baby, don’t cry | Douglas&Cahill
The full moon had always brought with it a certain level of balancing act. Between keeping himself from going crazy, there was also the pack to keep a handle on. Both the members that had gone through this time and again, like Eliza, and the newer members, like Gabe. Though, as of yet, Gabe was not officially a part of the pack. As far as Cahill was concerned, he was as good as one of them. As long as someone needed help, he wasn’t against them coming to him or the rest of the pack. It’d never been so much about numbers as it was protection, and it had become clear since Gabe showed up at his door a few months ago that he needed help.
Now that the full moon was arriving, it meant keeping a tighter handle on things, especially the young werewolf living at the shop. He had been sleeping in the loft for the last few weeks, usually without any extra guidance outside of a goodbye at the end of the night. As soon as the full moon arrived again, instead of leaving at the end of the night Cahill was making sure that Gabe was taken care of. More than just ensuring he had gotten enough food to help curb hunger, but making sure he stayed in place after Cahill had left. In a lot of ways, the loft had been designed to aid that purpose. He never apologized when it came to chaining a new werewolf down during the full moon; he’d have done that a thousand times if it meant keeping someone alive.
Once he left the shop, locking the doors and making sure things were secure, he was heading in the opposite direction of home. It was getting later—not dark enough yet that the need to change was there but he could feel the extra adrenaline that coursed through him. It was no longer as compelling as it had been when he was learning how to control it and now it was welcome. A familiar sort of edge in his blood that felt more him than he did most of the time.
But he was hungry. Always hungry around this time of the month, and rather than pay an arm and a leg in groceries it was the one time of the month that he actually allowed himself to hunt. Doing that usually required getting away from town, though, and it was why it was always prefaced with a run. Anything to help dispel some energy. The sun was setting by the time he was halfway through his run and rather than his focus being on the change that was soon to come and the hunt he was stopped in his tracks by the sound of someone crying. Brow furrowed, eyes scanning the trees. He paused, for just a moment, until he heard the sound again, and then was instantly heading in that direction at a slightly slower pace than he’d been running before. Careful to not make too much noise, if only because he wanted to make sure he was heading in the right direction.
