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My lovely Neko~ :heart: :iconanimesoulcruncher:

By the way, nothing I draw is against dA rules, and if you think it is, please note me before reporting so we can sort it out maturely, okay? Chances are if there's a problem, it can easily be solved by talking about it.






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Doodle-Bunch by SoulfulFable
Like the title says, a buncha doodles from this morning. Started in my own style then started trying to emulate Jubilations style just to see what it's like with my lovelies. I like it!

All- SoulfulFable
I spent a few days milling about between home and the university. A few of my almost-friends mentioned a group set up for tainted and werewolf students, along with their human sympathisers. It was more of an equal rights group with a focus on our different species, but it wasn't quite right to say it was just for us.
     I did consider going, but decided to focusing on my writing for class instead. There wasn't much I could do with it until I heard feedback, but I slowly picked away at it and made minor changes. There was no escaping the memories; after all, that's what it was about. What I hadn't really expected was the amount they would haunt me just by having them on paper. Wasn't writing things meant to set them free from your mind? The opposite seemed to be true. Every unfocused thought was echoing with a single word. Charlie, Charlie, Charlie.
     When the weekend came I was all too happy to head out to the woods. A day of nothing but prey and running and chasing was bound to do me some good. I went deep to avoid attention, found a stream and 'shifted'. There wasn't the loud crunching of bones or the painful rearranging of muscle. It was a swift, clean change; an expansion of the body into the form it was made to be. In my case that form was a large black wolf, matching my human height of 6'6. Something humans still didn't quite understand is that we're not people that turn into wolves. We're the other way around.
     Being back in my natural form was always a thrill. I always forget how cramped a human body feels until I gave it up. Lean muscles twitched with anticipation, ears cocked at the sounds of possible food, nose searched and snuffed for game. The world opened around me, invited me in, and I felt the thrill at being back in nature. Away from people.
     It's hard to stalk prey when your body's so large, but that only made it more rewarding. Ambush was the better option, of course, since even a huge wolf could hunker down on its belly and wait for something to stray in its path. But following the scent, tracking the deer and winding through the trees, feeling branches brush through the fur on my flank was what I liked best. When I caught the warm, earthy smell of rabbits I followed it quietly and eagerly. Nose to the ground I worked my way through the woods, finding abandoned warrens before coming across the small field teeming with fresh ones. It struck me that I hadn't scented any nearby predators. Foxes and wolves should have been eyeing that place. Unless something bigger had more frequently made it their hunting ground.
     I shook the thought aside and watched, waiting. Being big in a relatively small patch of openness meant the less moving required, the better the odds of catching a rabbit. One of them finally emerged from its warren, scenting the air and becoming wary at the surely robust smell of me. But when nothing moved it slowly regained its coincidence and came out farther to graze. I waited, partly fascinated by the tiny creature, partly waiting for it to come closer.
     When I lunged, it happened almost instantly. A single mouthful of fur and hot flesh and guts, crunching and grinding wetly between my teeth and trickling down my throat. Not filling by a long shot, but satisfying beyond words. It was a primal thrill to kill and eat your own meat. Both sides of me indulged in that feeling.
     The afternoon passed slowly and lazily between rabbits. The sun was warm and welcoming, thawing tension I'd been holding on to for too long. Some time was spent dozing while I waited for them to forget I was there. The evening chill was settling when I decided to head back home. I shifted back to human form, feeling the cramped space of the much smaller body and just being grateful that it remembered its clothes. I could have strolled home as a wolf, even wanted to, but the attention it would've drawn stopped me. Even at that size there were people that wouldn't hesitate to throw a rock or taunt me.
     I snorted and found my way out of the trees. There were still more humans then creatures like me, and a lot of them still weren't fond of sharing their status as 'most intelligent animal'. Hence the mockery and abuse. It was hard not to growl or challenge the more imposing ones on the walk home, the ones that just walking near them you could feel their ego pulsing against you and demanding that you acknowledge them as superior. A sharp-suited man like that strode past me and smugly noted my downcast eyes. I looked up quickly, irritated and sharp eyed, and smirked at the way he flinched away from me on the pavement.
     “Good day at the office?” I said, keeping the smirk but making my voice light and casual. Look arrogant. Look human, even if that meant looking like an asshole.
     He gave an awkward nod and unsure smile before hurrying away. He might not have known what I was, but locking eyes even for that second would have impressed something upon him. An animal feeling. Hopefully he didn't take it as a threat. That was the last thing I needed.
     As the man faded from my mind and the world returned to its smells of heated concrete and roads and air laced with the rich aromas of human life, I felt something press against my being. It felt like someone putting the faintest pressure on my shoulders in simple awareness of my existence. It itched in the back of my mind when I turned my attention to it, unable to determine its source. I'd never known such a light touch; I hadn't been with a pack before to experience the pack-mind with them, and when I first opened myself to Charlie it had been fully to the point of losing ourselves in each other. It was so faint. So curious. Then just as quickly it departed, but not without leaving a clear trace of puzzlement.
     I rumbled to myself at that. “Not a wolf, then.” Unless it was another loner testing limits and being surprised when there was no violent mental resistance. I prayed it was that. I prayed it wasn't a human who had stumbled into the most intimate link with me. Once was enough with mortality, and there was no eagerness to go back to it. Just another lone wolf, that's all it could be.

