Fenrir thinks you're pretty when you cry. (unmuzzled) wrote in an_ill_wind, @ 2009-05-28 09:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | - 1980/05 may, fenrir greyback |
Who: Fenrir Greyback & misc. werewolves.
When: Early morning Thursday, 28 May, 1980; directly after this.
Where: Devon, England.
What: The beginnings of an Army.
Rating: Mm, R for sexual themes.
Status: Completed narrative.
Fenrir could not say he was particularly pleased with how tonight was going. Some, yes. If everything went according to plan - and despite some misgivings, he was more or less confident that they would - Remus would run with him on the full. It meant a change of pace for him and for the wolf. No humans, likely not turning anyone unless they came across travellers. But it was a process, Fenrir knew. He doubted Remus had ever run with one of his own kind and it could be a mind opening experience. For now though, he couldn't afford to think on it too much. One step at a time, and with his plans for the full moon changed, he had to hurry. It was already dark outside, closing in on midnight. His original intentions had been to approach this pack on the full moon to avoid any of this messy discussion. But he was sure he could still pull this off. Challenging another alpha for a pack was dangerous, but Fenrir couldn't wait much longer, not for this one. It might help that he knew this one. What was his name? Caleb, yes. Younger, in his late twenties. Not as large as Fenrir, but an attitude that reeked of arrogance. And so, Fenrir apparated with a crack directly from his meeting with young Remus to the network of caves that housed the relatively large community of werewolves in Devon. Caleb had long held this pack in check despite numerous fights for dominance over the years. Fenrir was not fool enough to underestimate him, but he had to move quickly. As he stalked through the encampment, several werewolves looked up from what they were doing. Many shrank back, the aggressiveness of the newcomer almost baking off of him. Many of these people had been werewolves for years, had lost their humanity in most forms. They would be useful, Fenrir knew. He was met with no resistance until he passed a slightly younger male, in his early twenties. He was almost tall enough to level himself with Greyback, short only by an inch or so. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?!" he called, springing to his feet. Thick, Scottish accent and he took several long strides toward Fenrir. Fenrir was having none of it. Beta rank, he was sure, and likely one of the ambitious ones that thought they were some day, going to usurp the power of their alpha. Fenrir rounded on him angrily, drawing himself up taller, bigger. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and a wolf like snarl tinged his voice. "Where is your alpha?" he demanded. Several faces turned in their direction and the younger man stopped in his tracks, taken entirely off guard by the display of dominance. To the surprise of many (Fenrir could feel the shudders in the room), his would-be challenger backed down. A step back, eyes on the ground, slightly slouched. Good, Fenrir thought, still glaring angrily at him. The younger wolf said nothing, but instead shifted his gaze down a tunnel, flicked back to Greyback's face and then back to the ground. The message was clear. Fenrir pushed past him and down the tunnel and yes, there he was. White blond hair he would recognise anywhere. He was lounged around a fire, speaking quietly with a pretty young female. They felt the change in atmosphere almost immediately and both snapped their heads in their intruder's direction. Caleb pounced to his feet, took several aggressive steps toward his challenger. Fenrir didn't budge. For a long moment, they both stood stone still, eyes boring into each other as they were almost toe to toe. There didn't have to be any words. And Fenrir knew he would have to be the one to initiate violence. He was willing to kill this man and it showed. But Caleb wasn't about to give up his pack without a fight, and so, in that moment, the world might have stopped revolving. It was a freeze frame of tension so thick, Fenrir felt like he was breathing it. And then he sprang into action. In a split second, Caleb collided with a wall of rock. So it began. Fenrir didn't know how long. He was nearly oblivious to the blows the younger wolf was landing. It was dark in the caves, save for the glow of a fire here and there, but he could feel the eyes of the pack as the pair of them beat each other right out of the caves, landing in a heap in the dirt outside. By the glow of the moon, Fenrir's teeth sank deep into the arms and shoulders, back, sides, anything he could reach in the struggle. Blood bathed his tongue, stuck to his scruff of beard and it wasn't until he felt Caleb pulling away, trying desperately to protect himself that he paused. The younger wolf was bleeding from a dozen bites, one arm at an awkward angle, nose streaming blood. And finally he struggled backwards from Fenrir, limping as he cast his eyes downward in silent submission. Whispers filled the air around them, nearly everyone shocked at the display from their former alpha. Fenrir took several more aggressive steps forward, and Caleb retreated further, cringing away. "Leave," Fenrir barked. A tremor through the pack. Caleb swallowed hard and turned, limping away as fast as he could. Fenrir waited until he was over the ridge before turning to look at his new pack. Family, he would dare to call them, in some form or another. Soon. Right now, the door was open. Anyone that wanted to leave could. No one moved. All that remained now was the alpha female, the girl Caleb had been talking to. Fenrir made his way back through the caves. She had to submit to him as well, or leave. When he found her, she only dared look at him challengingly for the space of a few seconds before dropping her eyes. There was only one more thing to do before he could call this a successful takeover. When he was finished with her, Fenrir was more or less relaxed, taking his time getting dressed again. "I have business to take care of through the full moon," he said gruffly. "You will be in be acting alpha until I return. Keep them in check. On the full, let them run but don't get anyone caught. I need a head count when I get back." His instructions were curt, leaving little room for questions. That was the nice thing about packs. There was a pecking order and no one questioned orders once it was established. "I'll see you Saturday." And with that, Fenrir made his way back outside, enjoying the general sense of submission he got from the pack around him. There was of course, some danger in leaving so soon after usurping power, but if by some vague chance, one of them wanted to challenge him for the position, he would beat them down and away as well. There would be no mutiny here. The sun was coming up now and Fenrir was quite ready for something to eat. He was tired now, after a fight. But he had to contact the Dark Lord soon to let him know that plans were moving along and he would have to find something to do with Remus for the next day and and a half. The moon would take care of itself. Fenrir disappeared from his new family with a pop. He still had much to do today. |