the wolf of the yellow woods (RoseGarden)
@godzillajuniorreborn asked: Oscar finding werewolf!Ruby as a wounded wolf and letting her sleep beside him for the night only to find her in her human form the next day.
note: i really like this prompt, so thanks for being patient!!!
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Oscar slung his pack over his shoulder, glancing up at the shattered moon above him. Dusk had already fallen before he even noticed it. He had taken a short break to rest his legs but now he needed a place to sleep for the night. The chill wrapped the young boy in a cocoon of harsh winter. And now he needed a secure place, and fast.
How long had it been? Two days? A week? A month? He couldn’t keep track of the sunsets and sunrises, he only knew that he had been wandering the woods for what seemed like forever. What had turned into a trip of finding a special rose with crimson and silver petals had turned into a journey of survival. Oscar had taken up botany, and had began to sketch out the flora of Mistral, documenting them in his leather-bound notebook. He heard rumors of the rare rose in the Yellow Woods, and had decided to take a little trip. He had never ventured into these woods, and found the map he used to locate the patch of special roses was quite outdated. Now, he had no idea where he started from and had to survive off of his supply of carrots and turkey sandwiches. He only had a dry carrot and one sandwich left. It was a good thing he always overpacked, but he had only prepared for a day trip. He was sure he had been lost in the greenery for longer than a day.
You see, Oscar was more familiar with the Jade Woods. The Yellow Woods was much more vast, and much more dangerous at night. And night was coming quickly. But buried beneath the supplies in his knapsack lay a pocket knife, which he’d have no qualms about using if he needed to.
“Oscar, you are incredibly stupid and you will never find this rose,” he sighed to himself.
The moon rose in the night sky, shrouded by wispy white clouds. The air was still sticky and he knew he’d have to find a stream to bathe in.
So the former farmhand trekked along, searching blindly in the dark for trees to steady himself upon. He heard the sound of rushing water and directed himself towards the sound. Guided by the moonlight, he found himself next to a little creek.
“Gods, why does these things happen to me?” And why didn’t he invest in a scroll? Technology was all the rage these days. Stripping off his clothes, Oscar decided that if he survived this trip, the first thing he’d do would be to buy a scroll. His feet crunching over dead leaves, he put one foot into the cold water, before stepping his second foot into it. He prayed that there were no frogs or fish near his toes. This was so icky.
“You’re a botanist. You were a farmhand. Icky is part of the job,” he muttered to himself, trying to rinse his arms. As he bathed, a chill went up in the air. The boy tried to ignore it and continued washing his face. He’d felt fish scales rubbing against his legs and he wanted nothing to but to run away. As he was finishing up washing his hair, a weakened howl sounded some yards away from him. He froze. Wolves. How did he forget wolves dwelled here?
He hoped wolves didn’t eat humans.
“SHIT,” he yelled. He just realized that he was taking a bath in a muddy creek, only for him to have to return back into his sweaty clothes. He might as well have skipped the bath. He was now cold and naked, lost in the wood, and a perfect target for any large predators.
Quickly, he hopped out of the water, and used his jacket to wipe himself. Before he finished dressing in his dirty clothes, another howl ripped through the air. Oscar wasn’t taking any chances. He dug through his pack and brandished his knife. This was ridiculous. He just wanted to find a place to rest but he could only see in the moonlight. If he had known he was going to get lost, he would’ve brought a flashlight.
Once you’ve been spooked by something, you usually become hyper aware of all the suddenly movements around you. Oscar found himself focusing on every rustle in the leaves and every hoot of an owl. He’d jump and turn around if he thought something was behind him, only to swing his knife into the air.
“Okay, calm down. It’s okay. Calm down,” he tried to reassure himself. He assumed he was walking in the direction opposite of the wolf’s howls and he wanted to make sure he was thrown off its scent. Eventually, he grew weary of walking and found a large oak tree. He sat at the base of it, breathing a sigh of relief.
“I’m... so sleepy,” he yawned. Stretching his arms, he whispered a meaningless prayer to the wind, that he wouldn’t be devoured come morning time. Just as he was preparing to retire for the night, a piercing call shattered his eardrums. The wolf was closer than he originally thought! In fact, it felt as if it was...
Right next to him. Oscar heard ragged panting and scrambled backwards, while desperately digging through his bag for his weapon. As soon as he found it, he shot to his feet and jabbed it towards the sound.