The next morning felt dreary. My stomach was pleasantly full of rabbit from the night before, but it was putting me in a happy stupor that was horrid to get out of. There was the story to read to the class, and all I wanted to do was sleep on the couch and seep in the sun from the open window. Instead I gathered my books and left, the warmth outside only making the decision to go to class harder. There were a few good open lawns on campus to curl up and sleep on, and I wasn't the only wolf with the idea. It wasn't that uncommon to see a few dozing on warm days, nor was it uncommon to see other species avoid some of those areas.
     “Ready to read this time?” Glenn, one of my actual friends, greeted me outside the theatre.
     I scoffed. “You weren't even here last week, who do you know I didn't read it?”
     “Clive posted the list on the website again. Noticed you were on last week and this week so I figured you chickened out.”
     “I didn't chicken out,” I grunted, shoving past him into the theatre. A few other students were scattered around the seats, not many really sitting together. “It's just hard to read something out when everyone think it's gonna be some stupid werewolf-lovestory drivel they've read before. I'm a walking cliché to these people.”
     Glen ignored my annoyance at him and sat with me. He could always pick my sour spots and tried to turn them sweet. “Then prove them wrong. Is that so hard? You're hardly a cliché. I mean you don't even try to use your animal magnetism on the ladies.”
     A snort of laughter left me before I could help it. “Ladies aren't my thing.”
     “See? Not a cliché!”
     “They'll find a way to make me one. Active, fit and toned male with no interest in women? Hardly a major in originality.”
     Glen rolled his eyes and looked through his bag. “You're too sensitive about it. So what if they think that about you? I mean really, so what?” He found what he was looking for and pulled out a copy of 'Tainted Souls', an apparently serious look at the tainted and what made them how they are. “At least no one really thinks you're a monster.”
     It was hard to argue with that when he held anything to do with the tainted. Werewolves were hardly a threat to humanity when the two were compared. “I know that. I just wish they didn't think we were so, I don't know, flowery-romantic just because of all the damn books that are like that.”
     He was nodding but I could feel his attention slipping as he leafed through his book to find his page. I couldn't blame him. We'd had this talk before and it always ended much the same.
     I pulled out the story I had to read. Looked over it again and felt my gut wrench as the memory tried to flood me and carry me off. There wasn't a lot that could be done about that. Grief takes its own damn time, even when we just want to move on and get over it. The rest of the class was slowly filing in around us and I took the time to make what peace I could with the story. I would read it, get their feedback, and go back to fix it. That was all.  
     Clive came in and took up his spot at the front of the room, sipping his coffee while he waited for the last of the stragglers. Those that came in after the official starting time were given a hard glare and silent greeting. Those that met that stare, usually a couple of guys that stayed out too long drinking their coffee, ducked their heads and slunk to their seats.
     We went through the roll-call and Clive took some time to remind everyone who had to read that lesson. I didn't want to, but it was part of my mark. There was no way that I was going to back out of it just because it was uncomfortable. I had a point to prove after all, mostly to myself.
     “Alright, Desmond, Joan, and Nathan are reading today. Did you all bring your work?”
     Each of us nodded.
     “Good. Who wants to go first?”
     Hesitation. The nervousness was palpable and thick. Even when we'd all seen it before and even done it before, it was threatening. I raised my hand. If I thought about it any more then absolutely necessary it'd only be harder.
     Clive nodded and gestured for me to come forward. There were less murmurs that time as I made my way down. The novelty had worn off already; the werewolf had stood in front of the crowd and he lost his nerve. End of story. But when I reached the stage all eyes were on me, all intent. Glenn looked almost as nervous as I felt. Second hand embarrassment was a horrible thing.
     I cleared my throat, looked at the pages in my hand, and began. “So. Like I said last time. Not a typical love story.” Again the snickering, but at least hushed the second time around. I took a deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly. Did it again for good measure.
     It was over quicker then I thought. The story of how I came to know I wanted Charlie, and how in the end he died. All in the space of a few months when I was seventeen. Five years ago. I thought reading it wasn't so bad until I came back from the story, back from the space where all I was doing was saying the words. My hands were shaking so badly I wondered how I read off the pages at all. Heavy, laboured breathing filled my ears along with the harsh thrumming of a pained, nervous heart. Tears slicked my cheeks. It was still too close. Vile distaste filled me; I should have been seeing a counsellor instead of taking a writing class to deal with it.
     “Jesus Christ,” Glenn muttered lowly, getting up from his desk and hastily coming to me. I wanted to tell him I was fine, that it was nothing, that I was just emotional. But all that came from me was an unsure, uneven whine as he cupped my cheeks, stroked my ears and let me rest my head on his chest. “It's okay Des, you did good. You did great.” His hands were warm and slightly rough, and his soft strokes slowly eased my quivering. At other times it would have been demeaning to be treated so much like a dog, petted and stroked and told you did good like that. But the urge to sink into his quiet, repeated praise and calming touch was too much.
     There were vague voices as we stood there, Glenn talking to Clive and explaining what was happening. Glenn had seen these 'attacks' before. After a while, but still not long enough for my nerves to be calmed completely, he let me go and looked at me.
     “You okay?”
     Against better judgement I glanced up at the rest of the class; all staring, all murmuring. I shook my head once and found my voice. “No.”
     “Okay. We're gonna go outside and breathe, alright? Gonna calm down good.” He smiled, trying to encourage me. I looked at Clive for permission, feeling no will to make the choice on my own, and when he nodded I started for the door.
     “Can you just summarise their critique for him? We'll drop by your office later and talk to you about it.”
     Clive was hesitant but made his best effort to be understand. “Sure. I'll see you both later.”
     Glenn caught up with me as I hovered by the door and lead me outside, taking the crumpled pages out of my hands. “That's enough of that for today. Can you talk about what happened?”
    All I really wanted to do was get coffee and pretend it hadn't happened, at least for a few hours. “Soon. Coffee?”
     He scowled. “I thought that was bad for you?”
     “Sometimes bad is worth it. But it won't kill me.” For a moment I wished I was human. No one questions when they want caffeine or chocolate or fruit. Not that most of it was deadly for me, but it did a lot less for my dietary needs. “Come on.” I started walking, knowing he'd follow, and headed towards one of the quieter cafes. My hands still shook but I did my best to still them. With the rush of emotions gone, all that was left behind were the small tremors and an insist, pounding headache. “I wanna be wolf.”
     A nod and sympathetic look was all he could really give. He never bothered to say he understood, never bothered to pretend he knew what it felt like. Never tried to deny that it was how I felt. It made him wonderful. “I know you do, Des.”
     We walked slowly, my dragging feet setting the pace, people streaming around us and going on with their lives. We were just faces to be glimpsed at then forgotten. “Do you wish you knew what it was like? Like others say they do?”
     He snorted at that, nudging me lightly. “Hell no. Like it's cool that you feel it and you are what you are, like it's cool to say 'Yeah my best buddy is a were and it's rad' but I don't wanna feel what you feel. Why would anyone?”
