Amelia Winters (runwolfrun) wrote in stepfordhall, @ 2016-01-29 20:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: amelia winters, character: ivy silverwing, player: robin, player: willow |
Breaking natural laws
WHO: Ivy Silverwing and Amelia Winters
WHEN: Friday 1/29, morning
WHERE: Grassy area outside the dorms.
WHAT: Wolves may encounter problems rearing bunnies.
RATING: PG probably
STATUS: In progress
It was not the first time that Amelia thought that she didn't make that great of a werewolf. Someone, somewhere must have a really bad sense of humor to have made her the one bitten that night. Not that she would've put it on either of her parents, but the young, soft-hearted vegetarian was not particularly wolf-like. She wasn't fierce. She sniffled at documentaries. She hadn't even watched Bambi in years.
She also didn't much care for other werewolves. It wasn't that she thought they were bad people, per se - she didn't know them well enough to know that. But she didn't know how they were as wolves, either. Her one big experience with other wolves had landed her in the hospital and infected her with lycanthropy. So, when the full moon came around, she wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of going out with others, much less hunting and eating raw flesh. She'd done it before in the throes of the moon, but it was always weird.
In preparation, Amelia had been a fixture at the cafeteria all day on the day of the full moon. She'd eaten as much as she could stand, and then topped it off with dessert in the hopes of not being much in the mood to hunt and run. Then, when she'd gone to meet the others, she'd accidentally-on-purpose become separated during the insanity of a group of people turning into a pack of wolves. She'd spent most of the night running, and hadn't stopped until she'd spotted a brown lump in the snow.
It was a female rabbit. Anything could've killed it, she supposed - the cold, starvation, another animal. It definitely looked picked over. It was a little sad, because the poor thing had been so close to her den. Wolf-Amelia looked over at the burrow, tucked carefully in the cave-like roots of a tree, and eight little eyes looked back at her.
Saint Francis preserve me, there are babies in there. Amelia's heart broke at the idea that they'd either freeze or starve, just waiting for their mom to come back.
She'd slept at the foot of the tree that night, keeping the bunnies warm and safe from other predators. The following day, she'd returned with one of the plastic bins she'd used when moving into the dorms and scooped them up, along with as much of their little bed as she could manage, and brought them back to her room. She didn't have a roommate (yet, god help her), so she tucked them away in the far corner along with as much perfume as she could find in her bags.
But even a well-meaning werewolf as still a werewolf, and she scared the very devil out of the bunnies. It was only sheer desperation that had them drinking goats milk out of the eye dropper she'd found. Feeding time was a struggle every time, every three hours. She was exhausted. That was probably why one of them was able to make a break for it.
It was Red, who was always the feisty one. She'd given each of the bunnies a little dab of food coloring on their back so that she knew who had been fed and who hadn't. Yellow and Blue seemed like they were finally getting used to the idea of having her around (especially after she put a little of her own fur into the makeshift nest), Green was wary, and Red was definitely a fireball.
When she woke from her impromptu nap, she followed the baby's scent outside and into the grass, what could be seen over the thin layer of snow. She went back and forth between cursing herself in angry Portuguese and calling - as quietly as she dared - for the little bunny. As if it would help.
"Red, baby," she whispered, "it's too cold for you out here. Come back and we'll get you snuggled back in." She saw it, but it was as he made an awkward, lumping dash down the sidewalk. Eyes on the ground, she followed.