Stripped Wolf

[themagpieandthespider]

tigerstripedwolf:

Sebastian

One minute he was alone and the next he was not. He felt the wolf beside him long before he saw him, brown as he was, he blended into the scenery perfectly where Moriarty stood out. He was white, as pure as innocence. The first time he had changed he was unsure how nature had cheated him so. He should have been as black as sin, with eyes that burned like wildfire, but instead he stood out. He was beautiful and he attracted wolves to him like a moth to a flame. He hated it and this interaction would be no exception.

He stopped, the wolf behind him stopped. He turned, his dark eyes looking over his shoulder at him. The alpha was incredibly built, his large body looming just beyond the edge of the clearing. If he wanted to, he could have chased him down and killed him easily, but he seemed to stand there, just curious of him. Perhaps he had never seen anything so pure, perhaps he was sizing him up or maybe just maybe he was taking in the scent that lingered in the air around Moriarty’s flesh and fur. It was alluring, it called to him, it must have.

[tigerstripedwolf]

Sebastian watched as the white wolf stopped and turned to look at him. He had only seen a few white wolves that he could recall. They were a rarity, but that wasn't why he was watching him. The smell from him was familiar though it didn't make sense. This wolf smelled of the man with the gun from the manor. Could it be that the house he had been brought to was made up entirely by wolves?

He took a step further into the clearing, his body language strong but unimposing as he moved closer. He wanted it clearly broadcast that he was an Alpha but he had not intention of kill this wolf. He moved around the wolf taking in the smell of him. This was an Omega, not just some kind of scent to soothe him into submission. He moved forward, bumping his body against him as a signs of courting. It had been a long time since he had mated, but the scent of the Omega brought it all back.

[themagpieandthespider]

tigerstripedwolf:

Sebastian

In his household he kept several humans for his benefit. The housekeeper was the undisputed head of the female staff. Such a role demanded a huge array of responsibility and the character of his own was dependable, prudent, sensible and honest. He also kept a blowzy woman in the kitchen who shouted orders at the younger maids and errand lads as a cook. Not as prestigious as a male cook or chef, he still sought her out for her sophisticated practical knowledge. She did after all hold an immense power over the reputation of his house when it came to the entertaining and feeding of his guests. He kept a few housemaids as well who did the cleaning, sewing, mending and laundry.

He had no steward, no one to perform the key administrative role when he was to attend business elsewhere. As he did not James himself had to see to every aspect of managing the family and it’s affairs. He communicated directly with lawyers, architects, suppliers, tenants and other family members. He did not have a valet, but instead employed a butler who had an extensive knowledge of alcoholic beverages. He had one footman, a coachman, gardener, gamekeeper and even a young boy who attended the stables when he wasn’t busily employed elsewhere. That very same boy was the one who had woken up early to attend the horses, but startled back to the house by the creature.

Mellow blues and pinks blurred together in a silver mist to create another gorgeous scene over the English countryside. Under the canopy the sky vanished almost completely, only a few fragments of the lightening sky remained, like scattered pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. The air was rich with the fragrance of leaves and loam. Even so many hours after the night rains had passed, the soil remained wet, slowly releasing a heady fog. The only movement is the occasional bird, startling in tree or a squirrel dashing up a nearby trunk as the wolf passes. The sound of running water in the brook has the same hypnotic quality as music, the kind that made you want to stop and drink it in. The huckleberries were mostly red, tart but with just the right amount of sweetness.

A white wolf as bright in the darkness as an evening star in the night sky took the air into his lungs and expelled it slowly. He was free. Alone in the mist of an English countryside he allowed himself to be as he was, as he had become. His mind focused on every scurry of mouse, every flap of wing. He has never felt more alive as a wolf, and more confined as a human. He rolls his neck, much like he does in his other form, his true form, the form he was born in. Sometimes being trapped in that skin was horribly uncomfortable, but at the same time, and in this form he was ill at ease. Not entirely himself, but it did not entirely feel wrong. He stole this small moment for himself, thinking that the alpha must be fast asleep in the hay.

[tigerstripedwolf]

Sebastian had never needed paths or trenches to find his way, instead relying on instinct, whether that be blood lust or just his body telling him where to go. It led him into the thick underbrush of the woods and there he found a calm that he hadn't felt in a long time. The feeling of the leaves and grass against his paws was the closest thing to normal that he could really remember. Before he knew it he was sprinting through the forest happily, jumping from side to side to avoid trees and was otherwise not bothering to attempt to hide his presence. It felt like a dream that he would wake up from too soon.