     “Grass is greener on the other side, I guess. They think of the good sense of smell and hearing, and forget that even that can get you into trouble. They forget that you can't eat everything, bet most of them would hate having to eat how I do. Most of the time.”
     “Probably do humanity some good, really.”
     It was my turn to snort, smiling at him as I held the cafe door open for him. “If nothing else, it makes feeling bad for eating meat a lot harder.”
     “Has anyone try to tell you wolves can be vegan lately?”
     “Not for a few months now, no.” Ah, and the amusement that thought gave me. I didn't mind, really, it's not like werewolves can be forced to eat a particular way when we can get other food. But it did raise a few bodily differences between us and them; they could choose that path, we couldn't.
     Glenn strolled ahead of me and went to order coffee, chatting with the girl behind the counter. It was charming, watching him talk. His lack of interest in sex put women at ease and seemed to convince men he didn't eye them but he could admire a nice body as easily as anyone else.
     I stood beside him and listened to him chatter, telling the girl about his walk to uni and asking her how her day was, was it busy, how was she? What was her favourite coffee, her favourite scent, what was her name? And all of it he devoured intently, memorising details and smiling and laughing.
     When our coffee was handed over, he tipped her a wink and we went to find a seat. A cosy little nook up the back, surrounded by windows overlooking the lower level of the university was empty so we claimed it. Stretched out on the couches tucked together in an 'L' shape and got comfy. Odds are we wouldn't move for a while.
     For a while he let me sip silently, knowing his questions would come and trying to prepare myself for them. Honestly I didn't really know what had come over me in class. Everything seemed fine until I stopped.
     “So. Can you talk now?”
     “What was her name?” I asked, gaze fixated out the window, idly watching the throngs of people move about.
     “Claire. Des, don't avoid me. Please. It's better to talk about him.”
     I heaved a sigh, felt the pain catch in my chest. “Charlie.”
      There was silence between us, filled by the rattle of cups and mugs and spoons clinking around inside them. The talk of people.
     “I already know what happened to him. I just want to know why it was so bad for you today.”
     To avoid meeting his eyes, I stared down at the coffee in my hands. In all honesty there seemed to be no reason it should have been worse. I'd long ago accepted that I would always feel guilty, that much was only natural, but that it also wasn't my fault. “I don't know. Maybe saying it all out-loud like that just rattled me. Brought it back too clearly.”
     “You barely said anything. Your mouth kept moving but you trailed off at the part about meeting him in the woods.”
     I sipped my coffee, ignoring the unpleasant grumble it gave my stomach. “That's kinda embarrassing.”
     He reached out and touched my cheek, and I unthinkingly looked up and had no choice but to meet with the concern on face. Etched into the worried lines between his eyebrows. “I've seen you cry before, Des. Seen you bawl over him, but never lose your voice and tremble and look like you're having a complete panic attack.”
     “I thought I smelt him.” I said suddenly. “Last week after class. Maybe it just set me off a bit. Had a few bad dreams about it, too.”
     “Why didn't you go after it? I mean maybe you didn't think you smelt it, maybe you actually did. Not that it would be Charlie, but-”
     “-I didn't because it was probably just my imagination. Getting all worked up from writing things out in the first place.” But there was that brush against my mind. It could have been a curious wolf, quite easily could have been, but it could have been someone else. Not Charlie, no, but someone else.
     Glenn didn't believe me. He minutely scrunched his face when he was sure he's hearing a lie, and the slight creases around his nose gave that look away. He went to say something, sighed, then seemed to change his words. “Well. Just don't be scared of it, alright? Take your time, but don't hide from it forever. It might be better this time.”
     How it could be better then being with my best friend, better then finally admitting it all to each other? It was probably some stranger with their own damn problems hanging over them, and I couldn't be bothered to deal with that from someone besides myself. Selfish but true. And they might feel the same about me, not wanting to deal with my grief over Charlie when they're meant to be my new mate so why should my old one matter so much? I didn't want him to be a wedge between me and the next one. I wanted to be over him by then.
     “Stop scowling at me. You're not as scary as you think you are when you make that face.”
     I blinked, pulled back from the thoughts. “Oh. Sorry. Didn't mean it.” Another thing I could work on. The face I make when I concentrate. “I don't think I'm trying to be scary, though.”
     “Maybe not, but you have the same kinda face when you're angry.”
     There wasn't much I could say to that, so I nodded and looked back out the window. He sighed and started drinking his coffee. The trembling in my hands had stopped, but the headache still pounded and throbbed. I wished that I'd never thought writing things out would help. Or that I'd at least tried it in small scale first.
     Glenn started in his seat. I looked to see him glaring at a group sitting nearby, pointing at us and whispering. It wasn't that unusual and I wasn't the only wolf that got attention by a long shot, but Glenn wasn't the kind of guy to let it go unnoticed once he spotted it. So I immediately whined, about to tell him to leave it alone but I could see in his face that he took my noise for distress at their actions, not his.
     “Hey, you guys mind? We're trying to have a nice coffee, not be pointed at like some cheap entertainment.” He was the type of person that could be intimidating if you got on his bad side. Tall and obviously some kind of sportsman, he could tower over most and watch them cower beneath him. At least he didn't stand to confront that group, he got my credit for that.
     A rather burly member of their group met his gaze readily. “Nothing wrong with pointing at dogs.”
     Glenn set his jaw but thankfully stayed seated. “He's not a dog. Looks damn human to me.”
     Most of them started to look away, embarrassed at being caught and embarrassed by their friend. But the burly guy held firm. “Everyone knows they're not really human. They start as dogs and die as dogs.”
     'Dogs'. Not even wolves, just dogs. Like pathetic strays you could just take off the street and put down. At least he understood how we worked, I guess, a lot of humans couldn't wrap their mind around it. I touched Glenn's hand, which of course brought out a smirk on the burly one. “Not worth the trouble.”
     He calmed enough to give up the challenge and look at me. “If you're sure, then fine.”
     “Sure he's sure, just look at how the little bitch idolises you.”
     My head throbbed and my muscles tightened but I made a point of shrugging it off and going back to my drink. Not allowed to get too angry; that's just a werewolf thing to do. “Now he's just insulting women, comparing them to a guy. That's just rude.” I said to Glenn, who smiled despite himself and nodded his agreement.
     A few more calls and taunts were flung our way. Calling us fags, saying Glenn must be into bestiality, asking if when we fucked I took him as a wolf. Eventually we got tired of being smart-asses about it and just ignored him as best we could. And eventually his friends starting awkwardly trying to leave, and after a bit of nagging he went with them to play pool.
     Again I realised I was still better off being a male of my species. And still better off being a werewolf then a tainted.
     “Des, I'm thinking of going to the social rights group tomorrow. Why don't you come with? You can use that ass as an example.”
     I'd rather have avoided that group like a plague. Worried that if I said anything, it would turn into talk about how awful humans were and that wasn't what I wanted. But it was Glenn asking, not a few people I'd talked to on occasion in other classes to pass time, and I owed a lot to him. Definitely enough to sit through an afternoon of political chatter. “Sure, I guess. Can't hurt to go at least once, can it?”

