(no subject)
Wolf was riding with the moon.
He had to find Jack, had to find his herd. That was his job, his only God pounding job and he would do it. Whatever came his way, whatever stood between him and the herd, Wolf would take care of it. Wolf would protect his herd.
Somewhere, his Jack was being hurt and Wolf slammed through a door on all fours, his eyes up and blood red, searching for the ones who'd hurt Jack. For a moment, everyone in the room stood still and then a boy ran, too fast for Wolf's liking and he snarled, striking out and tearing the boy's back down to the spine.
Then there was Heck Bast. Standing in front of him, trembling, begging and Wolf, knowing no mercy, understanding only that this boy had hurt his herd, leapt. His teeth tore through the plaster cast the boy wore on his arm and then his claws ripped out his throat. The boy who had been Heck Bast was cast aside, no longer a threat and no longer a consideration.
Jacky was down-side. Wolf tried to remember which side that was, then found the stairs, breaking the door into splinters before he paused at the top. Jack was down there, but he could smell something bad, too. Gunpowder and bad men.
He went down the stairs silently. So silently. Wolfs knew how to be quiet when they needed to.
Two more stairs and then he paused, listening. They were here. His Jack and the bad men and they would pay. They would understand what it was to cross a Wolf, to cross a shepherd for the Queen. They would never hurt Jack again.
Men. Men and boys. Dying and broken, ripped and bloodied. Wolf didn't know how many he went through to get to Jack. Couldn't remember how many limbs he tore from bodies or how many throats he ripped out with his teeth. Bursting into the room, his hair hanging in front of his face in bloody strands, he snarled and leapt and was hit with something hard and hot just below his ribs. Two somethings slammed through him and Wolf's leap turned awkward as he stumbled and fell. There was a third, then a fourth through his arm and Wolf knew he couldn't stay for much longer.
Wolf was finally going home.
The boy with the gun tried to shoot him again, but the shot went wild and Wolf advanced. The trigger was pulled once more, but there was nothing but a dry click and Wolf grinned, knowing what it meant. He reached out, closed his big paw around the boy's hand and pulled, tearing meat from bone, wrenching the arm free from its socket and holding it as the boy staggered and then fell.
Then Wolf fell, too. He could hear Jack calling for him, but he could also hear the Territories singing for him. It was time to go home. He had done his job, he had kept his herd safe. He was changing back, becoming a boy again and then Jack was cradling his head, holding him and sobbing and Wolf looked up at him and smiled. His friend, his Jack, his herd.
"Good... good old Jacky," he managed to say.
"Wolf, I'm gonna go upstairs... there are cops... an ambulance."
"No!" At that, Wolf was awake again. This was important. "Go on... you go on."
"Not without you, Wolf!"
"Wolf... doesn't want to live in this world." It hurt to breathe, but he did it anyway. Had to keep breathing if he wanted to keep talking and had to keep talking if he wanted to say goodbye to his Jack. "Smells... smells too bad."
Then he smiled, bright and sweet, and collected Jack's hands in his own. "I love you, Jacky."
"I love you, too, Wolf," Jack said. "Right here and now."
"Going back, Jacky... I can feel it," Wolf murmured, smelling the Territories again and knowing he was needed there. "Going back... going back home... goodbye... love you, J-"
When Wolf closed his eyes, he felt himself leave that world, his body searching for another and he concentrated on home. He thought about the smells and the sounds and the feel of the wind on his face. The stupid cows and his litter-brothers and sisters. He thought about not wearing shoes and how the sun on his skin would feel when he finally came home, warm and sweet and familiar.
The breeze that ruffled the hair at the base of his neck wasn't Territories wind, but it smelled like salt and Wolf opened his eyes. Stretched out before him was a vast body of water he'd never seen before and on both of his sides was sand. Sand forever. Wolf sat up, staring in amazement before he reached down and yanked off the remains of the socks on his feet. He plunged his toes into the sand before letting out a bright laugh. It wasn't his home, but it smelled nice and fresh and it was away from the Sunlight Home and... Wolf's smile faded as he thought about Jack.
Jack was alone now. No more Wolf to help him save the Queen. No more shepherd by his side. "God pound it," he said sadly, reaching up with one hand to rub the blood under his eye as a tear trickled down his cheek. His Jacky was all alone now and so was Wolf. All alone on this pretty beach.
