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Post by rupert george wilfred gibbard on May 1, 2013 22:09:37 GMT
 I hated sleep, we just didn't get on. And that was why I found myself out of the house at 4:30am, not entirely certain when the last time I'd slept was which was only a little worrying. Besides, sleeping was never something I looked forward too; ninety-nine percent of the time I would be plagued by vivid nightmares that I'd rather not talk about.
This time of day was my favourite because, in the spring and summer months, it was light enough for me to feel comfortable and there was next to nobody out of bed. I never stayed out in the open for long anyway, it wasn't as if anyone would spot me. Today I was going to visit another of my favourite hiding spots, this one was a bit like a den of sorts - I'd constructed it with my brother a while back. Being inside made be feel protected. And although it was small, it was still pretty cosy too... but there wasn't any room to move in it.
My feet dragged across the sand as I wandered towards my tiny cavern. Everything seemed oddly serene, I liked it but I wasn't taking in my surroundings fully; I was too tired for my mind to function as it normally would. Part of me was worrying that I wouldn't be alert enough to realise if I got attacked but, for the most part, I didn't have enough effort to care too badly. It was nice.
There was a lump. There was a lump in my den. As per usual, my mind jumped to Torsten and his associates immediately because that was the most logical explanation for this. I cried out in frustration and kicked up a load of sand. Was it too much to ask for a few hours of peace in my special place? Why did these people have to ruin things for me when I least expected it? Suddenly, my frustration overwhelmed my initial fear so I didn't run, I don't think I would've been able to since I felt so worn out.
I glared at the lump for a few long moments. Then I shrieked loudly at it, "Why do you always have to mess up everything?"
 Outfit: Clicky! ♒ Notes: *dying noise* ♒ Tagged: Danyul!
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Post by daniel alec tatham on May 9, 2013 19:04:01 GMT
 Daniel had never told anyone what his 'wolf stuff' really entailed, but basically it involved running around in deserted places in the middle of the night, howling at the moon and getting rid of any of the emotions that he'd built up since the last time he'd shifted. He always tried to get home after he'd finished wolfing, but sometimes these things couldn't be helped and he'd end up not quite making it back before sunrise like he intended.
That night was a pretty good example of one of those times; he hadn't meant to curl up after running around and fall asleep as a wolf, but these things happened. Besides, it was unlikely anyone would come by before the sun woke him up later, anyway. In fact, it had just started getting light, but he wasn't prepared to get up yet. It was still ridiculously early- it couldn't have been much later than 4.30- and he could probably get in another hour's sleep or so before he forced himself to get up and head back to Brent's house, where he was likely to go straight back to sleep until he was shouted at to get up.
Daniel could hear that there were footsteps coming closer while he was drowsing- they were amplified, what with his wolfy hearing and the way that they rebounded off the walls of the little cave he was resting in- but he basically figured it was a sort of dream-sound or something. No-one would be up this early, surely? Not within reason. Or, at least that was what Dan had thought until he was rudely awakened by a loud shout-scream, which was even louder than normal and really hurt his ears. The wolf's fur prickled against his spine and he sprang up, his ears flattening in both surprise and anger.
A thrill of fear ran through Dan; there was a reason he avoided people when he was doing his wolf stuff. Not only did it mean he was less likely to scare anyone, it was safer for him; the teen was yet to get through a meeting with anyone while he was in his wolf form which hadn't involved him either killing them or causing them near-fatal wounds. He was scared for this man- at least he thought it was a man, although he hadn't taken the time to stop and observe- becuase he couldn't promise what the outcome of this would be, although he could pretty much guarantee it woudn't be pretty.
Despite the fact he fought with his primal instinct, it won without a struggle, and a feral sense overtook him, clouding his sense. He coudl no longer think clearly, but the one thought that was lucid was extremely clear; hurt. Hurting was... good. Dan took a step forward, a growl resonating from his throat. He couldn't be held responsible for his actions any more.
 Outfit: Clicky!
Notes: oh jeez
Tagged: Roo!
