InsaneJournal

Who: Kirk Alden & Tess Graham.
What: The full moon occurred the previous night ... and that's all that Kirk remembers about it.
When: Morning after the full moon.
Rating: R
Status: Complete.

The days after a full moon were always a little on the rough side for Kirk. Despite having been a lycan the entirety of his life, the transformation often took a lot out of him now. Before going to Iraq, the shifting from his human form to his wolf was something that was just a part of his life, and often not trying in any degree when the moon held its sway. But upon arriving home from his tour of duty, and after having suffered years of blackouts, the full moon could sometimes render him exhausted and weaker the following day. It was never anything terribly debilitating, but on those days he did prefer to just lay low and nurse the headache and the slightly aching muscles that he inevitably received. It was something that he had gone through and experienced for over one hundred years, and aside from his blackout phase, which had ended a few years ago, there was nothing out of the ordinary about the process (well, from the standpoint of a werewolf).

That is, until the night previous.

Kirk woke up slowly, his eyes slowly blinking open, watching the sunlight filter in through the leaves on the trees. Groaning, he covered his eyes and rolled over onto his back, letting out a sound of discomfort as a tree root dug into his back. Realization dawned that he was outside, and his eyes flew open as he removed his hand from obscuring his vision. He was in the woods, or what would classify for words in the little subdivision he lived in, he recognized that much. Sitting up slowly, his eyes scanned his immediate area.

He hadn't remembered arriving there.

The more Kirk thought about it, the more worried he became, as he hadn't remembered arriving there amongst the trees. Standing up carefully, he held onto a nearby tree to aid him in slowly finding his feet. Kirk was able to piece together bits of the previous evening, but it had all been before he'd actually changed. He recalled going down to the living room and moving furniture in anticipation of changing, just in case, and then ... and then ... and then waking up in the forest. Kirk whirled around, attempting to gauge his exact location so that he could get home. The woods ran close enough to his house that he didn't run the risk of anybody seeing him. He hadn't blacked out since roughly a year before his release from prison, and the painful memories of what he'd done the last time he blacked out prior to being incarcerated hit him in the gut with enough force to render him breathless momentarily.

Turning in the direction of home, Kirk caught sight of his hand just within the peripherals of his vision and stopped in his tracks. There was dried blood on his palm, and after inspection of his body some on his chest and legs as well - none of which was his own. Taking a deep breath, he attempted to calm himself. It was just an animal. It was just an animal. It was just an animal. As he got closer to his house, he was relieved to find a deer - or what was left of it. Inspecting it closely, he was able to pick up his own scent on it, and breathed a sigh of relief. While the fear of having hurt someone went away, there was a lingering fearfulness that he couldn't remember what had happened.

Upon arriving home, Kirk stood in the entryway to his living room, surveying the little bit of destruction that he had caused. It wasn't too bad, but a chair by the window had obvious bite and slash marks from his fangs and claws in it, and he'd knocked his bookcase over, leaving texts and photo albums strewn across the floor. He ran a hand through his hair and heaved a heavy sigh, then grabbing his jeans off of the floor and putting them on, before moving to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee to clear his mind do he could begin to wrap it around what had happened.