal pain. But it was...happy. It was happy in agony. 'Sweet is pleasure after pain...' were the words that came to mind, though quite what they were a quote from she could not recall. It was so majestic, and so brutal, but so very, very wonderful. It would turn its glowing eyes upon her in a moment, no doubt, and see only a meal. But she had the feeling that - when it ate her - it would be saying sorry with every mouthful.

The blood trickled slowly and deservingly down the wolf's throat. The carcass was being cruelly devoured as if the wolf only had moments to eat. It had been a while since the wolf had been let out and the fresh meat swam warmly in it's jaw. It smelt everything around it, from the bugs crawling on the floor to the vixen standing not too far away. It paid no notice to the new arrival, not until the flesh it was ripping at had all but vanished inside it's hungry belly. It had heard the fox coming, from mils and miles away. If wolves could have smiled it would have done, the sent of the creature reminded the wolf of it's pain more than any scent in the forest. But it would never know why. Sitting back on it's hind legs it stuck out it's tongue and licked the most of the drying blood from it's nose. Suddenly it turned it's head to thew fox, teeth bared and the dark red blood dripping from it's mouth onto the forest floor. It's yellow eyes locked onto the fox's thin frame as it shakily got back onto it's feet.

The wolf was large, one of the largest in the forest, though if you had seen the boy behind you would never have guessed. It's dark black fur was short and yet still tangled with twigs and leaves, as if it had been living in the forest forever - not just a few hours. It's bright eyes were haunting and cold showing that the creature was a killer. It snarled showing it's row of sharp blood stained teeth. It didn't like visitors. The last time it had come out to play it had found itself in a battle with a vampire and a stupid witch shooting stunning spells at it. It growled slightly louder as the injured paw hit the floor, the pain was obvious. The wolf, though in pain, was indeed very pleased. Pleased that for the next night it would be able to hunt and to kill whatever it pleased. It started intently at the other creature, not trusting it in the slightest. Whatever it was, it wasn't a fox. It growled in frustration as though it wanted to attack but wasn't sure if it would be a good idea. Slowly it turned it's fully body to the small creature and padded up to it. It's ears lay flat against it's head in anger. What was it doing? Too scared to move? Or too stupid? The wolf snapped at the fox, it's teeth missing the small creature's body by inches. It's claws scratched into the earth in annoyance. Run you stupid thing, run it was thinking, as if the chase would make it's next meal much more enjoyable. It liked things that tried to fight back, not like the deer. The deer was just a light snack. Now the real fun began.

The fox remained still and tried not to whimper as the wolf approached. Yes, Rose felt sure that it was Alex now. Something in the animal reminded her of him, and seeing him this way rekindled some of the burning affection she had felt for him before. As vixen, surely she could be his companion on these moonlit nights; a secret pact of friendship, never to be told to anyone. A dream she would be unable to make real. His eyes were like yellow flames, burning bright amidst the dark, shadowy fur on his face, and she could only stare back into them with her own emerald green orbs. Unless her scent was familiar, he wouldn't know it was her. Perhaps she could befriend him without him knowing who the girl inside the vixen was. No; it was very unlikely indeed. A wolf is a wolf, and although they live in packs, they also live alone. A wolf would not attach itself to a fox.

As he approached, Rose noticed his slight limp and his injured paw. A pang of compassionate pain hit her heart, as if she was the one suffering from some old wound, cutting deep beneath her flesh. She lowered her head, in both reverence and shame as he snapped at her, and waited for him to finish his thoughts - just as if he was shouting at her, as she always expected of Alex. And once he was done, she took two shaky steps forward and leaned down, her small, pink tongue flicking over his hurt paw, with the vague hope that her sympathy would be healing to him. Very unlikely.

The wolf stumbled back in confusion. This was not what it was expecting. It cocked it's head to the side as if trying to figure out what the fox was doing. Something kept ringing in the back of it's head as if it knew the fox, but not as the fox. It growled again, but not in anger. It retracted it's paw from the fox's tongue, as if confirming that it didn't need help. Much less from the smaller creature. Howling once more at the moon it picked up the fox in it's large jaw, like a mother cat picking up one of her kittens. Growling it turned abruptly and ran, faster and faster. Crashing past trees and bushes, skittish rabbits darted out of the way as it ran. Skidding to a halt, the fox still clasped in it's jaw it waited for a moment. It's eyes darting around, it could smell so many different things. It tried to swallow but the fox was still in it's mouth. Luckily it's teeth weren't cutting into the skin, or the blood would have turned it more savage than earlier.