He stopped, having exhausted, his muscles and fresh wounds begging for a break. He sat down, obliging himself as he caught his breath and looked around. He didn't know where the sun was in the sky nor did he care. He was perfectly content with being lost in the forest of the rest of his life if he could. Just as he was about to stand to hunt himself some breakfast, a smell came to him again, just as enticing as it had been before. He turned his nose toward it, following the scent. It was another wolf, and yet it smell so familiar.

His feet were quiet among the leaves and stick as he moved through the brush, tracking the creature. This was not his territory so he couldn't stake claim to it, but it was more out of curiosity that he looked for the wolf. He knew that scent of the twins and how those two hadn't marked this territory and controlled it was beyond him. He stopped seeing a streak of white to his left and immediately moved after it. Perhaps he would know the way out and away from the man in the manor.

[themagpieandthespider]

tigerstripedwolf:

Sebastian

James was grateful for the separation the house brought him. The two wolves at his side seemed to be perfectly content licking their wounds in the kitchen as he walked further into his home. He entered the dining room, looking at the four plates sitting there. He sighed as he sat at the head of the table, taking the napkin from where he had left it on the table, putting it back in his lap and tucking in. He ate quietly, his thoughts returning to the wolf in his stable. James had made a horrible mistake, a mistake that he was certain he would pay for dearly. He had taken what he thought was another beta into his home, someone strong and who struck fear into the hearts of those around him.

He needed someone like that, but what he didn’t need was an alpha. He had been floored when he had smelled the androstenone and androterone. The result was an aggressive formula that was a balance between power and attraction. James Moriarty had studied scents long after his attack. He needed to know what caused increased aggression, what amped up his attractiveness and what muted his scent entirely. His attack was a closely guarded secret. One that he had not shared with anyone. He kept his chemistry experiments to his quarters upstairs, where no one, not even the maids were allowed to go. He finished his meal, thinking that he would need to bathe directly following his interaction with the alpha or least he find himself under him.

The full moon was only five days away. In that time he would need to either let the wolf go, or sell him to someone else. He did not believe the latter was a fair conclusion for anyone, not the seller, the buyer or the wolf outside. He shook his head as he noticed Cassius and Clyde allowing the nurse attend to their wounds. He had hired her for this purpose only and she stayed on because she too adored the boys as much as he did. He shook his head at the thought. He didn’t adore them, they served their purpose and that was it. It was hard for James to fight his nature. He called to them that he would retire for the night and to make sure they stayed clear of the barn if the wolf did not come in.

[tigerstripedwolf]

Sebastian's sleep through the night was fitful at best. Every rustle of the trees outside, every stomp of the horses woke him immediately a growl escaping from his throat. He was so used to men coming to get him at all time of the day and night that he never truly slept. It was mostly naps except when he was on trains. He could sleep there because he could feel the train stop long before he would be bothered.

The early morning dew found Sebastian very much alive, much to his chagrin, and his wounds healing in their own way. He didn't bother to come out from under the hay as he licked at the dry blood that had coagulated over night before hearing the boots of a man coming through the grass. He stood from his hiding spot moving out into the open area and walking toward the open door.

He could tell immediately that it was not one of the pup, and it disappointed him as he would have loved to get his teeth into one of their throats. Instead he spied a boy, perhaps a stablehand freeze in place as their eyes met. He gave a growl and howl that made it clear that he was on the hunt, watching the boy run for the house at full speed. Idiot, he snorted to himself, as he starting walking toward the wilderness that enticed him more than any smell of human food could. But the boy couldn't help it, none ever stood their ground when the Tiger was in their trench.

[themagpieandthespider]

tigerstripedwolf:

Sebastian

Cassius and Clyde had never known another life. They had been raised from whelps on the property. They had never known war or famine. They had never know what it was like to be a part of a pack, to fight with other betas for precious commodities: food, shelter and mates. They were as good as humans in a world that did not accept them as such. However, no one except another wolf would know the difference. James never introduced them as such, preferring simply to call them by name, but he never abused them or made them do things they didn’t want to do. They protected him, because they loved him.

