Not Today [Trahir, Lancaster]

[Shadis (DELETED 7818)]

Shadis smiled as she spied the door of the Crypt that had become somewhat like a home to her, even though she feared the darkness that lingered within herself. The woman knew that she had Lancaster to help her starve off the darkness, if only for a little while to help her gather her strength before she went about her nights. Her steps came to a stop as her phone began to sing a little tune and she paused long enough to answer it. ”Elena?” The fledgling answered and a chuckled caressed her lips as the blonde on the other end began to speak. It was a time that she was thankful for the thrall, as she was as obedient and loyal as ever, but the vampiress never smothered out the girl’s own light, but rather encouraged it. Asked Elena to see her more as a friend rather than her mistress.

It was at this point however, that she turned upon the spot and spied a man covered with tattoos along his arms, wielding a sword, a katana. Her brown hues widened then, before a cry of pain parted her lips and she felt the tip of the blade sink into her stomach. The phone slipped through her fingers and tumbled to the ground as hands moved towards her stomach while the sharp blade slowly slid away and he stepped back almost as if he was standing back to admire his work, silent all the while. Yet, she couldn’t think past the searing pain, past the red blood that flowed freely from between her fingers. Slowly, her knees buckled, as she grasped for his reasoning, for the why. What had she done to warrant a surprise attack? Then it suddenly dawned upon her, she was a vampire and she was bleeding a great deal of blood. His blade had cut though her like butter and she could see through blurred vision that he was readying himself to hack her head off.

Her knees felt the grass press through her leggings and fear flashed through her just like the sharp edge of his blade as she realized that he was here to kill her, regardless of what she had or hadn’t done. The fear rose its ugly head as she realized that she would meet death once more and the fear made her form freeze and then it happened all within the space of a handful of seconds. The woman didn’t want to die, she didn’t want to go to the Shadow Realm and be lost to its darkness forever. If she died, the woman knew that she would never find her way out, because she would be reduced to nothing. Fear was strong, it had the power to still and it also had the power to empower an individual and a scream parted her lips as she leaned forwards to press her palms to the grass.

Clothes shredded and suddenly, it was as if everything had changed. Nothing was the same as it were. Instead of clothes, she felt fur. As she stood, she stood on four paws instead of hands and knees. Her visage was also of a different height and she stared at the hunter who stood there, frozen in his motions. She had little time to think about the sudden change of form as the hunter seemed to recover and she snarled before she leapt forwards, her jaws snapped closed around his throat. The man’s screamed before his screams gurgled and bubbled, caught within his throat as her form pushed his own back into the ground underneath them. Snarls worked their way up her own throat as she tasted human blood upon her tongue and her teeth tore through skin, flesh and windpipe. Only for her teeth to finally gain a grip and she pulled her head back to rip his throat out.

Golden eyes looked upon the dead hunter and all she could think of was, what have I done? Her jaws let go of the piece of man that she had and lifted her nose towards the night sky as a howl tore through the snowy wolf. As her howls died down, it was at that point that she realized that she had to find Lancaster. She was still bleeding and the darkness threatened to crush her once again; the guilt of killing another, threatened to crush her. So, with slow steps and a lowered, bloody muzzle, she began to limp away from her kill. The white wolf began to limp back into town, to find the one person that would pull her from the darkness that was beginning to overwhelm her…

∞ꭝ∞

Elena had basically all but frozen in her steps, as she had been darting around her room talking to Shadis about her day and reminding her about the ingredients that still had to be found. Then, the human had all but heard Shadis scream and had frozen as the last thing that she had heard was the howl of a wolf. Were there even wolf sightings in Harper Rock? The thought was dashed aside as the thrall remembered what Shadis had told her to do should something happen to her. She hung up and called Lancaster, a number that her mistress had put into her phone herself. The moment that someone picked up, ”Hello? Is this Lancaster?” Elena waited for confirmation before she continued, ”You don’t know me, but I’m Shadis’s thrall and she told me to call you right away the moment that something had happened to her. I don’t know if she is alive, but I heard her scream, a struggle and then… Then I heard a howl. She never picked her phone back up…”

[Trahir Trahison]

He wasn't feeling it. Not that that was saying much given the deadened emotions his Path was known for. The human in front of him was doing everything but try to throw him down and molest him on the dance floor. Every signal was coming from her like the like an overwhelming wave of putrid stench that screamed desperation. Hair was being flicked, twirled on a finger, her head lowered in a seductive gaze, her legs crossing and uncrossing repeatedly as they had spoken. She had laughed at all the jokes he had told, even the ones that weren't funny, touching his leg frequently, leaning in to answer questions.