Suddenly it was off again, passing through trees as the stood closer and closer together. Eventually it reached a small clearing. One it usually resided in. Dropping the fox on the floor it padded over to a half snapped tree, and collapsed. It's tongue lolled to one side as it watched the fox, wondering what it would do next. It's yellow eyes were unblinking as it stared. Far off it could hear the half-breeds cantering among the bushed. But here they were alone. The fox hadn't hurt the wolf in any way - and not it was much less likely to. Braking the wolf got to it's feet again, impatient as ever. It needed food, but at the same time it wanted more, something to do. It was bored. There were only so many trees you could destroy, so many bushes you could rip apart, so many deer you could kill. As a wolf, what else was there to do? It barked, almost playfully at the little creature and padded towards it, wincing as it's injured paw hit the floor. Nuzzling the fox's side it licked it's fur, cleaning away the dirt from the run.

It had been exhilarating, and frightening, to be carried in a wolf's jaws. She sat in the clearing, blinking occasionally, and staring at the magnificent creature as it became gradually more decisive in its actions. Her heart was pounding, but more from excitement than fear, as he approached again and began to lick her fur; she growled softly in the back of her throat - purring gently as her tail flicked back and forth. The bushy white tip tickled the wolf's nose, and she turned her head to meet his. She was so very small compared to him. Her teeth were like needles next to his knives. Her head was a fraction of the size of his, but she touched her nose to his and stuck out her tongue, licking the remaining blood from his...lips? No; jaws. He was an animal; a dangerous animal. She closed her eyes as she licked his mouth, solely to clean off the blood - but she could indulge her dreams a little, couldn't she? Alex had swam in and out of her head last night as she slept, mostly shouting at her and hitting her, but occasionally not, and occasionally being very nice to her. It was all foolish. This wasn't Alex, this was a wolf. Perhaps she should call him by a different name to avoid confusing herself.

Fyodor.

The wolf growled and nuzzled against the fox's side, willing it to play. It darted around the clearing it's tail swishing from side to side. It was an incredible feeling, there was no sense of anger or destruction anymore. Just fun. This was the freedom the wolf wanted. The freedom Alex talked about. This was it. The wolf barked and tackled the wolf playfully pinning it to the floor. Licking the creature's neck, it's claws retracted back to make the wolf safer. The wolf heard a twig snap in the middle of the forest somewhere but thought nothing of it. It was having too much fun. The wolf looked up and howled at the moon, stepping back suddenly for the little fox. It looked up as if confused and scared at the same time. Something was not quite right, not quite right at all.

Rose jumped up again, willing to play and not at all scared any more. She went over to the wolf and walked under his body, winding between his legs and tickling his stomach with her tail. She barked softly and licked an old scar which she noticed along his ribs. Even as an athletic wolf he was slim, and his ribs showed through his skin. Perhaps he was hungry. Perhaps he was teasing her before eating her. But no; he would have eaten her earlier, when he picked her up and carried her away. She emerged from underneath him and balanced on her back legs for a moment to lick Fyodor's nose - a rudimentary, affectionate kiss, or so it appeared. He seemed agitated for some reason, though she couldn't tell why. If only she could calm him... If only. Her presence would never be calming - not to Alex, anyway. 'For there were some women who would lie with wolves without being forced to...' sprang to mind as she wound her slender, flowing body around his legs - something from a book she'd read years ago, about how werewolves were originally formed. It was a muggle book; it wasn't true, but it was interesting. And some women did choose to lie with wolves.

The wolf stumbled a little as it felt the fox between it's legs. It was paying no attention to the fox, it was listening, listening intently to the noise. The incessant racket inside it's head. But it wasn't just in it's head, he could hear someone coming. It growled low in it's throat. Why, when it was just getting settled, did something ruin it? It wasn't a human, it was a centaur. Trotting closer and closer. The wolf's eyes narrowed and it howled, trying to scare the other creature off. But it didn't move away. Closer and closer it came. Out of the corner of it's eye it saw the fox, it's friend. Growling he picked the fox up in it's mouth and jumped up onto the first few branches of a nearby tree. Dropping it's new found friend on a branch. Growling it jumped down from the tree just in time to see the new creature enter the clearing. The wind picked up slightly as the centaur moved closer. Bow and arrow in it's hand.

