@adrianvoll
Location: Hrimthur’s Outpost
Time: The day preceding the full moon
Notes: Crunchin’ bones might not be all it’s cracked up to be
The worst of her fears had been assuaged for now; she had successfully survived her first shift and found some unfortunate to consume in whole from outside the haven of the outpost. However, new fears surfaced as she continued cultivating her understanding of exactly what she was now and what was required to sustain her. A few weeks ago, she had almost embraced her new form of being, and she would continue to pretend outwardly that this infernal shape that would hold her for the rest of her unnatural life was something she welcomed. The more she learned, the less this was so, but she did what she could to keep this to herself, internalizing it and allowing it to swirl in her private whirlpool of resentment and anger and regret--but not to allow it to make her vulnerable.
But that was how she felt right now–vulnerable. And raw. And untethered. The first time she had shifted into her werewolf form was deeply frightening and unpleasant. Compared to the sensory overload and vice-grip the first shift into her vuldak form had over here even after it as said and done, all prior shifts into a werewolf were mere child’s play. The moon had sunk below the horizon line and the sun had risen to take its place hours ago, but still, Juneau felt deeply misplaced from her human form. Her hands still shook from the sheer stimulation of it all and the short bursts of memories of what had occurred in her vuldak form the night before playing out like macabre stagecraft before her in a way she couldn’t make any narrative sense of. She felt outside of her body–beside, above, watching–but not back in it and she agonized over the fear that this was what she would feel like for the rest of her days.
Kettle would come to look for her soon, she thought to herself. He wasn’t a fool, even if he demonstrated he was willing to suffer one when he made an alliance with her. He would know what she was–perhaps not a vuldak exactly, but he hadn’t needed to ask questions when she told him not to expect her at the decrepit little home he allowed her and Adrian to sleep within. He’d only given her a slight sidelong glance and let the matter go without any fanfare or prying into her business. Then she remembered it was light out, early in the day, and there would be little to no chance he’d risk the discomfort of the sun to come to collect her when he had little to no reason to suspect she’d be out cowering at the edge of the woods licking the wounds of her misfortune.
Juneau pulled her knees close to her chest and rested her chin on her knee. It was fully within her power to simply get up and walk back into the populated area of the crumbling village, but for some reason her anxiety and overwhelm from what had happened just the night before weighted her down to the small rock outcrop she sat on like an anchor. So wrapped within her own ruminations and feelings so outside of herself she left her situational awareness by the wayside. Normally, she might have heard Adrian’s approach.
