Call of the Wild
The moon...it called. Waxing to fullness, Kiril felt the light of the moon tugging on his bare skin like a changing tide. Increased gravitation yielded lower tides, greater distance a reduction of the land. Reduced light brought greater humanity from his kind, brighter light a deeper connection to the world around them. Light to hunt by, the light of their connection. A light some considered a curse. Some, some of his kind...they fought their nature, seeking to delay their return to their feral forms. Kiril felt it a homecoming, a time where he could be closer to his true self. Something not to be delayed. He felt sorry for those who fought, those who could not accept who and what they were. They were the chosen, and they were most blessed.
Leaving his clothing near the edge of the clearing, Kiril lay down, allowing the change to take place with no pushing or prodding. Completely naturally. Some would rush it, some would change part way. To each their own, he supposed, but the way of the tribe was to embrace it fully. He did not forget. The pain served only to focus one's mind. The focus that determines our reality.
Muscles tensed, relaxed, tendons shifted, bones altered...the cold retreated as his flesh was no longer bare. The night smells became sharper, the sounds clearer. Stretching his lean form, he gave a happy roll through the duff. Popping up and back onto his haunches, he cried his joy to the night in a long howl. Soon others would be joining his call.
Soon they would hunt...running fleet like the wind, weaving and leaping through the night woods. Teeth sinking into fresh meat, a suiting reward to exhaustion.
It would be a good night.
((ooc: Full moon is November 5))
Heading towards the employee garden, he began to loosen his tie along the way. The moon called and his very soul seemed to feel its pull. It was always this way for him and he assumed it was much the same for every other of his kind. There was an urge to change and to run. For him there was also an increasing need to reconnect with the wild nature of their kind. In his lifetime he rarely fought the full moon urges but now he welcomed them as a relief to the stagnant city life he had forced upon himself.
Breathing in the crisp autumn air, Vaughn closed his eyes and let the night's stillness embrace him like the arm of a long time friend. His muscles released their tension and after a moment, his hands began to work on loosening restrictive clothing and other trappings of man. Opening his eyes once more, the Sarkis collected the cast offs of his human life and put them on a garden bench to be forgotten until morning. He walked naked towards the garden gate and caught a glimpse of himself in the pond. Too pale, damn this position that required him to spend his days under the sick hum of florescent lights! Pushing the gate and the thought aside, Vaughn relatched the closure before stepping towards the woods.
He allowed the change to take him then, stopping when it became difficult to walk. There was no hurry; the moon had barely risen. The transformation was slow but he barely noticed. It was like a ritual of becoming, a cleansing of the human; once that proper penance had been carried out, he was free.
He was a tall wolf, by their standards, but long and lean. His black form was barely seen as he moved quietly along the edge of the manicured lawn. The forest rose up on his left and Vaughn quickened his pace, eager to be within the sanctuary of the wild. Smelling another of his kind among the scent of leaves and earth, He moved closer, coming out into a clearing and turning light blue eyes to regard an unfamiliar wolf. The stranger was obviously Vyusher by his size and markings and therefore family.
Feeling no threat, he sat back on his haunches and howled a long loud call beckoning the rest of the pack to leave their various tasks and to come join the Lloer Vesha.
((OOC: Note Vaughn is not a solid black wolf, he is black with dark grey markings but black is the predominate colour))
While there were times he dreaded the loss of control the full moon brought, tonight he looked forward to giving in to the change and running with his pack. It would be a welcome change from a life of responsibility and the constant weight of addiction.
He reached the tree just as the sun slipped below the horizon and began to strip down, tossing the tee shirt and jeans over a low branch. Others would be able to smell that this was –his- tree, for tonight anyway, and he would know where to return when he grew tired.
The first pull of the change, a simultaneous contraction of every muscle in his body, brought him to his knees, but he managed to breathe through it enough that the gradual reshaping of his body slowly became less painful. He suspected that if he had been born into this life it might come more naturally to him but even now the change could feel alien and painful if he was not of the right mindset. Tonight he was tense, and it showed in his change.
Hunting, he reflected, would be brutal. He should have meditated instead of smoking.
When he realized he was not so much breathing as panting, he stood and shook himself thoroughly, sending dirt and leaves everywhere. Scents came into sharp focus even as his thoughts blurred into the overwhelming impulse to run, hunt, bite, rend. The fur on the scruff of his neck stood up when one long howl was joined by another, a howl that could not be anyone’s save Vaughn’s, and he was quite beyond resisting the compulsion to throw back his head and join in the cry.
He trooped forward in the silence that followed that call and soon found Vaughn just inside the clearing, along with another he had not yet met. Sniffing the air, he approached this new one confidently, though he paused along the way to give the Sarkis a nudge with his head in greeting. There were nights when it was difficult to wait for the rest of the pack and indeed there were likely many who had a head start but he would wait for Vaughn to take the lead before taking off tonight.
A third arrived, a more familiar smell. The jiro that was man-scented, peregrinus, descended from humans, changed, converted. But strong, able. Good company! By the way they greeted, Kiril knew the dark form to be alpha. Alpha of alphas - Sarkis. Showing respect, he lay where he was, belly and throat to sky. A good omen, meeting the Sarkis on the night of the full moon, meeting him in the skin of their kind, not the clothes of the gaje. Sarkis had sacrificed much. Respect was earned. Working in the city for the benefit of the people. Even thinking about it made Kiril itch. He hated the city. He made such ventures only in order to weaken its growth, or, rarely, to shrink it.
Righting himself, he gave a slight pant of a smile before returning to his haunches and crying for his kin to join them. This hunt would be for'shava. The signs were right. With both here, the lloer vesha would begin in earnest!
Standing up, he returned the playful greeting with a shoulder butt of his own. Seeing that this new kindred knew the ways of the pack, Vaughn approached him and gave him a similar, if lighter, more brief, greeting to let him know that he was welcome.
There should be more coming to run with them. Their numbers were small still but each week more and more of the pack filtered into Nachton. Soon, very soon, they would be able to show the world that no one held them by a leash. The R'asa was free and those with misconceptions of their bondage would pay dearly for their arrogance and tyranny.
He howled once more, circling impatiently around the clearing. Vaughn listened for any signs of more of their kind coming to join in the celebration.
((OOC: V's next post will be moving on...so if you want to join the full moon run then you need to join soon. If not then either catch up or catch the next one. ))
The slow ones would get a reminder.
In the distance the sound of howling rung through the trees. Then it was begun. The Lloer Vesha.
In contrast to the tight evenly spaced formations they conformed to in human form, now the Legionnaires fell into a more natural pattern designed for effective hunting. It was organic, liquid in movement, all soldiers acting as one being with Latzu at the head of them. Running now, they made their way to the sound of their Alpha’s howl.
It would seem that the Legion was coming.
Still feeling excitable, he paced around the clearing a bit, stopping to sniff occassionally. How the others managed to be patient when there were the smells of rabbits and friends and that general thrumming sense of exuberant energy he never knew, but they would run soon enough and he could leave patience behind.
Vaughn paced around the clearing taking stock of how many and who he had with him. Others had gone onward and that was acceptable. Many felt the call of the moon much earlier in the night. The young ones can hardly contain themselves and some that were old enough to try but not wise enough to let nature run its course would be behind their group.
He found the trail that he was looking for and barked to get everyone's attention. Once the group knew which way they were heading, Vaughn set off in an easy trot for the beginning of the journey.
((OOC: Out and moving to a new thread ))
/ooc Outie outie