Ball!
Who: Fenrir, Open
Date/Time: BALL
Location: BALL
Rating: BALL
Warnings: BALL
Summary: I has a ball :D
Fenrir wasn't going to deny that there were benefits to finally knowing who he really was. It explained why he could eat three raw steaks without throwing up or dying, for example. It also explained the shedding. But the quest for answers came with setbacks too. Like tennis balls.
Sweet, sweet tennis balls. They taunted him with their roundness, their fuzziness, their chase-ability. He had tried to resist the urge to chase them in public, because even if he hated people, he didn't want anyone calling the police. But he couldn't resist any longer. Self-control had never been his thing.
It was why he was at Central Park in the middle of the night, with a bag full of tennis balls and a homemade launcher. The only other people in the park at that hour were prostitues and junkies, so they were in no position to judge him. He could chase tennis balls all night long if he wanted to. And if they passed judgement, he could eat them.
Bouncing on his toes, he set up the tennis ball launcher and sent one ball soaring through the sky into the dark. With an expression of manic, slightly-terrifying glee, he dove into the bushes after it.
Fuck yeah, tennis balls!
Date/Time: BALL
Location: BALL
Rating: BALL
Warnings: BALL
Summary: I has a ball :D
Fenrir wasn't going to deny that there were benefits to finally knowing who he really was. It explained why he could eat three raw steaks without throwing up or dying, for example. It also explained the shedding. But the quest for answers came with setbacks too. Like tennis balls.
Sweet, sweet tennis balls. They taunted him with their roundness, their fuzziness, their chase-ability. He had tried to resist the urge to chase them in public, because even if he hated people, he didn't want anyone calling the police. But he couldn't resist any longer. Self-control had never been his thing.
It was why he was at Central Park in the middle of the night, with a bag full of tennis balls and a homemade launcher. The only other people in the park at that hour were prostitues and junkies, so they were in no position to judge him. He could chase tennis balls all night long if he wanted to. And if they passed judgement, he could eat them.
Bouncing on his toes, he set up the tennis ball launcher and sent one ball soaring through the sky into the dark. With an expression of manic, slightly-terrifying glee, he dove into the bushes after it.
Fuck yeah, tennis balls!