The terror and the threat that was the alpha did not seem to startle them as much as it had done the delivery driver. In his fear, he had insisted to return to London despite the gentleman’s offer of room and board for the evening. He hadn’t even unharnessed the horses or allowed them a rest. James Moriarty hadn’t understood, he had thought the threat of a wild wolf attack would have been more terrifying than a night in a country estate, but perhaps his reputation had preceded him. James Moriarty had skinned people alive for lesser infractions than spilled dairy. He would not be surprised if any decent person didn’t want to stay, let alone someone no one cared went missing.

The hair on the back of their necks stood on end as they watched the great wolf come charging at them. They had never changed at will, preferring the moon just to take their sensibilities once monthly and pretend she did not exist all the rest. Their clothes ripped from their bodies in a fashion they were not accustomed to as bones broke and fur exploded where alabaster skin had once been. They had never fought another wolf without probable cause, but they would defend Moriarty to the last tooth and nail. They both latched onto him, the scuffle lasting two minutes before the man himself was at their aid.

James Moriarty fired a shot to break them apart. The twins running one way and the alpha standing his ground, dripping blood on the freshly scrubbed floors. The sight of him like that stirred something in Moriarty, a pheromone that he tried to suppress as he leveled weapon at the wolf. However that natural scent did more than the loaded gun ever could. It drifted through the air like wafts of smoke. Apasine, the pheromones responsible for calming and bonding with other wolves grew stronger and stronger. He rolled his neck in frustration watching first the betas sit and then finally the unruly alpha.

“Bathe and then come into the house. I’ll see to it that your wounds are cleaned and disinfected. Then we’ll have dinner.” He turned on his heal and left, but the scent of him still lingered.

[tigerstripedwolf]

Sebastian felt the familiar loss of what little of him remained as he tore into the twins with all of the rage that had been bottled up since he was shoved into the crate. The pair seemed to keep up with him, but that garnered no respect from him instead it made his teeth all the more hungry for blood. Once again the gun shot came and he jumped back his back to the basin, facing his three enemies, unaware of his own wounds other than the dull aching where he was certain they were.

He watched as the pair sat and felt something stir in his body, something that he had felt in a long time as he sat as well. He was incredulous of himself as he did so. No amount of punishment had ever made him obedient in that way, and yet this man and his pistol had done it without a word. He heard the man speak and the words rang through him clearly. He should bathe and let his wounds be tended to, that would be best. He shook his head, knowing this was right and yet he couldn't rid himself of the notion, even as the man walked away.

He watched as the two pups turned tail and follow their master, leaving him to his task and Sebastian turned toward the basin. There was soap in the basin of warm water and as he stepped in hie could feel the water soak him down to the skin, warming his cold frame and ridding it of the dirt that had been caked in for an unknown amount of time. He couldn't remember when the last time was that he felt warm. The feeling was short lived however as he pulled his last leg into the water, where one of the pups had created an open wound and the water brought pain back to the forefront of his mind along with the whip that had made a mark on his life and his body.

He jumped out of the basin with a growl, flipping it in the process. He looked back toward the exit and the house further on and despite wanting to run and be free of this man and his betas, he found himself unable to think past going to the house. Instead he turned finding an open stall full of hay and proceeding to bury himself under the pile. He didn't want the man's help. He would rather die of his wounds then live another day under another one of their kind.

[themagpieandthespider]

tigerstripedwolf:

Sebastian

James had never seen a more terrifying beta. Betas were preferred for war dogs over Alphas or Omegas. Alphas were too headstrong, too commanding and overbearing to follow the orders of a commanding officer. They also didn’t take lightly to being used for human benefit. Omegas were exactly the opposite. They were too soft and gentle to be anywhere in battle. Betas were the every day loyal, compassionate and eager to follow orders wolf. When neither alpha or omega were available, which they were not in war zones they took charge as the responsibility fell to them. It was exactly what he needed in his line of work. James Moriarty put his life at risk everyday ruling the underworld. On more than one occasion his life had been threatened and while Cassius and Clyde did their jobs very well, they were not very bright.

Soon the caravan broke away from the hostel and bustle of city life, heading west. James watched as they rode past fields of cows and sheep. As they drew further and further away from London’s center the countryside became wilder, more suitable to a wolf’s nature. The neat patch work fields were gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers and dark green hills. The carriages gradually ascended for half a mile and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased and the eye was instantly caught by Seville Manor. It was situated on the opposite side of the valley, into which the road with some abruptness wound.