We didn't do much after that. Went back and talked to Clive about my work, and basically got the same feedback as everyone; tighten it up, watch your syntax, consider how you're using italics to denote changes in time or perspective. We thanked him, walked off campus, and went our separate ways. Glenn had footy training and I had assignments to work on.
     The unit was cold enough when I got back to encourage me to close the windows and turn on the heater. I settled in for a lazy night, dragging my laptop out of my room for a change and sitting on the couch with the TV on, watching between thoughts about literature we were analysing.
     After a while I got up and made dinner. Beef and rice stir-fry with a few vegetables. Not as good as eating freshly killed meat, but the human habit of cooking food and making it taste good with extra spices was too hard to kick. And at least some rice and greens weren't dangerous to my health, and the meat was only seared to keep in some of the raw goodness. Sad thing is that I can pretty much only drink water if I want to be good to my body; there are a few 'werewolf safe' sodas and energy drinks but they all tasted awful to me. Same with any alcohol that claims to be non-damaging, which is just funny when it damages humans in the first place.
     The comfy heat of the living room eventually started to have an effect and I put away the laptop and dozed for a bit before opting for a bath. No shower after that hell of a class. When I was done I was buzzing with warmth and my muscles tingled pleasantly as I crawled into bed. Sleep took me quickly, but so did the dreams.
     And dreams so easily warped to nightmares.
“It's not a typical love story.” Eye rolls. Sniggers and elbow jabs coursing through the lecture theatre. My ears burnt with embarrassment and I tried my best not to pick out words, not to pay attention. My jaw tensed at the repeated sentiment that echoed through them; werewolves shouldn't write love stories. As if we're all cliched beasts from books that were already written, all predator and animal magnetism to pull in the damsel. There were a few problems with that line of thought when it came to me.
     Silence eventually settled. It would have been faster if I'd met any eyes and stared them down, but I strictly kept my gaze at the back wall. It was hard. There was a challenge and I denied it to myself for the sake of wanting to be unnoticed to those people. Of wanting them to think I was more then the dumb beast they assumed I was.
     I was meant to read out the story I held in tightly clenched hands. That was the point, sharing stories and getting feedback. It would've been better if it was more casual, but our usual room was under renovation. So the three of us meant to share that day had to stand in front of everyone and read when we'd usually sit and sometimes get away with muttering quietly. Was that really so much to ask for?
     If it were any other damn story I could have shrugged off their laughter, shrugged off their stupid assumption that wolves couldn't do anything original because they still saw us as tropes. But the assignment was to write something based off our lives, and they were already reducing it to a story they'd all heard before. Their contempt was throbbing in the space between us. I was nothing. A stupid dog that learnt how to talk like a man. I hated knowing that if I was a female it'd be even worse; there was no end to the 'bitch' jokes and claims that having sex with one was basically bestiality. A flash of anger went through me but I held it back. That was another thing they'd expected. The anger.
     “Desmond, are you ready to read?” The professor, Clive Hogan, gently prodding me to get it out of the way. I nodded once and took a breath. But no words came. Ridicule at me was fine; ridicule at his memory was not. Screeching tires. Wet. After-rain.
     I shook my head and took a step back. No. I wasn't ready to read. I wasn't even ready to face the truth of it myself, let alone share it. Pointless mumbling passed my lips before I finally found words. “Next week. I can't today.”
     For a moment the silence held. There was a faint sense of shame before the wave of smug 'knowledge' came to them. Let them think what they wanted. They didn't know. They didn't know anything.
     Clive raised an eyebrow but otherwise just shrugged. “Fine. But next week, no later. Alexandra, come read your piece.”
     Murmurs went up through them as I stepped off the platform and went back to my seat. Alexandra glared at me when she passed, bumping my desk as I settled myself. Obviously she wasn't looking forward to standing up there. I didn't blame her. But I did click my teeth together hard when she dislodged a book, and it made her stride just a little bit faster. There was a bit of predatory satisfaction, I will admit.
     Her story was about her imaginary friend as a child, and what it'd be like if she was still around at her current age of 23. It was interesting and I made a note to read it on the discussion board and post some critique for a few awkward phrases. She might not take it to heart but it was worth a shot. And Clive saw who tried to make an effort on the site. Besides, maybe she wasn't so bad about werewolves when she wasn't around everyone else. Most people are decent if you can catch them on their own.  
  There were a few typical announcements at the end of class; what events were on campus for the day, what we had to do next week and who had to share stories. Simple stuff. I tucked my things in my bag and walked out with the rest of them. At least there wasn't a big fuss made at trying to stand away from me or avoid touching me. My kind was seen as stupid, not particularly dangerous. Just like dogs.
     Werewolves aren't the only creatures that have to deal with it, though. The most notable others, who had come out to the public like us and attempted some kind of integration, were the tainted. Blood-drinkers that copped slack for being 'glorified vampires'. And while I saw the comparison and found it amusing, both the tainted and the currently-pondering-if-they-should-be-open-about-their-existence vampires didn't approve of the quip. The tainted had to deal with the harsh stigma of being parasitic killers; they had to drink blood to maintain their immortality, but it was rarely lethal and there was usually an attempt at consent before the bite. Not that biting someone without their content is okay, but saying that most of them were monsters and killers was a bit off base. Besides, with blood drives at donation centres most of them knew better then to try a human bite. Vampires were more prone to killings, and they were getting used to pinning them on the tainted.
     The breeze outside slowly roused me from my musing. The scent of sausage-sizzles and coffee and people was heavy and thick. One of the best and worst things about a university that didn't take itself too seriously; there was always something going on, but sometimes it was a little too much for above-human senses. Though the cooking meat from the walkway and fresh coffee from the surrounding cafes were usually quite pleasant.
     But there was something else.
     I stopped, whirled on the spot and eyed the mass of people behind me. It was there, like a thin wisp of smoke just begging to be followed. It was sunny and clear but the smell was like a city after rain. Thick and oddly warm and fresh. There was a desperate urge to reach out, to find it, to find the mind it belonged to and share it.
  Instead I whined, high and uncertain, before shoving the easy recognition away. No. I was imaging it. I'd walked about the campus for weeks and had never smelt it before. Writing the story had just made me overly sensitive to it, that's all. With that certainty trying to take a firm hold inside me, I kept walking. It wasn't far to home and it'd be a relief to have some quiet.

