Ahuska had never particularly been one to enjoy getting around on a speeder, but she couldn’t deny the value now. On the nights of the full moon, she couldn’t get far beyond the temple fast enough, and there was simply no better option for putting as much distance between herself and every single Jedi or Jedi-to-be as possible before the song of the moon compelled her to twist and turn and tear out of her skin.
She was safer now, of course. She was disciplined. She’d proven herself to the Council, she’d proven her ability to fight through the pain and keep her mind, she’d proven the massive progress she’d made in undoing her Imperial conditioning, and this was without the Council even being properly aware of the nature of her failsafe, her bond that stretched across the galaxy and was there to fall back on, to keep her grounded, to help keep her body and mind stable if she found herself unexpectedly under duress…
But Ahuska also knew she wasn’t perfect yet. She didn’t consider herself truly free, not when she still had to fight so hard against the pain and the heavily embedded compulsion to seek and destroy any source of that pain.
And so, the wilderness of Tython was bliss.
The further she could head out, deeper into mountain or forest or sweeping plain, the more confident she could be of avoiding any accidents. The more she could enjoy simply being wild.
And already, the moon was calling to her, prickling under her skin and making her muscles feel tight and cramped. The fox was curled in her lap, his weight so slight but still a comfort, and she wondered as she often did whether he felt much of anything any more, let alone the moon’s song. He was so small. So quiet. And she knew she would try, as she did every time they went out into the wilds together, to draw him out of his shell, to find some small joy for him to engage in. A wag of his tail, a little bounce in his step, anything at all to stay her private fear that it was simply too late to ever bring him back to who he’d been.
Ahuska pulled one hand back from the handlebars to rest across the fox’s back, when the speeder shuddered and made a jerking motion to one side. The fox’s ears shot up as Ahuska cried out and then swore, quickly gripping tight with both hands and attempting to steer them steady again. But the speeder was shaking, a series of small tremors, then a larger shudder, and for a moment she was fighting for control before everything turned white and the world ground to a halt.
—
Everything hurt.
The stench of blood and smoke burned through her lungs.
She hacked out a cough, tried to rise, and couldn’t work out if she had four legs or two. She twisted awkwardly on the ground, her body not moving the way it should, and there was a deep pain somewhere…
As a SMOL FOX, Blakk has very little raw power, indeed. But his extensive training, pure tenacity, and the will to kill more than makes up for it. He is definitely demonic, and has killed creatures dozens of times his size.
Formal Training - ★★★★★
All day, every day. 8)
Combat experience - ★★★★★
It's literally what he does for a living.
Willingness to kill - ★★★★★+
If his Watcher wants it, so does he, and that's all he wants.
Previous victims - ★★★
Even tho a fox, he has a respectable kill count, both sentient and not.
He pauses at the corner of the house, the edge of morning daylight and shadow drawing a stark line across the ground.
It isn’t something he can cross. Even if he did, he would feel no different. The sun now fails to warm his dark fur. The chill from the dew-speckled grass seeps into his paws, drawing into the pit at the center of his being. Droplets cling to his whiskers and the tips of his fur; somehow his breath is still warm enough to provide them life he isn’t sure he has anymore. Maybe this is where it goes, as it leaches out of him.
Maybe he would evaporate, like the morning mist, were he to cross that threshold and step into the warming light.
Slowly, he tips to the side, coming to rest against the house’s foundation. Exhaling, his foggy breath curls up into the air. The edge of it catches the light and shimmers like a forgotten dream, before dissipating. He’s so tired. He doesn’t remember going out, into the night.
There’s a lot about these days that escape him now, like the impermanence of his breath.
Is this really all existence has to offer?
Has he always been this way? Or does he simply commune more strongly with the isolation? Maybe there is nothing wrong, and he just is.
Or isn’t.
Maybe he is the dream, her dream, and he fades as she moves on.
Maybe he is his Watcher’s creation, and he goes away when his purpose is gone.
Does he remember his face? Does he remember his voice? They’ve gone, bit by bit. He doesn’t know where.
He slides down, to lay in the coolness of the shadow. The silvery-golden droplets shimmer before his eyes in green and gold, like a mirage. She doesn’t come to him anymore. He feels the pieces of himself scattered across the ground, like glass. They are no longer vibrant and sharp, but worn and dull.
