#wolf daemon

[hauntedwizardtree]

Another snippet for the fic I haven't posted yet

“Captain! Captain!”

Percy thrashed his way into a sitting position, tangled up in the sheets, tight and strangling like a burial shroud. At his side, Zosime lay sprawled out on top of the blanket, her tail thumping lightly as moonlight glinted off her irises. She let out a low huff as Percy met her dark eyes, but otherwise did nothing to help. Shakily, Percy reached out, his fingers digging into the fur on the back of the wolf’s neck. She shifted and pressed her head into his neck, her nose cold against his skin. ‘Thena, their old owl plushie was squished between them, and Percy breathed a sigh of relief.

“Just a nightmare,” he muttered in the darkness, too low to wake Grover, who was asleep across the room. A lie, he and his daemon both knew.

A low rumble filled Zosime’s chest, as she wormed her way to lay on top of him, her body pressing against him as a comforting weight, and Percy sighed, knowing what she wanted—for him to put it out of his mind and not think about it.

But that was easier said than done as tears stun his eyes and he could feel the water dripping down his cheeks as Zosime licked his tears away, even as that hole inside him ached and burned, his hand automatically rose to clutch at his shirt, over his heart. The screams of (his) the men crying, begging for help (for him to save them) as they died because of (a god’s) something’s unchecked rage rang in his ear, their daemons exploding into Dust. Percy trembled under the wolf, apologies bubbling against his lips before he swallowed them back down, arms winding around Zosime’s neck and pulling her closer.

They lay for a few minutes, still, silent, and together until Percy felt like he could breathe again without drowning.

Percy glanced over at the table set beside the bed, and the unopened bottle of sleeping pills. The clock read 2:37 am. He should take one, he knew. Mom had bought them for him to take when the nightmares were too bad, when they kept him and Zosime up at night.

But there was always a whisper of something, niggling at him whenever he contemplated it. That whisper that told him that he couldn’t afford to sleep too deeply. He needed to be awake, alert, to get—somewhere. His heart ached at the thought of that nebulous place that he could not remember, that Zosime wouldn’t let him remember. She kept saying it would break him to know more details of their past life than he already did.

Percy pulled his left arm out from under Zosime and reached out, fingers wrapping around the bottle of sleeping pills, contemplating as he turned it over in his fingers. He had a test tomorrow, and he wanted to, needed to do well. Miss Thea had said she believed in him, he couldn’t fail, not when she had given so much of her time for almost as long as he could remember to help him with school when no one else could or would.

A low growl rippled through the room as Zosime shuffled toward him, pushing her head between him and the bottle. As clear as any spoken word Percy could almost hear the sharp “No,” as she pushed against his arm, and the small bottle clattered to the floor.

“I’m tired, Zo-Zo,” he mumbled. “So very tired.”

Zosime shuddered, staring at him with mournful eyes. Immediately, Percy felt guilt curl around his lungs and heart, knowing that his daemon’s burden was so much greater than his. He only had flashes of memory, the knowledge buried so deep that he could not reach it. Zosime, his daemon, his soul—did not have the luxury of forgetting who they were, and what they had been through.

And from what Percy knew, it had been bad, really bad.

[whitewolfstracks]

INTRODUCTION

Since 13, I knew I was a Wolf. I grew up in non-English speaking environment, so I didn't have access to the internet community and only learned about therians a few years back.

I didn't always know what being a Wolf means to me. At first, it was just instinctual, I didn't question it. Then I repressed it for many years, but suffered for it, and in every therapy, I kept coming to the Wolf at my core.

If I had to label myself, I'd say I'm psychological therian. I strongly believe that because I was born with borderline personality disorder, autism spectrum disorder, and ADHD, I immediately recognised myself as different from my peers.

At first, I thought I was an elf because I was really into LotR. But because of other influences in my life and complex trauma, I ended up identifying with wolves the most.

It is not to say that I 'became a Wolf' because of trauma. I had been acting wolfish since childhood, loved animals and played at them at every opportunity and have been exposed to literature about wolves. In my early teens I found solace in the Wolf as a spirit guide or a daemon.

The point is, all of this mixed together has made me who I am. I was both born and made, that's why I relate to werewolves too, but choose not to use that label, because I don't see myself as anthropomorphic wolf or a human changing into a wolf.

