Re: The Woods: Full Moon
He came from the north of town, young and strong on four feet. He hadn't planned on running out, but the pull of it drew him in the way no moon had in years. Pack and alpha - he wanted to be part of it when he was on two feet, and he needed to be part of it when he was on four. The ability to keep himself locked away as usual, to block the door so he'd know to stay inside, was gone. He felt sharper, more himself in a way he rarely did in his recent moontime memories, and he'd been able to think his way out of the trailer and into the woods. Following the scent, the sounds. Following.
It was easy for him to find them. A map that nearly glowed under the moon, pointing the way. The woods smelled familiar, the way things from childhood always do. They smelled like home. They smelled like family. They smelled like loss. He couldn't stop the whine in his throat from slipping out as a mournful note. Not quite a howl. He never howled much anymore. There was never anyone to hear him.
He came up on the edge of the pack, hanging back though the pup in him wanted to tumble forward and throw himself back into the middle. It warred in him. But he still haunted the edges.