Home was a simple little unit on a block with half a dozen other units. One bedroom, one bathroom, one combined kitchen and living area. It always smelt mildly wet and stuffy but with the windows open it was harder to notice. But of course that meant whenever my mum came to visit she complained about the cold or the heat or the draft blowing through. I had to smile at the thought. She did it to pester me and I loved it. It was a shame she didn't come around as much as she used to.
   Tossing my keys onto the counter, and cringing at the loud metallic rattling it made, I headed to the bathroom. A shower would do me some good. There was nothing more relaxing then hot water and steam. Except the feeling of a fresh kill in your guts then a hot shower.
     I shook my head with a snort, pulling off my clothes and turning on the water. Maybe it'd been too long since I'd gone out and acted like a wolf. There was plenty of woodland close by to slip in to, with plenty of prey like deer and rabbits. Why did I bother eating meat bought from a supermarket up the road when I could go out and get it fresh for myself?
     Sitting under the water I decided to make a day of it on the weekend. To just disappear into the trees and gorge myself stupid, and bring back a bit of meat if I thought of it or had enough left over. Hunting was allowed for wolves year round as long as we didn't make pointless kills, and the areas for us were far from those designated for humans. Too many accidents happened before we were kept apart, and both parties were at fault.
     After a while the water drumming against my skin drowned out my thoughts, reducing them to nothing but a dull, pleasant hum in the back of my head. It was like being scratched behind the ear or in just the right spot on your neck or back. A sinking into a deep satisfaction. Until my water turned cold. And it felt like rain and the rest came like a flood.
     Jesus it's okay it's okay you look twisted and broken and kinda fucking funny but it's okay you'll be okay?
     Yes? Charlie? Charlie Charlie Charlie you're okay, you'll be okay, just stay still help will come.
     Des? I love you, Des.