The driveway was grandiose, sweeping into a wide circle in front of the dwelling with an ornate fountain in the center. James had taken the property from his first client as payment for his services. He traded in goods he could not discuss at balls, galas or social gatherings and this manor was his way of buying respectability. His own carriage stopped just outside the front door and he descended into drive watching as his latest purchase was driven around to the back of the house. The driver of the delivery wagon having suffered most of the ride with the beasts alone was grateful for the end of journey. Cassius and Clyde who had sat on either side of him jumped down with the excitement of youth.

In the distance maids could be seen bringing out pot after pot of steaming water to the stables. The two young pups who could have been no more than one and seven pulled him from the cage by using two catch poles not only to keep themselves at a distant, but to keep him at a distance from them. They guided him with some difficulty into the stable. At the sight of him the horses stamped and blew snot in all directions. Depending entirely upon flight in the wild, their ability to do so in the stable was limited. They could sense the things wild and predatory nature before anyone else on the property had. In spite of their misgivings, the horses finally settled and the pups were able to release him.

The stable smelled of must and damp straw, but also hot water and lye. In the center of the floor there was a large washtub waiting for the monster Moriarty intended to keep. Between the pups they both held the scent of Beta, it was a sickening scent of resignation and loyalty to someone not their kind. Cassius, the elder of the two and more likely to take responsibility in place of a leader stepped slightly forward, explaining that the wolf was asked to please bathe, then report to the house for dinner.

[tigerstripedwolf]

The trip out of the city had been uneventful. The bars of the cage were strong and the cage itself was strapped down so there was no way for Sebastian to get at all of the things he wanted to in the streets. Once he had exhausted himself with the attempts, he took to menacing the driver, enjoying the whiffs of fear that came from him every time he growl or roared in his direction. When he was moved from one war site to the next, he was kept isolated, only able to turn his wrath on the handlers and his men. They didn't react the same way this one did, a new bout of fear coming off of him with every noise.

Sebastian had seen his share of countrysides and valleys, so there was nothing to see here that he hadn't already, he only ever turned his attention away from the driver long enough to howl and scare off the livestock too close to the road. At least once he was certain he smell urine from the driver.

As he was taken from the carriage, he jostled and growled, the smell of the two younger wolves made him want to rip them to shreds. There were beneath him and yet they had the nerve to bind him, he would tear them to shreds for the insult! His paws barely touched the end of their coats as he was led toward a large tub. He was used to the smell of horse, hay and manure. For some wolves it should have been a comfort instead it made him pace his cage. These smells along with that of gunpowder meant war which meant blood. He could only hope that he would take these two first.

He watched as the pair closed one-half of the split door of the barn and one stepped forward and announced he was to bathe and report for dinner. He was sick of being beat into submission and if this new “master” wanted another beta he would have to find himself another wolf. His blue eye fixed on the pair as he walked backward past the basin. His shoulders stooped low and he gave one final growl before running for the barn door, a few feet from it kicking off the floor, launching himself toward the first of the two wolves and to freedom.

[themagpieandthespider]

Title: Professor Moriarty’s Secret

Location: London Docks

Date: 1 June, 1830

Status: closed

The wolves remained at the race-course, they were brought in early that buyers who desired to inspect them might enjoy that privilege, although none of them were sold at private sale. For these preliminary days the docks were constantly visited by spectators. The wolves were examined with as little consideration as if they had been brutes indeed; the buyers pulling their mouths open to see their teeth, pinching their limbs to find how muscular they were, walking them up and down to detect any signs of lanes, making them stoop and bend in different ways that they might be certain there was no concealed rupture or wound; and in addition to all this treatment asking them scores of questions relative to their qualifications and accomplishments.

It was nothing so lewd as the scrambles that were often hosted in the British West Indies. Wolves newly transported would be herded into a pen, surrounded by eager buyers, often pushing and shoving in order to position themselves to grab hold of the finest specimens. A starting gun would be fired, and the buyers would surge into the pen to try and collect the best individuals. Often, fights broke out among the buyers and some were even bitten. The system while flawed had many advantages for the sellers of wolves. A captain arriving in port typically wished to sell his cargo as quickly as possible, in order to realize his profit and to minimize personal risk.

All these humiliations were submitted to without a murmur and in some instances with good-natured cheerfulness where the wolf liked the appearance of the proposed buyer, and fancied that he might prove a kind master. The buyers, who were present to the number of about one hundred, clustered around the platform while the wolves who were not likely to be immediately wanted, gathered into sad groups in the background to watch the progress of the selling in which they were so sorrowfully interested. The wind howled outside, and through the open side of the building the driving rain came pouring in. The bar ceased for a short time its brisk trade as the buyers lit fresh cigars and readied their catalogues.

