Nina Pickering (pissing_jenga) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2012-10-01 16:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed, ~george sands (oe) |
Who: Nina & George
Where: Out in the woods somewhere.
What: Post-Wolf Hangovers
When: Morning of the 1st.
Rating: Mention of naked? Possibly adult stuff.
Open: No.
Status: Closed/Ongoing
Perhaps it was just the routine she liked. The arrival of the full moon wasn't exactly celebratory, nor was it remotely pleasant, but this was ..suddenly their routine, a reminder of how home had been. Including childbirth, transformation was one of the most painful experiences one could go through. Multiple organ failure, bones breaking, muscle and sinew tearing and stretching. That you remembered, that part you never forgot. After that, the evening as a whole was a blur. There were sorts of flashes of smells, and sounds and teeth. But nothing solid, nothing that was a real memory. Which always meant that piecing back the night before was sometimes necessary. The chicken technique was a tried and tested formula. Though the being shut in a basement, or some abandoned building? Well that left less room for mistakes, escapes, things not going to plan. With the little they knew about the island, perhaps it was too risky. The woods were dense and large enough, there wasn't even a little creek running through it to cut them off from town – it wasn't so big they couldn't have leapt across it, but the wolves didn't like to cross running water – even if the centre of town was worryingly easy to access from any point on the Island, this little barrier meant they'd be less interested in heading in that direction, or that the'd be stopped if they did. Wasting good frozen chicken, if it'd been that easy to locate would have been a waste, a strip of wild game each was all they'd needed – separating from each other and drawing their own wide circles – whilst almost playing an odd game of macro-polo in order to make sure they weren't getting too close to one another in their wolf-distraction paths. So long as she couldn't hear George, with heightened senses, then it was okay, surely they had enough distance. It was less a worry that they'd scuffle over territory and more so a concern that their wolf-selves would get rather too friendly. It was agreed, after a very anxious George explained that it wasn't a matter Eve being any only child, more it was the fact that perhaps ..it would be better to wait a little longer before that sort of thing became a consideration. Too soon they had split up and waited for the moon to rise. She awoke to that familiar feeling – it was sort of like a hangover. Not so much in the sense of feeling like you wanted to die, but the lethargy, dehydration and the pungent scent of raw meat and entrails turned the stomach, just enough to make the experience feel similar. Nina rapidly discovered the source; a stag ..well some of a stag. The remains of one lay before her. Ugh. Nina wrinkled her nose lightly as she lifted herself off of the ground trying not to think about what she'd eaten as the wolf – only to be surprised by the sight of George there. Still sleeping, practically cradling the leftovers. Equally naked, as the day he was born. The black sports bag she found nestled in the bushes under a tree told Nina that this had been her trail, where she had intended to end her moonlight jaunt as a wolf, curl up only to wake as a human. A cold, naked human. Rifling through her bag Nina pulled on some of her clothing – her coat might at least do for George, covering him up enough until they could find where he should have ended up as the sun rose and where his spare change of clothing would likely be. She didn't wake him – whilst a disemboweled half-eaten stag was ..revolting. George was quite the opposite, even filthy and nestled by a dead herbivore. She did however, take a swig of water, trying to wash down the metallic tang of blood. |