A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing
[ saladsandsass ]
Horror wasn't something that Raleigh was unfamiliar with. It was a cool suitor, he knew it well, just the same as he knew Death and is cruel fingers and how they felt brushed over his own skin. Being born different, being born a wolf had set him up for tragedy. Carved by Lucifer's hands, as all humans tended to believe, werewolves were beasts that hungered for flesh and blood and were never sated until a bullet was put right between their eyes. The funny thing was, wolves weren't born monsters. They were made monsters. Hunters made them into the vicious beasts depicted in stories and fables— even so, there were the fair few that were good. Innocent.
Being innocent didn't help anything. Raleigh knew that. His entire family had been slaughtered and not once had they laid a single claw upon humans in malicious intent. But it didn't matter. Wolves were wolves, animals to be put down.
He doesn't know, hell, he still doesn't know exactly how he managed to evade those hunters but he did. Raleigh managed to make it out of the slaughter and with the aid of those four legs he'd evaded certain death. But he hadn't evaded the damned animal control. He'd been put into the pound and left with braying dogs and stale food. That was, until today, when he was lead out with a collar and a leash to a young man and another older. They smelled peculiar, of the things he'd been taught as a boy meant hunters.
After a long drive later he was being lead in, ears perking forward curiously as the younger of the men pulled him along into the living room where another young man was sitting. "Sammy, we got that dog we were talkin' about. He looks a little mangy, but the pound said he was a good dog. Maybe we can train him. Better than spendin' all that damn money on a real service dog."