     My eyes snapped open and the deafening rain turned back to the softer pour of the shower. I turned off the water. Stayed sitting there in the cold, dripping and miserable, for what felt like a long time. Then I got up, dried off and went to the bedroom. Sleep would be fitful and full of vivid sounds and scents and faces, but it was better then being awake to think about it. Sometimes my dreams were kind enough to let me think about him alive. Charlie. After-rain.
Not a Typical Love Story- Part 1
Never ended up finishing this story, but hey I like it, so here's part of it!

All- SoulfulFable
I could eat him. That'd deal with the problem well enough. I ducked my head and scolded myself for the thought. No, I couldn't. Not without too many consequences. Just because werewolves were accepted in society didn't mean I wouldn't be one of the first suspects if a human student was found disemboweled somewhere. And it's kinda rude to eat your childhood best friend. I should’ve just lived with it and hoped it was over soon.
     Still seemed like the better option. Would give me a meal and get him out of the way. Couldn't smell so good if he was just a rotting pile of bones somewhere in the woods. Could bones rot? Flesh could but did bones, or did they slowly just melt away into nothing? Just another pile of dirt?
     The damn smell snapped me from my musing. That stupid after-rain smell mixed in with inks and paints and stuffy art rooms. I didn't even like art, so why should I like him? Stupid Charlie. Wouldn't even have to be a wolf to kill him. He wasn't scrawny, fine, but he wasn't fit and built with sport-toned muscle either. I could just break his neck or beat in his face or-
     ‘You keep looking at me like I've chopped off your nuts, Desmond.’ He was smiling crookedly at me, that look people get when they want your attention but they're kinda put off by you as well.
     ‘You might as well have,’ I muttered, shoving away from my desk and deciding I didn't need to stay in that class. If he made out the words he made no move to follow, but I felt his eyes against my back long after I was out of his sight. Like a hot itch.

It's raining, we're running. Blood pumping. We're laughing like fools and it's brilliant.

He started trying to talk to me more. Guess I'd put some distance between us he wanted to make up but it only frustrated me. He had to know it was uncomfortable; always made me sit stiff, teeth bared and head jerking when the scent got too much. But he only ever seemed to move closer, to urge me to 'Get past it'. Teachers had taken notice that I ditched class when he talked to me, and instead of taking some pity insisted that education was more important then whatever was going on between us. Told me to put up with it and work for better grades.
     Like any of that would matter if he was dead.

We're of one mind. Sharing and shouting and laughing in our space, our breaths painting the air as we rule the streets.

It had started a few weeks ago. Two months at most. Slowly realising that there was a scent under his normal smells that I was used to. Everyone has one, but it's the scent, the only I'll be drawn to for the rest of my life. No one else will smell that way to my until he dies. And he wouldn't smell that way to anyone else.
     It was gym. I was hiding in the changing room. He was in my class and I just didn't feel up to it. Didn't want to watch him running and chasing and fleeing. There was too much animal in it to keep good reigns on my animal.
     But even there I wasn't left alone. His locker smelt like him. I found myself sitting against it, rubbing my cheek against the cold metal surface as if that could mark it as mine. At least I didn't chew it or claw it, but there wasn't much diginity in trying to scent-mark it either.
     Shouts and joyous whooping told me the others were coming in. With a reluctant sigh I moved away, choosing to sit on a bench and stare down at the floor between my knees. Ignoring everyone I could. There were looks and shared elbow jabs and snide comments made at my stern interest in the floor. Some had probably figured out it by now, but not all humans bothered to learn the tricky little ways wolves worked. Then again the most I bothered to know about humans was that they didn't get the urge to kill the person they wanted. At least not usually before they actually got together.
     Charlie didn't leave as the others started to file out looking forward to lunch, but a few of them slapped his ass and made stupid kissy faces that set me further on edge as they left. He slowly sorted through his locker between cat calls, waiting for the room to be empty before turning to me. His red dreads looked good tired back from his face. Loose and messy, but good all the same, contrasting sharply against his dark skin.
     I focused my gaze on the floor again, fighting the urge to lock eyes and stare back at him. Shouldn't challenge him like a wolf. Shouldn't do a lot of things around him like a wolf.
     ‘Someone keeps taking things from my locker,’ he said, eyes never leaving.
     ‘Why do you think someone would steal my things?’
     I shrugged, turning aside. ‘People are pretty weird.’
     ‘Yeah, pretty weird to be taking my shirts when they probably reek anyway.’ He stepped closer, sighed when I still didn't move, and walked out. ‘Can't even look at me.’
     But his shirts didn't reek. They smelt like after-rain.