On the dance floor she had closed in distance without being guided, pressing her body against his as the music thrummed through the room.

She was by any standards attractive, her hair was a fiery mane, er make-up was tactfully done, accentuating pools of emerald that were locked with his own icy gaze. Her body was a perfectly form series of curves that her dress left little to imagine and she moved fluidly and gracefully with him as they danced.

Still, he had decided to try a more Shadisesque approach to feeding this evening and he just wasn't feeling it. He wanted to wrap his hands around her throat, shaking until the vertebrae beneath them cracked and dislodged. He wanted to slam a blade through that soft, radiant skin. He wanted to feel the warm arterial spray washing over his face as he tore into her throat.

"That look is so hot..." the woman said, leaning in, murmuring seductively into his ear. "Want to get out of here?"

She'd asked earlier on what type of place he had. He'd told her he owned several properties around the city. She'd liked that answer after pressing and finding out they were upscale apartments, and a yacht. Trahir hadn't mentioned his farm. He'd had enough trouble from that front of late.

"Yes, lets."

Moments later his fangs are in her, pressed up against the wall of a nearby alley. He'd told her he couldn't wait, had to have her. He'd said the right things, she'd been attracted to the air of danger he gave off. It had been so easy. He let's her go, remembering at the last second to catch her before she hits the ground. Still alive, unharmed, wound sealed.

Trahir, having taken the blood he had wanted from her tosses her arm around his shoulder and reaches into her purse. He pulls out her wallet and his eyes scan her address before slipping it back in place.

It's not long before he is headed back to the crypt, the red-head in a taxi on the way to her home, an apartment she shares with two girlfriends. Alive and well. Something about the entire interaction doesn't sit well with Trahir. He dislikes the thought of her breathing still. She shouldn't be... it feels like a failure on his part.

He doubts Shadis feels the same when she feeds and leaves the victim alive. Does she even think of them as a victim? He'll have to ask her. The scent of blood draws his attention as he approaches the graveyard, disrupting his thoughts of Shadis. Blood. Human blood. It's mixed with... his thoughts go right back to Shadis as he moves forward quickly. A body... Paladin. That doesn't hold his interest as much as the smartphone he kneels down and picks up. It's hers. He glances casually to the hunter, pressing his fingers to the mans throat. Gone.

He pulls the body up with him as he stands, the limp human form dangling in his grasp off the ground and he pulls it against him, licking the gouged wound on the throat, worrying at it until the tacky blood is removed and the liquid stuff oozes slowly forth. He swallows a mouthful of it and closes his eyes.

He sees Shadis, she is talking on the phone, hears the name "Elena" and then a sword, a Japanese Katana appears in his vision, driving into her stomach. Her scream is one of pure surprise and pain, Trahir watches the blade withdraw and ready itself to decapitate her. Then she shifted... Trahir hadn't known she could do that... and the hunters last sight was a blinding flash of white fur and fang.... blackness, the feeling of something pulsing, ebbing, darkness subsuming vision. Everything a world of pain and then... darkness.Blood Memories RP ability

Trahir tosses the body easily over his shoulder, pockets Shadis' phone and gives Nicolette a call from his own. "Turn on the graveyards sprinkler system in five minutes. Evidence wash."

He pockets his own phone and then glances down, reaching out to pluck a stray bit of flesh from the grass before he glances around and becomes a blur of motion using celerity to arrive at the crypt. Stepping inside he watches Nicolette rush past him, heading to the caretakers building to activate the sprinkler system. The Paladin's carcass hits the floor of the western room and Trahir turns to walk away, stopping and turning slowly back while drawing his sword.

These things had a nasty habit of returning from the grave if not dealt with correctly.

He finishes the job with the paladin the same way he would have finished Shadis. His head rolls across the floor.

Another blur of motion and he's back at the scene of the assault, fingers prodding the bloody grass to find the indentations in the soil beneath from paw prints. That coupled with the scent of vampire blood, stale though... not fresh, sends Trahir after Shadis, tracking her as quickly as he can without losing the trail.

