Howl At The Moon || Remus & Open
It had been a dark night, a cold night. One where Remus had known it would've been a rather bad one. Because for one reason and one reason only, Moony seemed to hate being cold. He wanted light, he wanted warmth, he wanted to run around and be happy with everything he was able to do. It was that night where Remus had locked himself into the Shack and hadn't known how he'd get out in the morning, he wouldn't know because he had no idea how he'd emerge from a situation like this.
That night, the full moon would be a Red Moon. Something that only happened once in every so many years, special for the outside world, but horrible for the werewolves in the world. A red moon meant that the wolf was more bloodthirsty than it normally was, more set on getting what he wanted. Which meant getting out and running around, getting it's prey.
It also meant that the morning after, Remus would be in a worse shape then he'd normally be, a worse shape in which he'd be without a special kind of moon. This morning he woke up with a bloody gash running down his side, where he'd either got caught on a branch, got attacked by some animal or had been in a fight with himself. There were several smaller ones over his arms, legs and back. He groaned as he rolled onto his side and curled up in a small ball.
He was thankful for the fact that he was already in the hospital wing, that he didn't need to go back to the castle first, consciously. It meant that he got to curl up in a little ball and sleep through the pain after he'd taken his potions. It meant that when he woke up, there would be someone caring for him, he hated that part, but he was grateful none the less.