His scent's in my head, pulling me and drowning me and I love every minute. He's grinning as he shows me his world full of back streets and graffiti-covered alleys and rain soaked rains. His world of colours and art.

He was following me home. I couldn't stand it but made myself keep walking, made myself stay human.
     ‘Desmond.’ His voice was stupid. Stupidly nice and stupidly good at getting my attention.
     I stopped, head bowed, then looked at him. Looked at his stupidly handsome face. ‘What?’ And of course my voice felt weak and tired.
     ‘You can stop running from me, y'know. Because honestly you're being a little too obvious.’
     I stared at him, for a moment thinking he knew, that he knew everything and I could admit it and be done with it. Have his word he could wait until the bloodlust died down before wanting more from me. But just as quickly I realised he didn't. No. He stood too openly for that. He expected me to say that I was so relieved he knew I wanted to sleep with him. So relieved that he wasn't running away or hating me for it, even though he'd come out years ahead of me so why did that matter? But I couldn't say it. Only stared, jaws tensed and hands clenched.
     He stepped closer, the breeze carrying his scent to me, convincing me to face him squarely despite the saliva it brought to my mouth. ‘I mean, we've all seen you eye guys before. No one cares. And come on, I'd be lying if I said I'd never thought about it.’
     The breeze came again, pulling me into his scent and into the lust and all too close to the desire to kill him. I recoiled, stepping away from him and shaking my head to clear the scent. ‘Charlie, I want to eat you.’
     For a moment he thought it was a stupid flirt. I'd said it before as a joke. But his grin was taken over as the understanding settled. ‘Oh.’
     I nodded, thinking for a moment that we could talk through it like friends, work through it together, but I was already running. I ran to the wood and lost myself in the world of a wolf while desperately wishing that being a wolf made my mind simple.

It's a relief to run beside him, to know that I can, to know he's safe with me. I run beside him, the wolf never gone but knowing the difference between pack and prey.

Charlie wasn't at school for a few days after that. It only have me more time to war with myself over which desire was greater; sex or murder? I wanted it to be sex. That at least was something I could be uncomfortable with, something both sides of me understood and agreed was a good thing to do. And the feeling was apparently quite mutual But murder kept forcing its way into my mind, the idea of sinking teeth into soft flesh and tearing him apart, savouring and enjoying every literal inch of him. And so I wondered how closely linked the two desires were.

We stop behind a little Chinese take-out place. Reckless like the stupid teens we are, kissing and groping and touching in the steam that billows out of the kitchen into the cold night air. No one can see us. We rule this night, we run as a pack and we're invincible.

He seemed different when he came back. More confident around me. More like how he used to be before I went and ruined it. He came and sat straight on my desk, dreads pulled back again, everything about him smelling faintly like pencil shavings as well as after-rain. I wanted to bury my face in his scarf and never give it back.
     ‘I did some research,’ he said, toying with the ends of that delectable scarf but never taking his eyes off me. Sex was winning today, I realised rather absently. ‘And it's okay. You can't help it. But I'd really rather if you went out with me instead.’
     Still I lied, making an effort to breathe through my mouth when I started to feel like I was drowning. ‘I don't like you like that.’ My stomach crawled uncertainly when he rolled his eyes and scoffed, shrugging off my claim. But why should he believe it? We'd spent almost every minute since we were four together.
     ‘I like your deodorant, y'know.’
     I blinked, taken aback by the change in conversation. ‘I, uh, I don't wear any. It hurts my nose.’
     He met my gaze steadily, a rather triumphant smile spreading across his lips. ‘So you just smell like roses to everyone? You sure about that?’
     A large part of me wanted to kiss those lips, to just be thankful that at least he knew that much, he knew about the mutual scent-sharing. A tiny part of me was disappointed that my scent was a flower. But the rest of me still balked at the idea, demanding that I eat him and be done with it and forget about mating and possible love and mind-sharing and whatever else the scent was meant to mean.
     ‘I can't do this, Charlie. I can't...’ I hung my head.
     ‘Well you're sure as hell gonna try. I've smelt roses on you for the last two years, I just didn't know what the hell it meant. Thought I just had a dumb crush. Thought you liked buff guys or something until you started acting iffy around me, that got me a bit suspicious.’ He touched my chin when I still didn't met his eyes, and the feeling and the warmth of it made me look. My chest swelled and I heard rather than felt the awkward, gushing inhale I took at the smile he gave me. So bright. So stupidly handsome. ‘It's hardest on a full moon, right? Controlling it?’
     I nodded, hating were he wanted to take it but finding it hard to summon an objection.
     ‘Next one's in two nights. We're gonna go to the woods. And I'm gonna show you that all that fear is just in your head. You won't eat me, Des. Dogs can't eat chocolate.’
     A smile cracked despite myself. ‘And if I try to?’
     ‘I'll take something silver. For your damn peace of mind. Okay?’
     I had no idea if something small made from silver would work if I was truly trying to kill him, but I agreed anyway. Let it be over.