He pulls out her phone and hits callback. He needs to find out from Elena any information he can. Behind the vampire, the sprinkler system begins to hiss and sputter.

ooc note: Trahir's part of the RP continues here for the phone call.

[Lancaster]

Song + Attire

The stage had once again become Lancaster’s playground.

It had taken weeks of drunkenness and despair, of constant company from his progeny, adopted and non. It had taken one conversation with an old friend, and a phone call from his errant other half to calm him. He’d settled back into the muck and mire of life, the drudgery of routine, losing himself in his businesses in order to distract himself from what he was missing.

Why couldn’t she have taken him with her?

And yet, he had to stop asking himself that question. He had to stay; he had to watch whatever flock was left, and a fingernail to the pulse of the city and its treacherous politics. Shadis had suggested it, once, and it was a grain that had stuck in his brain, one that slowly sprouted roots, but was even slower to grow. An idea could not bloom without the sunshine to nurture it, and the idea of putting himself in any position of power, in the public eye, filled Lancaster with a peculiar kind of dread. And yet, the roots were there. As much as he loathed Doc, the man was right. Lancaster ranted and railed against the things he disagreed with, but barely lifted a finger to change anything. He was a coward, who wished to stay home and indulge in creature comforts.

The main creature comfort had fled the coop, though. Maybe it was time, without her, to do something meaningful.

For now, though, Lancaster instead took hold of his inspiration; it had been such a fleeting thing, a non-existent thing, that he had to grab while he had it, and hold on for dear life. The night that he’d come staggering down those stairs declaring that he had a masterpiece – if he’d played it then, he would have mangled it. It would have died a slow death. And yet, it had been a start. It was something that he fine-tuned, refined, until it was perfect.

It was this song that serenaded the crowd; it didn’t matter if the music wasn’t their style, they were wooed anyway, drawn to his voice like rats to the melody of Piper’s pipe.

…I’ve been humming the theme to a re-run of your heartbeat…
…I say baby, I feel so obsolete now…

He stood on the stage with just his guitar; he rarely had a band with him. He was a lone piper, and he preferred it that way, sometimes. His voice was deep, melancholic, infused with all the emotion he had bottled in for so long. He’d bottled it because there’d been nowhere else for it to go. But now he had the music back, he had an outlet.

You left a note saying that ‘I’ve gone out looking for you’,
But what makes you can find what I just made sure to lose?
Don’t make it any hard now, for me to disappoint you…


Oh baby, I’m going to be someone you can give up on.
And if you need me, I’ll be in the past,
Just waiting around in your old photographs.
You can always rely on me to… to never be…

He kept playing the acoustic a rapid beat beneath his fingertips. Soon the song ended to fair applause; applause that Lancaster thanked, modestly, with an equally modest bow, before he switched back to the juke box and off the stage. On his way back to the bar, his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. Checking the screen, he saw that it was Shadis. He immediately answered, lifting the phone to his ear; before he could get much of a word in, he was greeted by an unfamiliar voice on the other end.

If he’d had any blood in his face, it would have drained. His course toward the bar was abandoned, instead he made a bee-line for the exit.

”Where are you? Where did you see her last?” he asked. He wasn’t much of a tracker, but he would do his best.

[Shadis (DELETED 7818)]

One paw came through and forwards and slowly, she limped forwards. Her white fur was stained with red and the liquid even matted her beautiful coat. Some might say that it was slowing the bleed even though she bled profusely and wasn’t sure just as to how she had gotten as far as she did. Shadis just knew that she had killed someone. It was kill or be killed and her own fear had risen up to claim the decision to live, which had meant that she had to kill another for her own survival. It had even changed her form, however that had happened, she wasn’t sure. It was the first that she had, seen except for the simple fact that Trahir had always been able to change his nails into claws. Although, she had killed someone, a human that wouldn’t be coming back from the grave. The fledgling had lunged after shifting and torn out his throat. She could still hear the gurgling sounds as he choked on his own blood.