“W-whatever you are, stay back!” he warned. The panting only grew louder. Oscar stood in the same position, suddenly alert.
His heart started beating, anticipating a ferocious beast with glowing yellow eyes and a terrifying maw. He pushed back against another tree. Paralyzed, he clutched the knife in one hand and his chest with the other. Why couldn’t he run away?
He could only watch as the beast emerged from its dark space. A black paw stepped into the moonlight. Then another. Then a face. The wolf didn’t look ready to pounce. In fact, it seemed docile. Its breathing was ragged, as if it was exhausted. Or injured. Its body rose up and down, as if it was limping. Its silver eyes only held purity, if lupine eyes could possess purity. Almost as if the creature was once a person.
“It’s just a wolf,” he reminded himself.
The wolf slinked towards him, and Oscar shrank back. It moved slowly, until its whole body emerged. From the side, Oscar noticed it was dragging its right hind leg. It was injured. He didn’t waver. A wolf was still a wolf.
At the sight of his knife, the wolf let out a whimper and crept back the best it could. Oscar faltered.
“If you really wanted to eat me, you would’ve, wouldn’t you?”
The wolf paused, as if in understanding. Oscar shoves the knife into his pocket and gripped his hands. He neared the wolf, who started to whimper again.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.” He felt obligated to help the wolf, mainly because he tried to hurt it. He took a white bandage roll out of his knapsack. He had packed food, work supplies and a first aid kit. But no extra clothes. Still gross.
He neared the night creature again. It had settled on its front paws, and looked up at him with curious eyes.
“I’ve never seen a wolf like you before,” he breathed, kneeling down to it. Granted, he had never seen a wolf, period. He felt brave enough to touch it, and raised his fingers towards it, stroking its fur. The wolf rumbled in what he assumed was delight. Oscar have a tiny smile and neared the wolf’s injured leg.
“I’m going to help you, alright?” he asked the wolf. Of course it wouldn’t respond. He proceeded to tear off a length of the bandage. Carefully lifting up the wolf’s leg, he began to gently wrap the gauze around it. The wolf prickled, seemingly discomforted.
“I am no animal doctor, but I suppose you wolves heal yourself naturally. The bandage might help,” he said to the wolf. The day in the woods must’ve done something to his brain, for he has spent quite a portion of it talking to himself and non-responsive animals.
“You’re vey gentle. I wonder how you got hurt, though,” Oscar wondered. He put his hand back on the wolf’s pelt and continued to stroke it. A yawn escaped his lips. It was going to be daybreak in a few hours; he needed energy for the journey back home.
“I suppose we can sleep here, if you promise not to eat me,” Oscar joked, moving back toward the base of the tree. The wolf rose to its paws and hobbled next to him, settling down once again. Once it seemed content with its sleeping spot, it shut its eyes.
If he wasn’t so tired, he would’ve stayed awake, in an attempt to assure his survival.
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Oscar woke up to the smell of fish. Fish? He blinked twice, taking in the sunshine above him. His back stiff and aching left him with the impression that the ground would have been a better sleeping option.
He looked beside him; the wolf was gone. Gone? Without so much as a thank you, the glorious beast had left. Perhaps it had healed over night, but why would it leave so early?
A bit saddened, Oscar stood up stretched. His knife still in his pocket, he headed towards the smell, in case someone had come to join him in his time of need.
The botanist entered a little clearing on the other side of the creek. In a little pit of rocks, there was fish roasting on a makeshift spit. A person, clad in a red hood, back faced to him, was rummaging curiously in something he couldn’t see. Oscar stepped further into the clearing, trying to make himself known. “Uh, hello. Have you... have you seen a wolf around these parts? Lean, long, black fur? Silver eyes?”
The person froze, and silence, except for the birds chirping ensued. They stood up and brushed their knees before turning around. They seemed a bit wobbly getting up as well.
It was a girl. A girl with dark hair and silver eyes, quite like the wolf from yesterday. Her eyes were quiet piercing, and most of her hair was concealed by the hood she wore, but she was like a human version of the wolf. She wore an oufit that hid her hands, as if she didn’t want them to be seen. A long black dress that reached her feet.
Oscar was more shocked then anything.
“Hello,” he said again, slowly.
“He... hello,” she drawled out. “Fish?” she pointed at the spit. Oscar was quite hungry, so he nodded in anticipation. “Yes, please.”