We take off again and I don't hear it coming. I should, I know I should, but my head is so full of him and his sounds and scents and nothing else matters because we're pack. We're invincible. We're invincible and I don't hear the tires screeching.

The moon was high when he came to my spot in the woods, not that I could see it. Rain fell and thick clouds obscured any glowing light from the moon. I smelt him long before I saw him and tried to suppress whines of anticipation and the urge to get up and stalk him like prey.
     I sat as a wolf. My kind wasn't the half-man, half-wolf type of beast, but the kind that changes into the animal completely. And the animal matches your human height, which made me an opposing sight if I'm not expected; six-foot of well-muscled wolf.
     When he came through the trees he looked at me, fascinated as always but not afraid. He'd seen it all before, of course. We're not inherently violent; being a wolf whenever we wanted wasn't a risk to those around us if we remembered our strength. And didn't want to eat them. When me and Charlie were younger we wrestled like fools when I was a wolf. Sometimes still did before my instincts paraded themselves to the front of my attention.
     He came to stand before me when I didn't move to approach him. I could easily launch forward, kill him, but his eyes held mine and made his challenge clear. He knew it would be hard for me to change back to human from that state, and he wanted me to do it. To approach him in that moment as a human, or destroy us both.
     It hurt. The change never usually did, but that was the most painful shift I had ever known. I had to quell the irrational instinct, and feeling it struggle for freedom only spurred me harder to regain my human shape. If I lost focus and slipped back there was no doubt I would have killed him. But I didn't. And all at once our link was made as I let him in. I stopped guarding my mind so violently and invited him into the animal space and he came to it eagerly. He'd wanted it far longer than I'd known. So we ran, together, in the joy of the mate-mind and the singleness of it and the joy that flowed between us. We decided we'd rule the streets that night.

The sound he makes is so much like a yelp that at first I just laugh harder, thinking it's a game, thinking he's playing.
     But I see. I stop dead in my tracks and turn around and see. The night goes silent, and then the rain deafens me. People get out of the car. The window is cracked and bloody and part of it's caved in. People are crowding around the limp form lying in the road, groaning so minutely I doubt they even hear him.
     His red hair lies in a mess around him like a stain of blood on the water-logged road. His scarf is twisted wrong. His chest is an odd, unfamiliar shape. His legs shouldn't turn the way they d.
     I go to him, kneel with him, and plea not with words but through the link we'd just made, and I beg him to stop it, to come back, to not leave.
     So he does something stupid. He smiles, taking comfort from me that I can't offer him. He drifts. He fades. Then I can't feel him anymore. I stare at him, all too aware of the scents and stints of the streets as the smell I need fades. There's no more after-rain.
Putting this here after forever so my dear can actually read it. Got an award for this!

All- :devsoufulfable:
Finally got around to changing my username to something a bit more relevant. Some places will always be SoulfulInsanity and I'm still stupidly fond of it (the way it sounds and the way it looks), but where I can I've changed it. 
It hadn't been relevant for a long time anyway :)
  • Reading: Winter be my Shield- Jo Spurrier
Finally got around to changing my username to something a bit more relevant. Some places will always be SoulfulInsanity and I'm still stupidly fond of it (the way it sounds and the way it looks), but where I can I've changed it. 
It hadn't been relevant for a long time anyway :)
  • Reading: Winter be my Shield- Jo Spurrier

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Zebresken Featured By Owner Sep 26, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Sooooomeone should tell me who they want drawn for thier birthdaayyy~
SoulfulFable Featured By Owner Sep 27, 2015  Student Traditional Artist
Uhhhhhhhh I'm gonna saaaaaaay Zev, 'cause I wanna see your take on him (with or without Junior, I'm not fussed~) Also I really REALLY have to get a tablet working so I can clean up everything I owe you, I feel so bad!
OtakuEC Featured By Owner Feb 2, 2015  Professional General Artist
Thanks for the fav! Hug
SoulfulFable Featured By Owner Feb 2, 2015  Student Traditional Artist
No problem hun~ 8D
OokamiMonster Featured By Owner Dec 2, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks so much for the +watch! 
SoulfulFable Featured By Owner Dec 2, 2014  Student Traditional Artist
No worries, your art is lovely! 8D
OokamiMonster Featured By Owner Dec 2, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
chaypeta Featured By Owner Jun 25, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Wow... thanks for all the favs. :)  much appreciated.  I wasn't sure that anyone would be interested in my little project.  Thanks again.
SoulfulFable Featured By Owner Jun 25, 2014  Student Traditional Artist
I'd fave anything of yours that popped up to be honest XD But seriously, they're beautiful! A lovely little project, I was mightily impressed =D
Cherno596 Featured By Owner May 11, 2014  Student Traditional Artist
thanks :)
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