#welladjustedwerewolf

[sonofasena-blog]

@welladjusted-werewolf

“Mr. Riley, is it? You’ve done wonders for public opinion of werewolves-- Your foundation is an immense help.”

[aconxte-archive]

"Put your arm around me, I'll help you walk."

Well, that was a good second meeting, wasn’t it? Sarcasm there, of course. He had to bite back a small gasp when he put weight onto his right side.

“It’s just my…leg. I did a number on it one night when I was fourteen, hasn’t been the same since.”

[belleyx-blog]

starter for @welladjusted-werewolf

Belle lived out in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of a forest that wasn’t appealing enough to make people want to venture. The shack she lived in was old, she had no idea who it belonged to before, but it was hers now. The wood creaked under you feet and she didn’t do too well with her housekeeping either. She isolated herself for the most part, except for the occasional run into town for food, cigarettes, or an odd job that would get her money for the first two.

She was relaxing on her porch, the full moon had been a week ago, so the lethargy had worn off and she was feeling perfectly well. The sun was especially bright that day, so much so, that being inside her shack seemed like a waste. There was a tiny rocker bound to snap at any point soon that she was swinging on, with a lit cigarette perched between her lips.

She spent most of her time reading or drinking, since there wasn’t much else to do where she lived. Every now and again she would meet with friends from Hogwarts, but for the most part, she lived by herself with little companionship everyday. She didn’t care to bother making new friends that would end up hating her once they found out what she was anyway. Though, some days she did consider trying.

[prof-alastor]

@welladjusted-werewolf

Alastor was friends with a werewolf, understood the stress and dangers involved, he figured that they liked to be left alone, especially when it came to visits from Ministry officials, but this was not a visit of registration, Alastor was not knocking on the door of a London house as an Auror but as a member of the Order instead.

He used the top of  his staff to knock, one eye watching the door, the other spinning back to check on the passers by to make sure they didn’t think his appearance odd, he had gone to the effort of wearing a hat to at least obscure his eye anyway. He waited for an answer, not exactly patiently as he knocked again.