The girl invited him to sit on the dead leaves, and handed him a piece of fish. He desperately ripped into it, taking in the texture and the dryness. Certainly could use some salt, but he wasn’t complaining.
“So”, he said in between chews, “do you live here?”
The girl, who was attacking her fish as if she hadn’t eaten in days, looked up at him. “Yes,” was all she said. And then she returned to her meal. Maybe she wasn’t very literate. When she bit into her fish, sharp teeth protruded put at awkward angles. Odd.
“You seem to like the fish,” he smiled, in an attempt to make conversation.
“Deer better,” she answered.
“Ah.” Deer? What kind of person ate deer?
“Um, I’d like to thank you for breakfast... what is your name?” Oscar asked.
The girl’s eyes widened. She was kind of adorable, in a helpless kind of way.
“Name... name is Ruby.” She stretched out every syllable, as if the language was foreign on her tongue.
“Ruby... my name is Oscar. I actually got lost in these woods looking for a silver and red rose, and met a friendly-looking wolf.” At Ruby’s apparent panic, he continued to explain.
“It was injured. I helped it, but it ran away from me. It was strange, because I grew quite attached to it in a short amount of time.”
Ruby stayed silent and stared at her feet.
“Do you think you could help me get out of these woods?”
Ruby’s head looked up. She nodded. “Yes.”
He grinned. “Thank you. Let me go get my things!” He jumped off and ran towards the tree he had slept on, but didn’t find his knapsack. Did that wolf take off with it? It had all his important findings in there!
Frustrated, the botanist headed back to the clearing, where Ruby was turned away from him again. He neared her to see what she was so transfixed by, only to see that she was pawing through his knapsack.
“Ruby! Why do you have my bag?” Oscar hissed, narrowing his eyes. The girl seemed surprised that he had snuck up on her and jumped back. She landed awkwardly on her back; her dress pulling up to reveal a bandaged leg. Ruby howled in agony.
“Oh my goodness, are you alright?” he asked her. He tried to near her, but Ruby didn’t seem to want that. She inched away from him as he stepped closer.
“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I’m not mad about my bag...” he murmured. She shook her head.
The more Oscar moved toward her, the more she scooted back. As he approached, he noticed that Ruby was unusually hairy. Not that a woman couldn’t be hairy. Just... this was a lot. Oscar raised an eyebrow, looking into Ruby’s eyes for an answer.
“What... who are you, Ruby?” he asked, again.
Ruby looked down at her leg and sighed. And then the strangest thing happened. Before his very eyes, Ruby began to shift. She shed her clothes and her hair began to grow. Her mouth grew into a muzzle and her body extended... before his eyes, she turned into a wolf.
A howl ripped into the air. Ruby had transformed into the very wolf he had healed last night.
Ruby turned around and started running as fast as a wolf with an injured leg could. Oscar snatched his bag and started chasing after her, wanting answers.
“Wait! You promised to take me home! Please, Ruby! If you can understand me, please turn around! I need to get home!” he panted, dodging a thorn bush. Wolf-Ruby stopped abruptly, and panted, seemingly in pain. She turned around and made her way back to him, dragging her foot behind her. When she made it back to Oscar, she laid down, face in her paws.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were a wolf? A werewolf, I see,” he asked softly. He wasn’t angry, no. Mostly curious. He heard stories of mythical creatures such as the Fae, mermaids, and werewolves, but he never though he’d see one in real life at all. Strangely enough, he wasn’t scared.
Ruby whined and came towards him. Oscar kneeled down in front of her and ran his hands through her thick fur. Ruby approached him and sort of licked his face. A very affectionate kiss, or more like her mouth had captured his entire nose. Oscar pulled away and wiped his nose. “Your breath smells like fish,” he laughed.
Ruby cocked her head, as if it say, As does yours.
Oscar tilted his head and burst into laughter. He was talking to a wolf. A wolf!
“Okay, Ruby. You said you can take me out of these woods. Do you know the farmlands? The place with all the big windmills. The silver things?”
“Oh, yes, I read in a novel that werewolves hate silver! Don’t worry, it’s nothing that’ll hurt you. It’ll be kind of interesting have a werewolf friend. There’s so much I’d like to learn about your kind.”
Ruby simply got on all fours and slowly walked eastward. Oscar jogged up to catch up to her. “Maybe you want to rest up a bit? If your leg still hurts?”
The werewolf ignored him and continued her trek. Oscar decided if she couldn’t talk, he’d keep the conversation himself.