He will be like this. Forever.
And then he won’t.
He blinks, and the edge is gone, and it is only night.
Whoops I tripped and fell inside an au...! This is what happens when you let the Empire develop shapeshifting technology for its cipher agents but fails to properly dispose of one of the prototypes. @askshivanulegacy you are ONE HUNDRED PERCENT TO BLAME FOR THIS
Oh man, bold life choices it is. 😂 Ok, I offer the following kiss options: 11, 19, 30, or 70. Something something pack bonding, right?? 8)
[Okay prepare yourself for 1.6k words of incredibly werewolf-indulgent au that loosely covers three of the four above prompts. I’ve fallen in deep, don’t say you weren’t warned!!]
———————————————————-
Her perspective shifted with her body; she knew this, and most of the time, when she wore the shape of a Bothan, she would dwell on this. She would try to work out what it meant, whether she was living two or three different lives, if she was two or three different beings somehow crammed together, if ever the parts would reconcile with one another, if ever her mind as a wolf would be entirely the same as when she was Bothan, or this new shape that she was still getting to know, half and half.
The wolf didn’t really think much at all; when she ran under the song of the moon, all that mattered was the immediate. So long as she planned appropriately before the change, took care to avoid the triggers of her bloodlust, those nights were exhilarating and liberating, free of the uncertainties of her condition that plagued her otherwise. The details of those nights were still often lost to her, but the sense of release, of satisfaction, the contented exhaustion of a night spent reveling in her fleet footed strength, would linger long.
It was as a wolf that she waited, trembling with anticipation, her thoughts just lucid enough to hold her in the agreed location. Dancing from paw to paw, she scanned the ice field, her sharp, blue-eyed gaze staring across the snowdrifts that sparkled in the moonlight. Her tracks already wove several circles through the snow, and she trotted another restless lap, barely restraining the energy that surged inside her.
Where was he?
Throwing back her head, Ahuska lifted her voice in a song to the moons, a song to the night, a song for the beauty of the world around her and a love of the moment. Long she let the notes ring out, and her howl echoed across the landscape some time after she was done, lasting longer even than the frosty cloud of her breath that hung in the frigid air.
Distantly, a shrill bark sang out in response, and her heart leapt.
She wasn’t going to wait any more.
Kicking off with a great spray of snow, Ahuska ploughed forward, purposefully bounding through the softer snow banks to better work her muscles. She ran with great soaring leaps, a huge white shape against the silvery blue landscape, her fur lit bright under the full moons. Oh, how she loved to run! More dexterous than regular paws, but not quite proper hands either, the digits of her front feet curled and dug into the snow, relishing the feel of it, the crunch and the crisp bite of cold, her claws raking through the earth on the occasions where the snow was shallow enough that she hit it.
And then she saw him, the little black shadow streaking across the snowfield toward her.
Her tail began to swing, and a joyous bark erupted from her muzzle as her movements became exaggerated and playful, each bound punctuated with a stamp of her forelegs in the snow. And as he finally came up to meet her, she let herself collapse, toppling sideways into a skid that had her roll onto her back, paws in the air. Moons and the stars framed his sharp little face as he darted over and stared down at her, eyes bright and flecked with gold. Where she panted heartily with her recent exertion, he remained poised and alert, having conserved his energy and kept easily within his limits.
She barked again, and his dainty muzzle parted in a foxy grin, and she craned her head up to welcome him with a lick before flopping onto her side.
The fox blinked, then bounded forward on delicate paws, returning the affection with a little trill of pleasure, his brush sweeping back and forth in delight. The wolf shut her eyes, breathing a contented sigh through her nose, then mouthed across the fox’s muzzle playfully before butting her whole head against him to bowl him over. Once down, she nosed investigatively about his chest and shoulder and foreleg, seeking any glimmer of the damage she knew it had sustained previously.
The fox huffed with indignance, trying to pull his paw away, but she insisted, fussing and grooming over the area until he relented and held still. See? All fine. No wound, his pointed gaze seemed to insist, but she would not be satisfied until the area had been thoroughly inspected, engaging in a ritual that may well last for years. And he was determined not to overtly display just exactly how the attention made him truly feel, only the faint quivering of his body betraying the giddy warmth inside him.
