#wolfothewoods

[viiscus]

♚

     Thoroughly confused, the Dragon Queen looked at the man who was leaning against her shoulder. Her brows knitted together slightly and she opened her mouth to say something. However, she was discouraged by the look on his face, noting the dark circles beneath his eyes.      She sighed. A Queen was to be ruthless and forgiving all at once, yet she had been more forgiving lately than she was used to. Her hand came up to pat his shoulder blade gently, as if giving the sleeping man a sort of reassurance that he would be well kept until he awoke. 

[once-a-huntsman]

The Morning After || Graham and Holland - Closed

Graham sat perched in a tree not far from the edge of the forest. He had a good view of the groundskeeper’s house and the castle entrance but was out of sight of any prying eyes. It was one of his favourite spots, barely in the forest so he didn't need to be constantly on guard but concealed enough so that no-one would know where he was, and gave him a good view of a large part of the grounds.

The sun was just starting to peek over the top of the castle and Graham was worried. Professor Thornwood would have usually returned by now and he hadn’t seen him. The pack of food and potions he had left was still on his doorstep so he was fairly confident he hadn’t missed him, and he usually returned well before sunrise. Thankfully it was the weekend so there weren’t any classes to miss, and maybe he just had a different routine on the weekend. but Graham couldn't fight the feeling something was wrong.

He noticed over the last few years that he could tell when something was not right in the forest. He didn't know if it was a subconscious thing because he knew it so well, or if it was connected to his magic, but he hadn’t been particularly inclined to look into it too deeply. He didn't need to know the how and why, he was happy to just trust his instincts. And those instincts were telling him something was not right in his forest.

He swung down from the branch he was using as a seat, landing lightly on his feet and quickly moving deeper into the forest, out of sight of any prying eyes. He knew where Thornwood had started but he didn't want to have to re-trace his entire night, and if he was in trouble he didn't have time for that. So instead, he decided to circle round some of the more dangerous parts of the forest, knowing it would take something pretty bad to incapacitate a werewolf, in the hope of picking up his trail from later in the night or finding evidence of what happened to him.

It didn't take him long, and given the blood he knew he was right, Thornwood had run into trouble. Having found the trail he was able to pick up his pace moving as quickly as he could without losing the trail. He had not been going long when he heard his brother howl from nearby with an urgency that made him break out into a run.

When he finally reached the professor he was shocked at what he saw.

[milo-mcambrose]

Yule Ball || Holland and Milo

Milo was all smiles when he walked into Professor Thornwood's office for his detention that Saturday. It was the week before the Yule Ball, and he had...plans. 

The Professor was at his desk as usual, quill in hand and feather brushing the scruff on his jaw. Whatever he was doing, he was concentrating on it pretty hard, and that...that wasn't gonna fly. 

"Hey, Professor. T-Wiz. Holly Hexer." He stopped when Professor Thornwood cut his eyes up at him, that sort of 'tried patience, exasperated, why-do-I-put-up-with-you' look he wore about ninety percent of the time. "I'll keep at it," he promised. Nicknames were an art, not a science; he'd get it eventually.

"So, Yule Ball's in a week," he went on, reaching out to put a hand flat over the parchment Professor Thornwood was working on when he started to look back down at it. He didn't think it was too much to ask for five minutes of his undivided attention. "All the professors have to go, right? Chaperon, make sure nobody dances too close or spikes the punch - good luck with that, by the way." Like he said, he had plans. For the latter, not the former that is. Although.... "How does that work, exactly? Do Professors have dates? Or do you just sort of...stand there like horklumps?" 

It wasn't the first time he'd asked about it. He'd been posing the odd question here and there all week. Are you required to go to the Yule Ball? Do you have a proper dress robe? Is it leather, too? (He was half convinced at least a quarter of Thornwood's wardrobe was those leather vests he was always wearing). It was only just now, though, that he'd gotten around to asking whether or not he would be flying solo for the evening.

[milo-mcambrose]

Bloodied and Bruised || Milo and Holland

wolfothewoods:

Holland saw him starting to pass - none too steadily, at that - and intercepted him on reflex. He caught him again, hands on his upper arms because, from what he could tell, they were some of the only parts of him that didn’t have any marks or blood. “Hey,” he said, steering him just far enough inside to pull the door closed and not a step farther. “Milo? What happened?” 

He didn't answer. Stringing that many words together just seemed like too much effort, and he wasn't even sure he wanted to talk about it. Scratch that - he definitely didn't want to talk about it. Just a stupid tussle that'd gotten out of hand. It happened.. He just wanted to find someplace to get horizontal, stat, and sleep some of the ache off. He pulled away, grateful (for the second time that night) for his squirreliness, and went to stand in front of the fire.

[milo-mcambrose]

Holland was in for the night, settled down with a stack of parchments to grade, when he heard the noise outside. It was soft, but it was unfamiliar, so he stood, padding over to the door of the hut to peer outside. He took one look, and ended up scrambling to wrench the door open to the battered young man outside. "Milo," he said, taking him by the shoulders and trying to ignore the way he flinched and the way his own chest burned at the sight of all the bruises and welts. "Who did this to you?"

He didn’t know how he got there. He didn’t remember making the trek out to the hut. He was barely even with-it enough to realize Professor Thornwood was reaching for him (and what was he doing there again?), and he flinched back. Tried to, anyway, but he didn’t go far enough, and there were hands on his shoulders before he could stop them. Not that he tried all that hard. He was tired. His head was pounding, like trolls were banging around inside his head, and he was freezing. He could see the light of the fireplace inside, and that…just, that. He wanted that. 

On unsteady feet, he slipped passed Professor Thornwood into the hut. He just wanted to lay down somewhere; he didn’t care where. But that hearth seemed like as good a place as any. 

[ouat-hp-au-archive]

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