Wolfiebloodie

[wolfiebloodie]

The wish-wash of tides crashed against the hooked cliffs of Fidden Downs, the county of odd folk. It was understood by common lore, that all Stirplae, all folk of blood metamorphosis reside within their borders, amongst their own kind. 

Sunday, the dire fog clung to the afternoon like ghosts in alleyways. Celeste, and her sister Elys, gathered their tatty carryalls and coats behind them, and looked up at the manor looming along the muddy track.

No Wolfblood had ventured this far from inland. From their pack, not whilst this young. The eldest, Celeste, coaxed her younger sister into the street lamp light. 

“Can you feel it Schwester, the sea draws its power from the moon, and in turn shares its power with us. We are almighty here, we are our purest, our strongest here.” Her shivering sister stared glassy eyed at her stern sister, trust interlocked in their fingers. 

[wolfiebloodie]

They came at night -

Dr Alan Clary Bird & Mrs Carol Bird fled across the thundering landscape as the war sirens crackled into action. The engine of their old Defender purred, whispering past the criss-cross windows and blackout curtains as they roamed through the streets. Their flickering eyes watched for numbers across doors, on brick walls and sign post. 

Finally they found number 13, amongst neighbouring houses, a smoking row of recently bombed terraces. The door latch swung open and out came two children. One tall brunette boy, and a small pale child. Alan smirked at the tamed hair, the smartly dressed duffle coat.

His smirk brushed from his face as the whistle pierced through the sirens that howled like wolves. “Stop! Immediately” yelled the home guard, blowing his whistle. 

The older boy leaped from the jeep with glowing eyes. His teeth over growing his teeth, his hands shaking at his veins protruded. “What in the bleeding ‘ell” He stared at the boy, the colour draining from his skin. 

As he fell back, the boy hopped into the back of the skidding jeep as it flew across the bumpy cobbled street into the misty night. 

Huddled up, the glowing eyes of the young cub wolfbloods stared at the boy. Tame, he was not. His eyes faded from a glowing yellow to a stormy green. He flinched as his jowl retracted, his body calmed. 

[wolfiebloodie]

It seemed through rose-tinted glasses that this may have all been a bubble-gum dream. Her warm soul matched her frozen heart. She melted away that stern outfit she called a body and together they became ethereal. Whilst nature ran through the wolf’s veins, light through the hers. The world had turned into a darker, scarier and more secluded place. They needed each other. Now more than ever. 

[wolfiebloodie]

All infernos begin with a spark. Emilia was born in fire and anger, in cluelessness and loss. She had fallen before, not again. Yet smoke had fallen across her eyes. Blydissiad was a lie. Were her bloodied hands shaking from guilt or fear? She had led her fallout pack to a mistake. 

Blood is always thicker than water, yet love lies within those who are trusted most. Devotion flowed through Hafren’s veins more than the Wolf itself, her devout love for Emilia was quick to change current. Her allegiance moved so steadily fast that even Hafren doubted herself. 

The two creatures of the moon fretted amongst the stars, and slowly akin to another began to plot a way of escape. Yet one last task was to occur, one which would upsurp their feigned Alpha. He must die. 

[wolfiebloodie]

Bound to nature, the Wolfblood discovered a connection to her kin through the very terra she walked upon. Her panting breath tangled in the very air her pack drew in. Her minds-eye fleeting across lay lines and mud, through crag and gushing beck. Collective thought, connected by nature herself.

The packs padded foot reverberated across her soul like glittering lights in the sky. “Hear me now!” came the roaring sound across her skin, each touch poured across her like dancing fae creatures. The wind sung to her with such sweet words. 

But Daemons devilled in the darkness, the danger grew fond of her thoughts. And with each sense growing stronger, came the sense of threat to her own. A forewarning dear Jana, you can feel it in your heart, your ward upon your kind will come to an end and you will feel each and everyone one of their wolves slashed from their souls and it will be all your fault.  

[wolfiebloodie]

“As humans come to Wolfbloods to learn a new appreciation of the natural world, some are developing perceivably sharper senses. Are they accessing their ancient Wolfblood ancesestory or is it simply the effect of greater concentration? Right now, we just don’t know-”