Come! She announced with a sudden bark and upward bound of her body, leaping three paces through the snow then returning, dropping her forequarters in a blatant invitation to play. An invitation to drop his guard and simply enjoy his wild body the way she did hers.
The fox sprang to his feet, then stood, tense and quivering, ears twitching, before streaking forward like ashen lightning to nip at her ankle.
What followed was pure joy, as the wolf and the fox leapt and chased and tumbled through the snow, thinking only of the moment, living for nothing but the immediate pleasure of one another’s company.
It was good to be together again.
Only the moons bore witness to their revelry, and the slow passage of the planet’s primary moon across the shimmering night sky followed them across snow and ice, into a frosted meadow where their bounding, rolling bodies broke dark trails through the ice crusted foliage. As they danced across the ground, colours danced across the sky, and as the lights twisted and changed their shape above them, so too did their shapes change, as they started to approach the other side of dawn.
She’d been practicing, her awareness and control of her physicality well heightened after their time on Nar Kaaga.
That time had also abolished all self-consciousness about her body in his company; she found herself completely comfortable in her own skin, no matter which shape, or what in-between phase, she wore. And so as the primary moon lowered, its song coming into a new harmony with the smaller moon that already hugged the horizon, Ahsuka let her body flow and twist and smooth out, barely breaking pace as she watched the fox likewise shift.
And then they were tumbling anew; this time with bodies more equally matched, with hands to grasp and wrestle. She was still a little larger, stronger, and he was more lithe and quick, but they contended well against one another. She let him overpower her, after a time, laughing with delight as his lean frame held her pinned against the ground, giddy with the way he stared down at her with her hair all splayed out around her face, her ears bigger and softer than usual.
“Blakk,” she said, her tone light as a shooting star.
She saw the way his expression softened, the edge of hot triumph melting into something fond and gentle and beautiful, and for a moment she wondered if he saw something similar in her. And then something else came into his eyes… was that doubt? Caution? “Hey,” Ahuska said quickly, wanting to keep his mind from drifting down that painful spiral of maybes, wanting to keep him here and now. “Hey. You know how you were wondering what this shape was even good for?”
She lifted one of her back legs; strong and lupine; to bat at his side with a broad wolf-paw. Her tail thumped appeasingly against the snow, thicker and more solid than his lovely long brush.
She laughed at the way he grumbled and squinted at her, as he tried to work out what she was getting at. “You’re quicker on those fox feet, aren’t you? Just like I’m stronger like this. Cover more ground, I… I can move like a proper hunter, my balance is loads better…”
“So? The benefits are categorically better still when we shift all the wa-“
She pushed up her head and cut off his words with a quick, soft peck on the lips. She didn’t even think about it, not really, it was a reflexive gesture just to… shut him up. The effect was immediate, and in his stunned silence she continued. “Yeah, but this way, we can still talk to each other. Sort of like getting the best of both worl…” Ahuska’s thoughts trailed off into nothing as she locked eyes with him, and suddenly felt electrically charged.
His head lowered, and this time she was the one hushed as he brought his lips down to hers, soft as falling snow. He broke away quickly, too quickly, and she felt rather than saw the heat flush his cheeks as his bright blue eyes fell to the side. She felt… she felt more of him than she had any right to feel, connected in a way she did not remotely understand, and the song of the moons ran in her heart as sparks flew through their bond and she reached up to turn his face back toward her.
He looked… uncertain. Apologetic. Shy. “I’m sorry, I overstepped-“
But she would have none of it. She would not have their daylight lives interfere, not now, not when she couldn’t even be sure of what she’d remember when the sun inevitably rose. “Shhhh,” she shut him up with another kiss, and the way he sucked in a little gasp before melting against her made her know this wasn’t going to stop in a hurry. Her wolf-half was powerfully hungry for affection, and under the light of the moons and the glowing fox-fires above, the closeness of pack was all that mattered.
“No, no, I agree, you’re right,” she whispered, pausing for breath. “Talking is not the greatest advantage of these bodies.”