The wolf growled, baring it's sharp teeth to the other arrival padding towards it slowly. The centaur began to canter forward as it drew back the arrow and aimed at the wild creature. Firing the wind whipped quickly out of the way of the wooden spear as it came hurling at the unsuspecting wolf. Luckily it missed by centimeters and the wolf managed to dodge out of the way. This was more like it. The wolf snapped at the centaur and crouched low. The centaur reloaded his bow and shot another arrow, this one hit it's target. The wolf yelped in pain as the arrow embedded itself into the wolfs front arm. It growled and pounced, blood seeping through the new wound.

Landing just past the centaur it turned sharply and snapped the excess wood of the arrow. Suddenly it pounced again landing on the centaur's back ripping it's neck, the creatures blood poured down it's body dripping as frequently as rain onto the floor. The centaur cried out and lunged another arrow into the wolf's side. The werewolf cried out in agony as it crashed to the floor bringing the centaur down with it. The wolf growled as the arrow went deeper into it's side. Springing to it's feet it lunged at the fallen beast and finished it off. Breaking the centaur's spine it ripped it's skin from it's body. The creature didn't even have time to scream. The wolf tore it's throat and chest out, leaving it trailing on the floor.

Stumbling slightly the wolf turned and looked at the fox, the carcass left behind. The lycanthrope looked at the other creature, it was still in the tree. It whimpered sadly, as if regretting what it had done, even though the centaur's arrows were still imbedded in it's skin. It whimpered again and turned back to the dead centaur. More would follow. Slowly he pulled away the raw meat and dropped it below the branch the fox was in. An offering. The wolf bowed it's blood covered head and sat by the centaur. Watching the blood flow away intently with it's yellow eyes. It lifted it's muzzled and howled at the moon, it's cry for help. It couldn't do this alone anymore.

Standing up it padded back to the tree and managed to gently get the fox back on the floor. The wolf turned and looked at the corpse before it padded away slowly, pausing for a moment to turn back to the fox - motioning for it to follow. Every step the wolf took made it wince in agony, the arrows inching further and further under the skin. For now, they were safe. But the heard of centaur would find their dead brother and come after the killer. The wolf barked to get the fox moving. Wherever they were, it wouldn't take long.

[Am on iPod, so sorry if replies are short. I'll try and make them decent, but I can never tell.]

The fight was a bloody one and Rose - who was no stranger to violence - felt the need to turn away at the brutal murder of the centaur. Maybe it was just her naive, muggle view of things, but she saw centaurs like unicorns; they oughtn't be killed. They should be immortal. But the wolf had torn its skin clean off, or so it looked. And within moments she was being whisked away again, travelling between Alex's teeth, strangely comfortable as he ran through the trees. He was injured, and she would have to help him, but that meant changing. Perhaps...if she acted correctly he wouldn't recognise her, and she could befriend the wolf much as she'd befriended Sammael - though obviously not as intimately. If she was lucky. In any case, she would have to remove those arrows, which would be difficult at best with small teeth and no opposable thumbs. Fyodor dropped her, and she ran to keep up with him; even at his loping, injured pace she still had to sprint to remain as fast as his strides. The centaurs would be after them soon, and though he had killed one, he would be no match for the whole herd. And Rose, while she had for a short time been on speaking terms with Firenze, had had too many bad encounters with the rest of them to warrant her freedom this time. Firenze was a maverick to them, a revolutionary with bizarre ideas about wizards and muggles alike. The others hated wizards, and hated tresspassers even more. But most of all they were determined to avenge even the smallest injury done to one of their kind. A murder would not go unnoticed. They'd track Alex by the trails of blood he was leaving. And goodness knows where they were headed.

The lycanthrope skidded to a halt in the middle of a clearing, not his, not Sammael's, just a clearing. It howled in pain and collapsed to the floor, the arrows ripping the skin even more. It needed help, fast. It's eyes closed for a moment trying to block out the agony. But it was no good, the moment they opened again the pain was back. Whimpering the wolf tried to get to it's feet again, but it couldn't move. It hurt too much. Panting the wolf could feel blood covering it's already matted fur. The centaurs were on the move. They had to get out of there. Growling the wolf got back up again and it's muzzle lifted picking up the scent. Howling one last time it picked up the fox and ran. Faster and faster dodging between the trees. It followed the sound of water, following the trickling. It's paws trod on twigs snapping them harshly in two. Eventually it found the river, the cool water. Splashing around the river it covered itself in the water and jumped out the other side. The centaurs would loose the scent now but the wolf kept running. The night was young, there was still a chance they could find the two creatures. Minutes later it found another gap in the trees and dropped the fox on the floor. They would be safe there. The lycanthropes eyes rolled back and it collapsed to the floor. It couldn't go any further, even if it wanted to.

