It was still dark, a fine mist curling up through Gotham from the harbour. The cold had been making Jason's sleep fitful and uneasy, plagued with nightmares that brought forward sweat that only made him colder, and so the Wolf had nudged its way into the front, shielding their body with its fur.
Jason was still asleep, but the Wolf was awake.
It sat up, sniffing at the air before getting to its feet. It knew about as much about hunting as Jason himself, but it couldn't afford to let them both starve.
And so, the Wolf shook out its coat before bounding down the street.
(TW: Minor character death, minor gore, minor body horror (last two are more of a precaution))
Jason was wandering close to his camp, the sun still high in the sky, when he found it.
It was a rare moment when the clouds above Gotham parted enough to let a few rays of sun through, the warmth a blessing in the cold concrete landscape. He was trying to find a good spot to stop and soak it in for a moment, but the clouds were moving fast enough that the light faded again before he could.
He frowned, turning to take a shortcut through an alleyway before freezing in his tracks.
There was a body on the ground.
Jason knew they were dead before he even got close, their stillness and the blood pooling beneath them sign enough. They lay face down, blissfully turned away from him, but their chest didn't move, something disgustingly pink peaking out from beneath their torso.
It was like staring at a grotesque painting, Jason's face going pale, and his hands shaking. The world seemed to sway around him, the vision of another scene like this one playing out behind his eyes.
His mother had been just as still.
His chest felt tight, his breath frozen in his throat. It's not her, he had to tell himself. It's not her.
What was he supposed to do? Call the police? No. He should tell someone and run. Get his things gathered up and disappear to some other place.
His hands were still shaking, his breath still coming in uneven gasps as his vision went hazy.
There was something bubbling up in his chest, his nails digging into his skin as they sharpened. His jaw ached, his ears ringing, eyes burning, body going numb.
Teeth sharp, throat stinging, tears piercing his eyes. He was vaguely aware that he was screaming.
What breath he had left was forced from his lungs as his legs gave way and he hit the ground, his dark furred form trembling violently as he slowly, slowly, came back to himself.
There's no way someone didn't hear that; he had to go.
He may not have seen much TV, but he saw enough to know what they did to monsters.
Jason's claws scratched at the pavement as he bounded away on shaking paws.