At last, they reached the edge of the woods. Over the hills, was his home. Silver wind turbines peeked over the peaks of the earth. The hot afternoon settled upon them, making them both weary and famished.
Oscar had given up talking a long time ago. It was hard to keep up a one-sided conversation. He guessed Ruby lived alone in the woods, and that’s why she couldn’t speak well. But clearly, something had come to attack her. What happened to her pack? Why didn’t she come live with humans? She could pass as one.
Before he knew it, he found himself on the dirt road that led to the old farmhouse. His aunt, getting old in age, had decided it belonged to him. She was off traveling, but was due any day from now. Or maybe she was already back. He hadn’t exactly seen a calendar in the woods.
Ruby followed him, slowly. He considered asking her to transform into her human form so he could at least pick her up, but maybe that was too forward.
Finally, he reached his door. Ruby stopped at the porch.
“Thank you, Ruby. Sincerely. I didn’t know how I’d get out of there all on my own.” Oscar smiled and cracked open the door. He almost closed the door shut, before swinging it back open. He eyed Ruby’s leg and sighed.
“You can’t walk into the woods on that leg. I’m sure you’re tired. We don’t have deer, but we have chickens, if you’d like.”
“Please consider this as a thank you. My aunt isn’t home yet, so stay as long as you’d like.”
Ruby tossed her head and shifted again—this time, growing taller.
“Thank you.” She limped towards his home, touching the edges of the door cautiously. “I... human homes... are strange.”
Oscar steadied her, brought her inside, and helped her settle on the couch.
Ruby nodded, but she looked faint.
“Lie down. I’ll bring you a rag.” The werewolf obeyed and waited for the botanist to bring her a rag. Impulsively, she leaned over and sniffed him. “Dirt.”
Oscar laughed. “Yes, I am quite dirty, thanks for noticing.”
He kneeled down on the rug so he was face-level with her. He placed the cool rag on her head. She stiffened, then at the sight of his reassuring eyes, calmed down. Oscar wasn’t used to her stare. Silver was such an unusual eye color.
“You’re not going to swallow my face again, are you?”
Ruby shook her head. She leaned a bit closer, as if she was really interested, however. Something in Oscar’s head told him not to dare, but he did so anyway. Reaching a tentative hand to Ruby’s face, he pushed a lock of thick hair behind her ear. Her sharp features are interesting to look at. She seemed a bit soft, yet fierce at the same time.
“Could I see your hands?” he asked.
Ruby obliged; letting her hands peek out of her sleeves. Her hands had patches of hair on them, and sharp claws at the top. They didn’t frighten him, however.
“Is that why you tried to hide them from me? I think they’re very useful. I like them,” he complimented her.
If wolves could blush, Ruby was blushing then.
“Will you tell me about being a werewolf one day?”
Ruby bit her lip, but didn’t answer. Oscar guessed she was hungry and went to warm up some frozen chicken. Then he went digging through his knapsack for the first aid kit for Ruby’s wounds.
Five minutes later, Oscar had a plate of chicken in one hand and a first aid kit in the other. Ruby has sat up now, her hands pressed against her rag. She had taken off her hood and Oscar could make out her defined muscles, probably from all the running.
“Eat. I’m going to treat your wound while you do. Is that alright?” He took out the rubbing alcohol and ointment to show her. Applying the alcohol on a cotton ball, the botanist cleaned the gash, making sure any bacteria was eradicated. Ruby shook a little, maybe from the cold, or either the wound still stung. He quickly applied the appointment and wrapped a fresh bandage on it.
“There you go, good as new,” he nodded his head. Looking up, he found himself staring straight into Ruby’s eyes. She chewed slowly this time, as if registering his face as well.
“Where,” he whispered, “did you think of the name Ruby?”
Their noses were almost touching.
“In the book,” she muttered back. She then scooted away, taking another bite of chicken. Oscar cleared his throat. Of course. His book contained many sketches of various plants. She was digging through his bag today and probably saw the Ruby Rose sketched in his book. If she managed to pronounce “Ruby” correctly, maybe she was a quicker learner than he anticipated.
Oscar propped his head on his hands. “You can look at the book if you’d like. It seems you’re interested.” He brought the book over and leafed through it. He stopped at the page where a grainy photograph of the silver and red rose was glued in. “I came into the woods looking for this flower, but got lost.”
Ruby nodded thoughtfully. “Seen it.”
“You have?” he asked, ecstatically. She have a nod of confirmation.
