a lone wolf bleeds
summary: maybe ivan wasn't as alone as he thought he was. small lupinwulf one shot that takes place after the end of "the moonstone cub." tiny reference to "alpha one." wc: 1.3k
(disclaimer: i'm not a writer, but i need more fics for them lmao)
There was a certain amount of pride that came with being a wolf. Strip a werewolf of their ability to warf, and what was left? A pitiful, shamed human who was better off banished from the pack than to be subject to the jeers and snarls from other wolves.
Never would Ivan allow that to happen to him.
…At least, that was what he thought before. He glanced down at the angry looking cut on his arm which begged to differ.
Ivan growled in frustration (as he always did when he was reminded of its presence) and rubbed at it fruitlessly. Never had he suffered a cut that refused to heal. For days, it had mocked him, an ever-present reminder of that fateful moment of weakness when Scarlet's dart had grazed his arm, defanging him.
Ever since it happened, he'd secretly lived in fear. His parents had been out of town recently, another foray to Germany it seemed. Where, exactly, he did not know. Ivan was rarely privy to the details of their trips outside the country.
Nonetheless, he was bound to find out what had happened to him. He had to refang himself, and quickly, but he didn't know the first place to start.
In all his wallowing and agonizing over his condition, he hadn’t been able to train much for the Moonstone Games. Not that he had to, really - he was confident he could beat Poodle Butt in all the games with his eyes closed. That was the one thing he aimed to do. He’d even bragged about it to his face. Nothing to worry about!
Then, the day arrived. Swiftly. Mercilessly.
Ivan woke that morning with his stomach churning - the fear and anxiety he had over his father was nearly overwhelming. He was pressured to be the best, but he wasn't on top of his game. As a result, he was stumbling through most of the events (though, to be fair, so was Freddy).
In the end, in spite of all his boasting, he’d managed nothing better than to tie with the pink mongrel in only one of the events.
But oddly enough, being a loser didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. His father hadn't noticed his cut, or really anything about him (which wasn't too unusual - he was always so wrapped up in himself). That was a relief.
Not to mention that he and Freddy had saved the Moonstone from Ric. He was a hero - as was Freddy. He admitted that he was in a good enough mood to share the honor.
"I've seen you looking at it before, you know."
Ivan raised his head to see Freddy a few steps ahead. They'd walked off from the group to clear their heads after everything that happened that night. The excitement of competition in their veins had fizzled out. Omar had won, but it didn't matter now. They both had bigger things on their mind.
They started out walking side by side, but Ivan's pace must've slowed without him realizing. Freddy had stopped and turned around when he noticed.
“When I was in your room. The cut on your arm.”
…And just like that, Ivan’s good mood was gone. Oh, why did he have to go and remind him of that!?
Ivan snorted. "It wasn't anyone's business but mine, Poodle."
Freddy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, until you stole the moonstone."
Still nursing his cut, Ivan wordlessly brushed past him and walked ahead.
"Ivan, I tried to help. I thought maybe if I just pushed hard enough, you'd finally spill. But you kept shutting me out."
He turned his head to look over his shoulder. "Your plan was to yap at me until I couldn't take it anymore? Well, it worked. I shut you out because you were annoying."
Freddy rolled his eyes. “You only remind of that a million times a day.”
Ivan bit his lip, rubbing at his cut.
“We’ll find a way to refang you without getting in trouble. I promise,” Freddy reassured as he caught up to him. “You just have to trust us.”
“I don’t know…” He murmured. “What if you just make things worse?”
Ivan was scared. His dad was proud of him now, but what was he going to think when he found out he’d been defanged? He was still frantically brainstorming solutions to his problem.
Freddy rubbed the back of his neck in his typical fashion. "Well, I can't promise I won't make any mistakes. But I know we'll find a way. You can count on me."
Ivan frowned slightly. "Not so sure about that, given your track record."
Freddy fell silent in response to his words. He looked a little down when Ivan glanced over at him.
“I didn’t mean to…” He started, but the words died in his throat.
“Hm?”
Freddy stopped walking, looking oddly uncomfortable. He rubbed his arm as he considered what he wanted to say.
“Um…that stuff I said before about wishing they’d expel you? I didn’t mean any of it.”
Ivan smirked. “Yeah, Poodle. I kinda got that.”
“Right,” Freddy smiled back sheepishly.
He gazed up at the moon, longing to feel the prickling of his skin that signaled an imminent warfing. He remembered when Freddy had been wrongfully expelled himself just a few weeks ago. It was surprising just how much he felt the poodle’s absence, when not so long ago he would’ve been celebrating.
“Maybe I don’t want you gone either.”
Freddy glanced at Ivan, unsure if he should respond. He followed his gaze. The full moon shone bright in the dark night sky amid the scattered, twinkling stars. It was a perfect night for wolfishness, or in his case…poodle-ness?
“So,” he turned back to the blond, smiling brightly as usual. “We’re in this together, right?”
“For now,” Ivan teased, before hardening his expression. “You’d better figure out how to refang me, and fast.”
“Just chill. We got this!”
The poodle was always so optimistic. It usually annoyed Ivan. But maybe he could cling to that optimism for a while, just until this mess was finally sorted. Maybe he couldn’t afford to be a pessimist when his pride was at stake.
Entrusting a pink poodle with his fate. His reputation and his standing in the pack were all on the line here. One thing was certain - he was out of his mind.
He watched as Freddy ran ahead of him on the path. It was a full moon tonight, so why hadn’t he transformed? Wasn’t like he’d been defanged, after all.
Freddy suddenly stopped and looked at Ivan over his shoulder. The soft moonlight reflected on his face and auburn hair. He flashed him a fangy smile as he waved him on.
So odd, Poodle. Ivan couldn’t help but grin back as he ran to catch up.
But he felt odd, himself. He felt the pessimism that plagued him the morning and the night before ebbing away. In its place, a glimmer of hope was rising.
A lone wolf bleeds, a strong pack leads.
As he considered the events of the day, he couldn't help but turn the words over in his mind. It was a lyric from one of his favorite Doomwolves song - one of Freddy's favorites too.
Ivan couldn't afford to bleed anymore. If he followed Freddy's lead, maybe he wouldn't have to. After all, he was in no shape to lead the pack in his current condition, as much as he loathed to admit it.
"You owe it to me to fix this, Poodle," Ivan elbowed him as they reached the front doors of the academy.
"Pfft, I don't owe you anything. I'm just doing what any good High Howler-in-training would, even if it means I have to help a rotten Beowulf cub like you."
His words were full of spite, but his tone was cheeky and light-hearted. Ivan smirked and rolled his eyes.
"All right, Mutt. Race you to the common room!"
Freddy grinned mischievously. "You're on, Jerky Breath."