Credit: Connie :3
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Post by rupert george wilfred gibbard on May 14, 2013 19:53:13 GMT
My outburst was unexpected, even to me. That wasn't my usual response to Torsten and anyone or anything that was unfortunate enough to relate to him somehow. Running and hiding and doing nothing but being permanently scared seemed to be driving me insane and I knew I wasn't exactly the most normal of people but I still had my sanity. Of course I did. However, dealing with all of this did take it's toll and it was reaching a point where I'd had enough of reacting in my usual way. That could've had something to do with how I'd been badly neglecting my own needs for the past day or so too which tended to make me more jumpy.
Hot tears of frustration and pure fear wetted my cheeks and tinged my skin pink. I felt them slide down my neck too. They felt horrible. I didn't like crying. It was gross to think how this liquid had been inside my body with a load of other disgusting stuff and now it was dirtying my skin - not to say that I was particularly clean on the outside in the first place. I was used to it but at the same time I wasn't. The violent sobs that ricocheted through my whole body in waves of emotions left me unbalanced and feeling dizzier. I should've eaten. I should've slept. I should've washed. Then I wouldn't be stood here; vulnerable and tired and lonely and feeling so, so sick of myself and Torsten that all I could do was try and calm myself enough to breathe.
When the lump sprang up I saw it was a dog or something similar. Torsten's dog, perhaps? Not perhaps. It had to be. My cave had been discovered by him - I'd never be able to hide out there again! The creature reminded me of Torsten because it looked so rawly angry. It was frightening how it's ears had flatten and it's fur was now stood on end, making it look larger than it had done previously. My sobs quietened but my breaths came in quick, ragged bursts. As the dog took a step towards me and let out a menacing growl I visibly jumped in alarm but was too scared to move away. I bit my lip so hard that I could taste my own blood as it stained my tongue red and glanced around for help. The beach was completely empty. In other words, the sand would have to be my make-do deathbed. It worried me that I found that oddly desirable. On the other hand, I didn't want Torsten to be the cause of my death after everything he'd put me through. It seemed that, by panicking, I'd created quite a complex dilemma for myself; I could run, fight or sacrifice my life. Arthur wouldn't mind, would he? It wasn't as if I was a good big brother, I was a terrible one. That's right, I'd been observant enough to work that out on my own.
Outfit: Clicky! ♒ Notes: *dying noise* ♒ Tagged: Danyul!
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Post by daniel alec tatham on May 15, 2013 6:27:57 GMT
There were certain things about being a wolf that made it so much nicer than being human. Your sight was heightened; the colours were slightly different, but everything was clearer. Your hearing was improved- you were faster, stronger. You could smell everything so much more easily, and you could smell the fear waft off your prey. Like he could now.
Inching forward, in such a predatory stance that if he dipped any lower in his prowl that he'd fall over, Dan let another warning growl rumble from his throat. He wanted this man to be terrified- he wanted this man to know that he stood no chance in winning. Dan always won, and there were no exceptions to that rule. Stopping, the wolf cocked his head in an almost curious way, which would have looked far more adorable if his face wasn't tensed up by the permanent snarl he had raised there. This wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting from the man. Why wasn't he running? He wasn't screaming: he wasn't even crying any more. The only sign this man was even worried at all was his shortness of breath. In the end, Dan decided it didn't matter. After all, prey was prey in the end.
Slowly circling around the man, he could smell blood; the man must have bitten his lip. Could he have been any more stupid? He was basically just giving himself up, right there. The feral side of him told him to go now, and rip this man apart, but the colder side, the tactician, told him to wait, to draw this out for as long as he could. He wanted this man to feel his death: it shouldn't be quick. Let him bleed out onto the floor, and let it hurt. Hurt was good. Letting the fur ripple up his spine, Dan tensed, ready to spring at any moment, ready to attack. A final snarl ripped from his throat, a continuous rumble that refused to stop. This man must know his end was coming. He had to know by now.
Outfit: Clicky!
Notes: oh jeez
Tagged: Roo!
Credit: Connie :3
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