Blood, thick, fat drops fell to land upon the pathed ground, a path that led her to Lancaster’s Bar where she had last seen her sire. The woman at this point was working on auto-pilot, simply because her mind kept going over the event. She could see her own widened brown eyes reflected within the man’s blade as he pulled it out from her stomach slowly. It had been as if he had enjoyed catching her off guard and stabbing her through the stomach. If he hadn’t of attacked, if he hadn’t of felt the need to threaten her very life with that sword, he would still be alive. Why, why did he have to attack? The wolf needed to rest, as while adrenaline still ran through her body, it was being smothered by shock, fear and guilt. It was during this line of thinking, that she realized that due to her movements, her healing abilities were slow. It was happening, but she just wasn’t giving her body enough time to properly heal.

How far have I come? She asked herself as her steps slowed, but she couldn’t tell. All she did know was that she had been traversing down many streets, looking for that one place that she knew where Lancaster was. He would know, he would know why she changed, why the hunter attacked and help her to fix her wound. He had helped her in the past with them, this she could guarantee. Plus, she always knew she could rely upon him to give her a comforting hand whenever she needed it the most. As it was, she had been returning from a conversation with him earlier on that night. A conversation that revealed to her that he cared about her, his childe. So, as it was, he was her fall back plan, the one to go to when everything went sideways for her. Trahir… She didn’t really know. The woman didn’t know if he truly cared about her or simply saw her as a possession. If she died, would it matter to him?

Dim lights flickered over her white form and she was glad that it was late in the night for most humans, as most of them would be asleep. So she moved within the shadows as best as she could until she saw the bar in sight. How could she approach it? How could she go in as she was? She asked herself before she found herself lying down to rest her bloodied muzzle in her front paws. The wolf had situated herself against a shadowed wall which was across the street from Lancaster’s Bar. Shadis had to rest, she had to let her own healing abilities kick in, otherwise she would continue to slowly bleed. Perhaps she could just wait and the changed form would eventually wear off and she would return to her normal self? Pain still bloomed through her stomach and as her golden eyes focused upon the door to the Bar. Did Lancaster know? Did Trahir know and cared enough to find her? What about the man she had killed? Was there any way they she could have not killed him? To the looking eye, anyone would be able to see the white wolf lying against the shadowed wall, if anyone had been looking that was.

∞ꭝ∞

Elena couldn’t help the fear that had sent her in panicked mode at Lancaster’s questions, she didn’t know any of that. Her mistress’s business was her own, Shadis only told her things that was relevant to tasks that she had to do and that was all. Mostly because her mistress wanted her to lead a normal life without too much darkness staining her every day to day. ”I… I don’t know. I’m at my room but I was on the phone to her when it happened. I call her often to make sure she doesn’t get lost inside her work. She often has me calling her to remind her of appointments or when the sun will be rising shortly so she can get back to the crypt in time. I just know, that she told me to call you whenever something had happened to her. You were her back up plan. If anything, she would be going to you and your Bar.” The thrall paused to take a breath, ”I hope you don’t mind, but I need to hang up now, just in case Shadis calls me. Slim, but I just want to be ready if she does.” With that the thrall hung up the phone so she would be ready from her Mistress to call if she ever did.

Side Note: A phone conversation between Elena and Trahir happened shortly after she hung up the phone with Lancaster. [Phone Conversation]

[Trahir Trahison]

The subway ride there seemed to take place in slow motion. The humans fidgeted, rubbing noses, scratching crotches, sniffling, shifting their feet, blinking and adding a million different little meaningless gestures to the trip. Trahir held onto the vertical handrail with an iron grip. His eyes were unfocused, none of the common human gestures were bothered with. His feet were firmly planted, damned near rooted in the spot. No breath came from his lungs. His chest did not heave and fall. His eyes did not even move about to survey the others sharing the subway car with him. His focus was on what he had seen, what Elena had said on the phone.

The mortals around him were at best, nothing but food to the Killer. At worst they were potential threats, hunters in the making. At this point though, the latter would have been a welcome distraction. Something to thrust his instincts to the forefront, to wipe away these feelings of doubt. Shadis was hurt. His Shadis was hurt. It barely mattered that he had finished the job on the Paladin she may or may not have killed. His Shaids was out there.

The train seemed to take forever, the great grey worm winding itself through the tunnel which was it's eternally ordained path, it's curse. Like him he was sure if it has any semblance of consciousness it would feel like it's path was already a given. Both he and the subway could only go round and round until finally something stopped their eternal circling.