The first lot of wolves were led upon the stand, not by a man, but by a wolf himself and who seemed to regard the selling of his brethren, in which he so assisted, as a capital joke. The expression on the faces of all who stepped on the block was always the same, and told of more anguish than it was in the power of words to express. Blighted homes, crushed hopes and broken hearts was the sad story to be read in all the anxious faces. Some of them regarded the sale with perfect indifference, not caring to cast even a look at the buyer who now held all their happiness in his hands. James regarded the auction with an auspicious eye, knowing too well that all would be sold.

James Moriarty was the organizer of half that was evil and nearly all that was undetected in this great city. He was a genius, a philosopher, an abstract thinker. His brain was of the first order and anyone who stood in his way, stood in the way of a mighty organization, the full extent of which they would never be able to fully understand. Therefore any sensible human would stand clear or be trodden underfoot. He moved through the crowd, blending in, in his dark tail coat and three piece suit. He moved past the main auction block, finding a captain and six men wrangling one much larger specimen. From what he deduced he was a war mutt, a force to be reckoned with even when he had seen better days.

A shot rang out through the crowd, stopping the wolf in his tracks and the men along with him. James Moriarty lowered his weapon, pleased to see he could gain his attention. “I’ll take him.” The captain moved forward, his yellowed teeth and hunched back displaying his long years at sea. “He’ll bite your hand off he will. You don’t want that one.” James picked the man up by the throat, hoisting him as far as his small frame would allow. “I’ll take him and you’ll thank me for doing so.” He dropped the man, watching as he coughed and sputtered. The Napoleon of Crime threw money at his feet, not bothering to watch the man attempt to peel it from the mud as he snapped his fingers.Two young pups, dressed in bowlers and suits came out of the crowd, helping the crewmen shove him into a box and load him onto the awaiting truck outside.

[tigerstripedwolf]

Fire was the end and beginning of his life. Fire had brought all he knew to an end and brought about the new existence he now lived. Tiger could remember a wolf by the name of Sebastian who lived quietly in Northern England with a small and tight-knit pack that roamed with wagons and caravans keeping themselves days ahead of hunters. He remember the wolf having a omega carrying pups the night the fires came. He remembered him trying to protect his pack and instead watching them die or be shoved into cages and scattered to the winds.

What remained of that wolf was long gone, leaving only Tiger. A specimen who had a blood lust that couldn't be satiated no matter how many battlefields he charged. He killed humans, wolves and ever larger predators indiscriminately. He was the perfect weapon: point him in the right direction and watch him go. Of course getting him to go in the right direction took quite a bit of work and skill. His cage would be set out in the middle of the battlefield as close as it could to enemy lines and his handler would wait until he was lost in the smell of gunpowder and blood before his cage was opened with a string attached to a pin. He was a one-wolf army and once his handlers could catch up with him it would take numerous tranquilizers to take him down.

During training was where he gained his new name. The regiment he was with wanted no fraternization between wolves and human and forced himself as well as others to stay in wolf form far past the moon. Sebastian had resisted, wanting to remember, wanting to be Sebastian and it was only under the sting of the whip that they were able to get him to change. When he did, his fur split where the wounds were inflicted and hair refused to grow back, thus his new, laughable name.

The day he was finally able to bite the throat of the handler that had mocked and tortured him for years he was certain that he would be shot and sent on his way. Instead he was tranquilized once more and when he woke, he found himself in another box surrounded by wood and his ears picking up on the sound of water he could not see. Days later, he found himself surrounded by more wood that reeked of other wolves, and soon he would see them. He tried in vain to attack and kill wolves, humans and everything in between.

When the shot went off, the sound hurt his ears and just for a second he froze, looking at the human that moved closer to him. This one smelled different than the men the wrestled with him, but it made his need to attack him no less urgent. As he watched the two pups come close he growled and snapped at the impostors. They smelled of wolves but were not, they were even more dangerous than the one that walked on two legs and gave a weak attempt to savage the other.

Once again, he found himself in a cage, but this time at least he could see and smell around him. All it did was made him want to get out of the cage more. He could only thing of the smells of all of the things he could kill as he rammed himself against the bars.