It hurt Rose greatly to see Alex in such pain and agony. She whimpered, growled and howled with him, her voice tuning in to his and working simultaneously out of sheer empathy. Here was safer than anywhere else, and since they'd crossed the river they would be more difficult to track, but the centaurs would find them soon. And Alex had collapsed. He seemed to be out cold, though the rough rising and falling of his ribs assured her that he was still alive. As he lay there, it was as if she could see the pale, skinny boy sleeping inside the wolf's, a troubled expression on his face as he tried to get comfortable with the arrows pricking him. She sighed and transformed.

The breeze picked up and tangled itself in Rose's hair as she reached out a pale hand to touch the thick, shimmering fur. She buried her fingers in it, allowing herself to enjoy its richness and beautiful texture just for a moment. But there was work to be done. She tucked her hair behind her ears and rolled up her shirt sleeves. Quickly her fingers found the arrowheads, and plunged two digits into the wounds, pulling the cold, sharp steel out of Alex's flesh. There were at least two, she knew, and each would be more painful than the last. Once she had finished, she leaned forward and rest her head on Alex's neck, kissing his fur. She didn't dare heal the gouges the arrows had made by magic.

The wolf growled in discomfort but didn't have the energy to open it's eyes. Besides, he knew from the scent change that the fox was no longer a fox, more a human. But it was too weak to care. Whimpering it felt the arrow head loosen and then finally be removed from it's skin. It growled again, it's white teeth bared but it's yellow eyes still closed. It's tongue lolled out, it's panting getting rougher and rougher. It hurt so much, but it was safe. They both were. For now. He listened intently as the centaurs reached the river, but gave up the chase. They knew the wolf would have to cross the river to get back to the school.

The wolf snapped it's eyes open as it felt Rose run her fingers through it's fur. It growled and sat up keeping it's piercing yellow eyes on her. It backed away a little. Confused. Was she really behind the red bushy disguise all along? It wasn't sure. But what it did know was that it had be looking after this fox and this fox wasn't even a fox. It had been lied too. Just like before. Growling and snarling it stood, aggressively watching the little girl. It's ears pricked up slightly as the centaurs left. What would it do now? With more fresh meat. It had saved the fox's life - she owed it.

Rose stared back at the wolf, blushing slightly as she found she wasn't scared, but felt she ought to be. It wasn't Alex there, so he couldn't hold a grudge against her. And she had just saved his life. He could have died of those wounds had she not removed the arrows. She looked down at her hands - covered in blood - then back up at the wolf. How could she demonstrate that she was a friend, not an enemy? First, she brought her fingers to her mouth and cleaned them of Alex's blood with her soft tongue, closing her eyes as a knowing blush swept again across her youthful cheeks. She looked very young tonight, sitting in the moonlight, her hair tucked back and her school uniform irritating her. It was all too small for her; her shirt too tight, her skirt too short, her stockings not quite right and her shoes scuffed and worn. On a whim, and out of a strange logic about revealing herself, she began to undress, until all that was left was her black underwear against her white skin. It was not odd; often she enjoyed feeling moonlight on her bare skin, and perhaps if the wolf saw her bare like this, he would see he had nothing to fear.

The wolf growled again and limped painfully towards the girl. It's nose scuffed across her bare skin a trail of blood left along her stomach. The wolf closed it's eyes and took in her scent. It stung the back of it's nose slightly but it was bearable. Whimpering slightly it sat back on it's haunches and cocked it's head to the side. The girl confused it a lot. But she was a friend. Even if she had lied. She had saved it's life. It growled and turned back, confused. It shook it's head, it's fur flicking out bits of blood and flesh, it didn't want to be there. It wanted to be free, to be able to run across the forest floor without another care in the world. But here it was stuck with a human girl what, not ten minutes earlier, had been a fox. It growled as turned it's head licking it's wound clean. The blood stopped running and stayed inside the wolf's body. It whimpered in pain again and limped back to the young witch and lay on the floor. Unable to move any further.