“Next time, I plan to have a guide through those woods. Care to take on the role?” Oscar asked mischievously.
“Next time?” she echoed in disbelief.
Oscar barked out a laugh. “Okay, maybe not.” Silence. “You know, it’s hard to believe I’m sitting here, talking to a werewolf, but it’s true. I’ve enjoyed my time with you, and I’d like to get to know you more. I could teach you some human things and you could teach me... how you grab fish.”
“I mean, this isn’t a permanent thing, but only until you heal. If you’d like. My aunt would probably be confused, but she’s very welcoming.”
“Oh... she’s like my family. Like a pack. Do you have a pack?”
“I... they’re...” she trailed off.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain it to me,” he reassured her.
Ruby wrapped her arms around herself. “Yes. I want sleep. Is fine?”
Oscar nodded. “It’s fine. Do you want a blanket?”
The girl shook her head. Wolves didn’t need blankets. He didn’t really mind, but he’d prefer not to find a huge wolf on his sofa the next morning. It was getting late, and Oscar was quite tired himself. He could converse with her more tomorrow. He quickly made himself some oats and went upstairs to his bedroom. The moon rose and in the middle of the night, Oscar swore he heard Ruby howling to it. He thanked the gods it wasn’t a full moon. In the stories, werewolves were attracted to the full moon and unleashed their werewolf forms, running rampant through the land. Rolling over, he found Ruby, in wolf form, in bed next to him.
“Ruby, what are you doing here?” he hissed. The wolf girl had slipped into his bed without noticing and was already fast asleep. He thought it would take some time for her to get used to a human bed.
He watched her with interest, as she curled up by his side, breathing steady and deep. And for the first time in a long time, he understood that Ruby really had no family. No pack. Saddened, he stroked her fur slowly, hoping to give her just a slither of comfort.
He was interested, unusually, in Ruby. Even as part wolf, something about her made him all the more curious. Thoughts ran ablaze in his head, but eventually, Oscar found himself floating away to the dreamland.
The next morning, Oscar went downstairs hurriedly, his suspenders hanging loosely at his sides. He didn’t want Ruby raiding his pantry so he’d make them breakfast, chat a bit more.
“Morning, Ruby!” he shouted cheerfully. He skipped down the steps, and walked over to the couch, only for there to be no werewolf on there.
“Ruby?” He looked around, in case she was wandering off somewhere.
“Ruby?” He looked outside, worriedly. Perhaps she was running around the farm. It was a lot of open space. Maybe the moon activated her wolf mode and she’d run off. But she’d come back, right?
Oscar searched around the farm again before settling down for a hot cup of tea. “She’s still injured, she’ll be back later.” Ruby probably wasn’t used to sleeping on a bed or a couch. She needed nature. But she’d be back, he kept reassuring himself. Because he was sure that what he felt, the suddenly need to form a connection, wasn’t one-sided. It already took him ages to accept his own feelings internally. He didn’t want to regret bringing the werewolf home, and now he couldn’t help but feeling part of it was a mistake.
Unsure, Oscar lazed on the couch, flipping through books. Every time he wanted to leave, he asked himself, “What if she comes back?”
But Ruby wasn’t coming back. It was 3 pm when Oscar realized. No matter how many silent jokes passed between them, or affectionate gestures they shared, at the end of the day, he was a botanist, and she was a werewolf. There was nothing there, nothing was ever going to be there, and that was that. He was simply a bit curious about her. A curiousity that needed to be extinguished.
At night, Oscar still heard wolf howls from the Yellow Woods. They sounded lonely, and yearning, as if they were beckoning him over. All he had of this time was a constant image of a wolf sleeping by his side that made him feel comfortable in an otherwise terrifying forest. Maybe he was hearing multiple howls and she had found a pack. Her pack.
He still did want to get to know her, and her kind, if she was willing. But those chances were lost to the wind. Now the beings, from separate worlds, would no longer see one another. They met out of chance, and were too different to ever become close. Maybe he was crazy. Oscar would have never befriended a wolf before today, he would be too afraid. Maybe he was just a bit lonely. Just like her. And now she was gone, as fast she came.
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I have no idea what I was planning to do with this, my mind kept forgetting Ruby was a werewolf not just a wolf but here I am. I lowkey wanna write more of this, though. This was very long and quite strange, but I hope you like it. Thank you for the extreme patience you must’ve had waiting for this.