Lancaster, Shadis' sire. Sires were known to be unstable at times, fiercely protective of their get. The name was one Trahir remembered hearing about when he sent his own offspring to work in the same bar he was heading to. The vampire was surely his elder. He wondered if the tracks of his own requiem would be shifted this night, redirected into the Shadow Realm...

The train stopped finally and the Killer disembarked . The potential for violence mattered little, the potential lethality of the situation on either end mattered less. His Shadis was injured and to him, right in that moment, that mattered.

[Lancaster]

The musician couldn’t exactly be angry with Elena; if someone asked Roxette about Lancaster’s movements, she wouldn’t really know either – except that she had been his thrall for nearly five years and to anyone who knew Lancaster for that long, they’d know he was rather predictable. The girl sounded shaken, and Lancaster hoped that she was just overreacting. That whatever she’d heard sounded worse than it was, and Shadis would just walk around the corner, good as new. Elena said she thought Shadis would be heading to the bar – it caused Lancaster to pause outside the front doors, the wind fingering his hair, his gray eyes sweeping the road left and right.

There were many ways that Shadis could make her way back to Lancaster’s. She could walk; she could go through the backdoor and straight upstairs; or she had a tome that would take her to the den, from which she could take a portal that would land her directly in the Lancaster’s office. There was nothing more that Lancaster could do but wait; he didn’t have the requisite skills to track. He couldn’t focus on his childe and immediately know where she was. He couldn’t do rituals. He could speak directly into her mind, but what use was that if she didn’t have the ability to answer?

He’d wanted to question Elena further. Surely, there was more that she could tell him? The girl might have known something without knowing it. She could have told Lancaster something that would have helped him. Instead, she hung up, and Lancaster had to try to figure it out on his own.

In the third sweep left to right, he caught sight of the wolf across the road. If it wasn’t white, he might have missed it. It might have blended into the surrounding shadows. Except, it was white, and the fur was matted with blood. At first his heart lurched; his feet took him forward as soon as the road was clear for no other reason except that Pi often liked to shift into a white wolf. He thought that Pi had come back. Common sense told him that no self-serving wild wolf would come this far into the city, and he doubted that a wild wolf would just be laying there, unless it was dead.

The closer he got, the more he understood that the wolf was not Pi. Maybe it was smaller, or there was something distinctly different about its features. Or maybe it was just the scent of the blood. Lancaster might not have been a tracker, but he could still differentiate people by their scent. And this was not Pi. As soon as he was close enough to catch a whiff of it, he knew that it was Shadis; she’d come to him before with wounds that needed fixing, bleeding profusely. He knew what his own childe’s blood smelled like. Not to mention, the emotions he felt rolling from the animal were not exactly those of an animal.

”You’re alright. I got you,” he said, mumbling to the wolf as he leaned down to encourage the creature into his arms. He’d take her around the back and head upstairs that way, so as not to draw too much attention from those in the pub.

[Shadis (DELETED 7818)]

Guilt was the strongest emotion of all, she felt it begin to eat at her from the inside out as she watched Lancaster exit the bar. Her own sire had believed that she wouldn’t take a life and yet, she had, in order to save her own. The fear of dying was still present, but not so much now that she knew Lancaster would see her, now that she knew that she was safe with her sire. What could she tell him? That she had killed someone? That he was wrong and that she had already traversed down a dark path? Was it already too late for her? A whine made its way up as Lancaster crossed the road, as he leaned down and mumbled words of comfort to her. Did he truly know that it was she? How could he know when she was a wolf and not how she normally was? A vampire.

Slowly, she struggled to her paws as whimpers worked their way up while pain bloomed through her body. Whatever healing her body had managed to do while lying down, had torn. She lowered her muzzle as she drew in quick breaths while her golden hues watched her sire. Did he know? Did he know that she had killed another? Her legs shook with the effort to remain standing. She was tired and now that the adrenaline had left her body, it seemed as if all of her energy was sapped from her. How long had it taken her to get to Lancaster's? How long had she remained bleeding for? Did Trahir even notice that she wasn’t back at the Crypt by now? Did he even care. A whine came forth as her golden eyes pleaded with Lancaster to understand. The blood that stained the white upon her muzzle was not her own, nor vampiric, it was human.