Rose lay down next to the wolf, facing it, and stroked its muzzle gently, allowing her hand to continue down his neck before returning to his mouth and repeating the action over again. He was in such pain; would she be able to heal him now? Or should she leave it be and heal him as Alex in the morning. She would stay with him all night. It had been months since she had slept in the forest, and woken at sunrise with the birds and other creatures that lived there. It had been a similar amount of time since she'd fallen asleep next to someone else - even Marcus. She sighed. She hadn't worn her ring today. She was a free woman, free to keep watch over a wolf. He deserved to be well looked after, and she owed it to him to do him that duty - if he would let her. If only. She closed her eyes as she stroked his fur, still debating whether to use magic on his wounds or not.

The wolf closed it's eyes, turning more and more into a tame dog with every stroke. It lifted it's head an inch or too and flicked out it's long rough tongue along her cheek in thanks. Slowly it lowered it's head and closed it's eyes. Breathing deeply it whimpered as it fell asleep. Too tired and hurt to move anymore. It was strangely comforting, to be in the presence of a real human. It lay it's head on it's injured paw and tried to remain asleep. But the pain was too much. It growled in frustration and shook it's head. This was not what it had had planned for tonight. Tonight was about hunting and killing, not about sleeping and whimpering. What was it doing? Growling angrily it got up again. Pacing around the small area they were in made the wounds bleed again and case even more pain, which caused even more anger. It howled again at the moon and hundreds of miles away he could hear other if it's kind doing the same thing. But here it was, not free, stuck with a human bleeding to death. Fantastic.

[Sorry Alex, I fell asleep... ]

Rose got to her feet and followed the wolf after finding her wand amongst her crumpled uniform left on the floor. She held it out as she approached him quietly, her bare feet making almost no sound on the twigs and leaves that littered the floor. She reached out her left hand and stroked him again, all along his side, passing the deep wounds left by the arrows, where she placed her wand tip lightly and allowed the magic to flow out of her without a word, along the wooden stick and into the bleeding flesh, making it fuse together once more to cover the gradually healing gouges. Then she put her wand away again, and kissed the place where each cut had been on the matted, bloody fur. She continued to stroke him, and knelt beside him with her arms around his neck, every so often pressing her lips to the side of his muzzle - hopefully in a reassuring manner.

The wolf growled and, when healed, ran through the forest. Catching a young rabbit it returned to Rose and the clearing and began to eat properly for the first time after the deer. Devouring it all it licked it's bloody muzzle and tried to clean its fur. Transforming would be very painful, especially at the gauges in it's side and leg would never really heal. Even with magic things that happened when the werewolf was out never really healed for the human side, and visa versa. Padding around a tree or two the wolf tried to walk off it's pain, but it didn't work. It was just like the last time it had been caught in the forest. Edward Cullen had caused it pain and so had Faith Liquin. Even Gareth Nightshade - though pretending to be nice - had eventually hurt it. The wolf growled and turned back on Rose, was she the same as them? It looked at her confused, it didn't dare leave her alone because she had saved it's life. Then again, it had saved hers, weren't they even? So it could leave, leave her alone in the forest and run. But it couldn't. It didn't have the energy. Eventually, after a lot more pacing and growling, the wolf finally fell asleep curled up under the roots of a very large tree. But it didn't sleep well, whimpering throughout the night the wolf dreamt of the centaur herd chasing it through the forest with no escape. It growled in it's sleep and tried to run, but it couldn't it was trapped and alone.

Rose slept next to it, at first finding it difficult to get comfortable among the mess of limbs and fur and claws, but soon she got herself in a position where the wolf was curled up around her, and her back was against its warm stomach, and she was lying between its flailing legs. It was distressed, but she could not soothe its nightmares. She muttered simple spells to herself that might ease its physical pain, but nothing she knew could stop its anxiety. So she gradually fell into a sleep almost as troubled as the wolf's, in which Alex was shouting at her once more for no reason while she looked after an injured rabbit and cried as he made her feel smaller and smaller and more and more pathetic.

"You stupid little wh*re!" he shouted, over and over, and plenty of other similar insults, while she wept over the dying creature, whose heartbeat was fluttering as its eyelids flickered. It would die in her arms while she cried and Alex shouted and raved and no one would come to stop any of it.