He had to find Jack, had to find his herd. That was his job, his only God pounding job and he would do it. Whatever came his way, whatever stood between him and the herd, Wolf would take care of it. Wolf would protect his herd.
Somewhere, his Jack was being hurt and Wolf slammed through a door on all fours, his eyes up and blood red, searching for the ones who'd hurt Jack. For a moment, everyone in the room stood still and then a boy ran, too fast for Wolf's liking and he snarled, striking out and tearing the boy's back down to the spine.
Then there was Heck Bast. Standing in front of him, trembling, begging and Wolf, knowing no mercy, understanding only that this boy had hurt his herd, leapt. His teeth tore through the plaster cast the boy wore on his arm and then his claws ripped out his throat. The boy who had been Heck Bast was cast aside, no longer a threat and no longer a consideration.
Jacky was down-side. Wolf tried to remember which side that was, then found the stairs, breaking the door into splinters before he paused at the top. Jack was down there, but he could smell something bad, too. Gunpowder and bad men.
He went down the stairs silently. So silently. Wolfs knew how to be quiet when they needed to.
Two more stairs and then he paused, listening. They were here. His Jack and the bad men and they would pay. They would understand what it was to cross a Wolf, to cross a shepherd for the Queen. They would never hurt Jack again.
Men. Men and boys. Dying and broken, ripped and bloodied. Wolf didn't know how many he went through to get to Jack. Couldn't remember how many limbs he tore from bodies or how many throats he ripped out with his teeth. Bursting into the room, his hair hanging in front of his face in bloody strands, he snarled and leapt and was hit with something hard and hot just below his ribs. Two somethings slammed through him and Wolf's leap turned awkward as he stumbled and fell. There was a third, then a fourth through his arm and Wolf knew he couldn't stay for much longer.
Wolf was finally going home.
The boy with the gun tried to shoot him again, but the shot went wild and Wolf advanced. The trigger was pulled once more, but there was nothing but a dry click and Wolf grinned, knowing what it meant. He reached out, closed his big paw around the boy's hand and pulled, tearing meat from bone, wrenching the arm free from its socket and holding it as the boy staggered and then fell.
Then Wolf fell, too. He could hear Jack calling for him, but he could also hear the Territories singing for him. It was time to go home. He had done his job, he had kept his herd safe. He was changing back, becoming a boy again and then Jack was cradling his head, holding him and sobbing and Wolf looked up at him and smiled. His friend, his Jack, his herd.
"Good... good old Jacky," he managed to say.
"Wolf, I'm gonna go upstairs... there are cops... an ambulance."
"No!" At that, Wolf was awake again. This was important. "Go on... you go on."
"Not without you, Wolf!"
"Wolf... doesn't want to live in this world." It hurt to breathe, but he did it anyway. Had to keep breathing if he wanted to keep talking and had to keep talking if he wanted to say goodbye to his Jack. "Smells... smells too bad."
Then he smiled, bright and sweet, and collected Jack's hands in his own. "I love you, Jacky."
"I love you, too, Wolf," Jack said. "Right here and now."
"Going back, Jacky... I can feel it," Wolf murmured, smelling the Territories again and knowing he was needed there. "Going back... going back home... goodbye... love you, J-"
When Wolf closed his eyes, he felt himself leave that world, his body searching for another and he concentrated on home. He thought about the smells and the sounds and the feel of the wind on his face. The stupid cows and his litter-brothers and sisters. He thought about not wearing shoes and how the sun on his skin would feel when he finally came home, warm and sweet and familiar.
The breeze that ruffled the hair at the base of his neck wasn't Territories wind, but it smelled like salt and Wolf opened his eyes. Stretched out before him was a vast body of water he'd never seen before and on both of his sides was sand. Sand forever. Wolf sat up, staring in amazement before he reached down and yanked off the remains of the socks on his feet. He plunged his toes into the sand before letting out a bright laugh. It wasn't his home, but it smelled nice and fresh and it was away from the Sunlight Home and... Wolf's smile faded as he thought about Jack.
Jack was alone now. No more Wolf to help him save the Queen. No more shepherd by his side. "God pound it," he said sadly, reaching up with one hand to rub the blood under his eye as a tear trickled down his cheek. His Jacky was all alone now and so was Wolf. All alone on this pretty beach.