Her paws moved towards Lancaster at a slow limp as she tried not to whine every time that she moved and stretched the wound that the paladin had made. The whole effort to close the gap between her and her sire, felt draining. As soon as she reached him, her legs didn’t want to keep her up anymore and she collapsed before him. She lifted her head then and gently placed it within his hand, but not before she gave it a quick lick. He had come outside and from what she had seen, he had been searching. Elena had done what Shadis had told her to do. She had called him, the woman confirmed tiredly to herself. It felt as if she had gone through a war zone. A battle of her physical and mental state. While her body would heal, she wondered if her mental state would.

’I killed someone,’ were the words that kept being repeated inside of her mind. It weighed heavily upon her consciousness as Shadis had given in to fear. Fear was the reason why she had killed him, fear was the reason that had her shifting and fear was the one that had her ripping the man’s throat out. However, she couldn’t blame it upon fear, because that fear was her own, regardless. The wolf could still taste the man’s blood upon her very tongue, could still remember as her teeth had sunk into his throat only to rip and tear at the soft fleshy area. She could feel his warm blood and hear him scream, gurgle and then choke upon his own blood. It was a horrible way to die and it had been done with her own teeth. Did that make her a monster? Was she a monster? A soft whine was given then, almost in a plea to Lancaster to understand. She had failed him, failed his trust that she wouldn’t kill.

[Trahir Trahison]

Stepping from the station, thoughts of death consuming his mind, the Killer pauses. Forcing the thoughts of death and the Fade from his immediate thoughts he focuses, trying to catch a scent, trying to catch a visual clue... anything... anything. His eyes narrow. It's not a scent. it's nothing he sees. He feels something. It's something he doesn't like. It's the same feeling as when Velveteen lectured him about being a part of the team, about not making decisions that could get the rest of Tytonidae dragged into a war. Only it's infinitely more powerful... infinitely powerful and invasive. The Killer stops mid-step, shuddering, a hand reaching out to catch a stop sign is all the prevents him from collapsing in the middle of the street.

His mind reels, the taste of blood, human, familiar fills his mouth for an instant... The hunter... not possible...

A hand touches his shoulder. A pulse thrums through the material of his jacket, throught his shirt. "Huh b...d..eee u .. keh?" Gibberish. His mind still reeling he turns. Looking into the face of a man, concern all over his features.

"Hey, buddy, you okay???"

Trahir stares at the man, partially in shock, overwhelmed by the feelings being forced into his head. He wants to cry, the world feels hopeless. He did wrong. Very wrong... He feels shame...

The vampire sinks to his knees as he pushes the human back weakly.

Weakly throws the man to the ground, sending him skidding a few feet.

Trahir tries to collect his thoughts. Everything is hazy, not all his. He feels... injured, ashamed... guilt? Is that what this is? Forcing himself to regain some semblance of composure he looks around for another of his kind, someone forcing this reaction on him and sees nothing....

His eyes turn toward the bar. It made sense suddenly. Lancaster... her sire was doing this... Rising to his feet, still unsteady Trahir ignores the protests of the man he had shoved, the one who had showed concern and he starts walking toward Lancaster's. Every footstep feels like lead. Determination drives him. Determination and something much, much colder.

[Lancaster]

Yes, Lancaster could smell the blood that did not belong to a vampire. Vampire blood smelled different; it was colder, somehow, like a strong breeze coming off the ocean tainted with something dark and merciless, otherworldly and unnatural. And yet, it was the scent that Lancaster was drawn to. It was the taste that he liked best. A taste that he hadn’t had ever since Pi had left the city. The relic he’d spent a pretty penny on quashed any thirst that he might have had. Blood was no longer a requirement. He’d even started eating like a regular person – dinner, dessert. Maybe a little something just before dawn, to serve as breakfast. If it weren’t for the fact that they never saw him during the day, to any regular person Lancaster would appear to be entirely human.

The wolf was wounded, and it was the freshness of the wolf’s blood had overwhelmed the scent of the human blood. Now that Lancaster was close enough, he could smell it. He was curious, but he didn’t any questions. Not when the creature kept whining at him, not when she seemed about ready to collapse as soon as he scooped her up into his arms.

It didn’t matter if she was wolf or woman, the weight may as well have been the same. Lancaster was able-bodied and far stronger than he looked. Although he did get a few strange looks from the smokers lingering outside of the pub, he just smiled and nodded his head – like he carried injured wolves home every night, to patch them up and keep them warm.