The Wolf is both a potencial in what my soul was made of, and what my soul was shaped into. It summarises who I am as a person. My behaviour, urges, my interests, my way of life. It's not something to cure or that can even be cured. Wolf is just who I am.

I am using the #white wolf's tracks tag for posts relating to my therianthropy.

[anxiety-and-witchcraft]

Okay, I’m obsessed with HDM now, so imma give u a long post about my daemon, Lycha (She’s a girl like me and i know that’s weird but i’m weird also my entire family dared me to have a female daemon and i do not turn down dares.)

Okay, so, Lycha’s settled form is a wolf, possibly a brown one because my hair’s brown so it would be matching. ‘Lycha’, as you may have guessed, derives from the word lycan, which is something to do with a werewolf...so, symbolism. She generally represents my more outgoing, not afraid of the entire human race side, but we’re also both very protective and compassionate towards the people we care about. She often sings duets with me, which annoys my brother and his tiger daemon greatly, and she encourages me on when i’m worrying way to much about something inconsequential. We pretty much have one braincell between the two of us, and I’m not even sure who has it most of the time because we are a couple of chaotic idiots. 

Also my best friend’s daemon is a husky, and huskies and wolves actually get along so that’s nice. 

I’m not gonna grow up for a long long long time, so at the moment she can still shift. Although she prefers to be a wolf most of the time, Lycha also likes turning into things like a bunny or a red panda to be cuddled and a bird to perch in my messy bird’s nest hair. We’re both very emotional and loud around the select few we feel comfortable with, but neither of us like strangers or crowded noisy places. Lycha and i generally have a very strong friendship going, unlike most adults in the HDM show and their daemons, another reason i refuse to be a normal teenager. She’s my greatest companion.

Feel free to leave comments in the discussion messagey comments section thing (not entirely sure what it’s called but who cares) about you and your daemon. God i sound like a youtuber.

[subtlesilvertongue]

Moodboard request for anonymous, with a grey Wolf daemon named Eglantine, who likes browns, greens and supernatural stuff.

Hope you like it!

I'm always open for requests!!!

[subtlesilvertongue]

Based on @kiaz1st Daemon!Au Shiro with a grey Wolf daemon.

[whitewolfstracks]

The Wolf and my spirituality

I have said time and time again that I identify as a psychological therian. And that's true, BUT

(a bit of an afterword to this post)

The Wolf is also at the core of my spirituality. I don't subscribe to any belief system. My spirituality is my own, it's a very personal thing.

And the Wolf, yes, he's a part of me, he's at the core of me, he's my soul. And somehow there's also the human me. I guess in the form of the body I'm inhabiting in this life.

(I don't believe in past lives, but I'm open to the idea of parallel universes.)

The Wolf is also something that's bigger than me. It's something that reaches beyond me. It's hard to explain, but I imagine that's what people mean by God.

For me it was best expressed in His Dark Materials. The daemons were souls given shape. And they were made from Dust. They were made from the same stuff everything was made of.

I used to say that 'the Wolf' is talking to me when wind spoke to me, when light falling through leaves dancing on the pavement with shadows made me feel things, when I saw things in special way and felt things in a special way.

In a way that I can't describe, but a way that made me feel alive. That made me feel meaningful. And I connected these feelings to the Wolf. Today, I would probably say it's Life.

I'm made from the same stuff as everything around me and when I pay attention, when I listen, I can connect to it. My soul connects me to all of this. I can feel this, because I have a soul.

It's not because my soul is a Wolf. But in my case, my soul has the shape of a wolf. And, I base my explanations for that in psychology rather than spirituality. But being a Wolf shapes how I interact with the world, therefore also my spirituality.

So, when I pray - and I do pray, because I'm small and desperate at times - I pray to the Wolf. And he comes to comfort me. Because I find comfort in animals rather than humans.

I'm never alone, because I have my Wolf. Yes, it seems like I'm splitting myself into archetypes, but it helps me conceptualise things. It helps me cope. So, I don't care if I'm 'doing therian wrong'.

I identify as a person with the soul of a wolf. And I can talk to my soul as though to a daemon. But it's my soul, it's still me, it's not separate from me. It doesn't have a different personality or its own name.

(Just a different gender for some weird reason. Which could probably be explained by psychology too, if I really really wanted, but I don't.)

And I do experience all the things therians do. I guess I just experience my spirituality differently.