One of the chefs, Ryan, was out the back having a smoke when Lancaster rounded the corner. He took a step back as soon as he saw the seemingly wild animal in Lancaster’s arms, arched a brow, and let loose a low whistle.

“That’s one hell of a stray, man,” he said, clearly not too keen on getting close to the wolf. Some of the wolves in the wilderness around the city could be pretty savage if you got too close, and they weren’t too easy on the poultry, if one chose to try to keep a farm. Ryan, like every other employee of Lancaster’s, knew his boss to be a bleeding heart type. Someone who couldn’t help but help the sick and wounded, no matter who – or what – they were. Lancaster just laughed.

”Yeah yeah. Judge me all you like, Somerville. I’m taking her upstairs,” he said, and didn’t wait to have a conversation with Ryan. He just went straight in, headed for the stairs that would take him up through the Backpackers, and further up still, to the private apartment that was his little bachelor pad. Well, it felt like a bachelor pad these days, even if he did still wear that Amaranthine ring on his wedding finger.

”We’re nearly there,” he said to Shadis.

”I don’t know if this has happened to you before – but it’s normal,” he had to laugh. Had he just said that turning into an animal was normal? ”It’ll wear off, eventually. In no more than twenty-four hours, unless you focus,” he said. The times that he himself shifted were few and far between, and he’d lost the knack. But he knew it got easier with practice, and with time. In the beginning he couldn’t control it, but now he could with whim, and intent. All she had to do was focus.

[Shadis (DELETED 7818)]

Shadis felt Lancaster’s arms surround her form before she was lifted up into them. A whimper was issued, before she rested her muzzle upon his shoulder, her golden hues closing as the wolf relaxed within her sire’s arms. Trust, she trusted him even in the moment that she was unsure as to what was happening to her. Even though she felt guilt eat away at her like some plague, Lancaster was there to soothe at least some of the guilt that she felt. The wolf felt every step that the vampire took and every nod of his head as it brushed against her fur. If she had been thinking clearly, she would have realised just as to how odd, the pair may have looked to the humans. To see a grown man, carry what only their minds could perceive as a wild wolf. Wolves were known for attacking a person upon sight instead of allowing a person to come right up to them to give them a pat. It was, why they were considered feral.

If only they knew that she wasn’t truly a wolf, but a vampire that could apparently turn into one whenever she felt fear. Whispered a thought inside of her mind as she resisted the urge to wriggle within the man’s arms to lick at the wound that was so desperately trying to heal. A whistle was heard and a flicker of her ear was given as all she wanted to do, was sleep. However, as she listened to Lancaster, she realised that the wolf whistler, must have been someone that he knew. Why? Because of Lancaster’s easy going response, or maybe it was just simply because he used a name. Ryan. Ryan that called the wounded wolf in Lancaster’s arms, a stray. A wolf as a stray was an interesting line of thinking really.

The familiar smell of the pub surrounded her and her ears lowered, although they flickered back to Lancaster at the sound of his voice as he spoke once more. He didn’t speak to anyone else this time, rather he spoke to her. She realised this when he spoke about being nearly there. Was he taking her to the room that she had woken up in after her attempt at suicide? Golden hues flickered open to note the familiar passageway and she was about to close her eyes once more when he spoke yet again. This was normal? This change was normal? How was this normal? How could she even focus when she was so laden down with guilt, guilt over the death of a human? The human may have been a hunter and meant to kill her, but she had still killed him to save herself. Thoughts of the death continued to run rampant within her very own mind, that was, until she caught the scent of a familiar person.

Ears flickered forwards then as she began to wriggle within Lancaster’s arms, yelping as she tore the wound once more. Trahir was here, in the Bar. Had he been looking for her? Or had he just been within the general area and scented her? If she could tell her sire that Trahir was there, if she could have put words to her wants, she would have. Instead, she squirmed within his arms, regardless of the fact that she was placing more strain upon her wound and her exhausted mind and body. Shadis had said that the two would meet, but she didn’t think that it would happen under circumstances where she couldn’t convey words. Words which only turned into yelps and whines. She had to stay like this for twenty-four hours without being able to run interference if something went wrong happened between her sire and Trahir? The wolf felt fear begin to seep back into her mind once more, fear tinged with worry.