The Full Moon of October

So this episode was sort of planned as a Halloween special. Mostly I have it as character motivation for Connor to become more involved with the Wolf Haven pack. it's long, about 10K words

“You ready for this?” Nick asked, carrying in grocery bags through his front door.

“About as ready as I can be,” COnnor answered, his hands also full of grocery bags. “By the way,, what’s all this stuff for?”

“Oh, my step-mom just wanted me to pick up groceries since I had to go out anyways,” he said, gently kicking the door closed behind Connor.

“Glad I could be of service.” Connor followed Nick into the kitchen, and they set their bags down on the island. Nick began reaching into the bags and pulled out the items within. He rushed around the kitchen, putting things away. Connor stood off to the side and watched, not knowing where anything belonged. “So what’s your plan for tonight?” Connor asked.

“Mostly to keep you distracted until the moon comes up. After that, I gotta keep you focused [on not transforming]. Overall, we need to make sure your heart rate stays down. You’re still wearing that fitness tracker, right?”

Connor raised his right wrist and showed Nick that it was still right there on his wrist. It accompanied his [the]  silver bracelets he wore on both wrists which still held their gentle burn, though it wasn’t as strong as it once had been.

Nick nodded as he took care of the now empty grocery bags. “Good. Keep it on along with your bracelets. I might even see about borrowing one of my mom’s necklaces.”

“WHy don’t you just throw me in a huge vat of molten silver. It’ll be far less painful in the end.”

“I don’t see you rolling around on the floor now. Do you want my help or not?”

Connor kept quiet. He didn’t exactly want Nick’s help, but it was preferable to his other options.

“Alright, let’s grab some snacks and get ready to chill,” Nick said.

“As long as there’s no Netflix,” Connor mumbled.

-----

Back on Wolf Haven, Moon was with his friends sharing some concerns. “You’d think he would come back.”

Fang lay on the sand. It was one of the final warm days on the island, and he was going to enjoy the remaining sun. His naturally spiky fur dug into the sand. He opened his eyes just enough to see Moon gently rocking on the sand. He closed his eyes again and said, “We’ve been over this for the last two weeks. It would take a miracle for him to come back on his own. He didn’t exactly receive a warm welcome and most people still wouldn’t exactly be thrilled to see him return. For example, our own friend over there.” He pointed over to where he knew Soft Tail and Swift Eye were sitting. Other werewolves were also around the beach, though it was fairly empty as most were busy preparing for tonight. Slip was in the water doing something. Fang wasn’t sure what, but it probably involved his potions work.

“Yeah but still, he needs help. He should come back,” Moon said, wringing his hands.

Fang sat up. Sand slid off his fur. “Do you want to go check on him?” he asked. He figured the best way to convince Moon that everything would be fine would be to show him.

Moon nodded but otherwise didn’t move. Fang stood up and offered him a hand. Moon took it and let Fang pull him up. Fang said, “Let’s let the others know we’re leaving so we don’t just disappear.”

----------

Connor sat on the couch beside Nick. Nick had flipped to a channel that was currently airing some sci-fi show Connor didn’t recognize. He held a bowl of trail mix, but it was untouched. His stomach was sending signals that were unfavorable to eating in general. His eyes were focused on the screen, but his mind focused on the approaching moon. He was in a small space with someone who had no chance of fighting back should Connor go high moon during the night. Nick was a bit annoying sometimes, but he had tried to help Connor, and Connor didn’t want to reciprocate by killing him.

Nick looked over at Connor’s bowl. “You should eat. You’re probably going to need lots of energy when it happens.”

“I’m not hungry,” Connor mumbled.

“Yeah, but you will be.”

“I wasn’t last time,” Connor said. “Why would it be different this time?”

“Last time was also your first time. You most likely didn’t notice under the barrage of impossible circumstances.”

Connor turned away. Maybe what Nick was saying was true, but that didn’t change the fact the he felt like he was going to throw up any minute now.

Nick’s dad walked into the room, dressed for work. His square face was grim, and on his broad shoulders hung a long leather coat. “I’m heading out,” he said briefly. “Try to keep the house clean. Don’t want Lisa coming home to a mess.”

“We’ll be fine, Dad,”Nick said. “We’ll probably be asleep long before she gets home.”

Nick’s dad nodded, satisfied. He took one last look at the two boys sitting on his couch, looking at Connor for an extra moment as if eh suspected him of some mysterious wrong-doing and then left. Connor shuddered. He didn’t want to know what would happen should he find out about Connor’s secret.

The sound of the door closing reached the living room, and immediately, Nick stood up and power walked to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, and Connor heard the clinking of glass. Nick came back holding three glass bottles that did not contain soft drinks. Connor’s eyes shot open.

“Are you insane?” Connor shouted.

“i told you earlier. We need to keep your heart rate down. This is a depressant which means it will do exactly that,” Nick said more calmly than Connor felt he should.

“I know what a depressant does. I didn’t ask for your help so I could commit a crime.”

“My dad doesn’t drink often enough to notice a few bottles missing.” Nick said as he sat them down beside Connor.

“Your dad is a detective! You don’t get that kind of job by overlooking the obvious.”

“Unless it involves his job, he doesn’t care. Also, you need to relax before your heart rate gets too high. What’s it at?” Nick asked, looking towards the fitness tracker on Connor’s wirst.

“Your dad was in the hospital because of someone who got drunk [had a bit too much] and started shooting. What do you think is going to happen if I drink that?” He asked. He ignored Nick’s question, but decided to check himself later.

“You said you didn’t get drunk or have a hangover when you were in the tavern with that one guy.”

“None of that was real. Also there wasn’t a law making it illegal to drink under a certain age.”

“Look, I can’t force you to drink them. I’m just presenting them as an option.” He checked his watch. “It’s only five. We’ve got about another hour. At least try to eat something.”

---------

Moon and Fang stood on the edge of Wolf Haven’s portal. They had both gone and washed the sand out of their fur and changed into different clothes. Moon wore pants and a long sleeved shirt. Fang just wore pants. Seeing this, Moon tossed and extra shirt he had brought to Fang. “You might need this.”

Fang put it on without asking why. It had short sleeves and was a bit small. When he had it on, he asked, “Moon, will you be honest with me?”

Moon nodded, confused. He normally was honest. He didn’t see why it would be any different this time.

Fang took a deep breath and asked. “Did you have a vision about something happening tonight or are you just worried.. I’m willing to go with you regardless of you answer, but if there is a vision involved, I would like to have an idea of what I’m getting into.”

Moon shook his head. “No vision. Just worried,” he said. It was mostly true. He hadn’t had a vision. His dreams for the past two weeks had contained one disturbing image though: glowing white eyes.

Fang nodded and smiled. “Great to hear. Let’s get going.”

----------

The sun’s final rays settled below the horizon. Its fiery orange glow followed soon behind as the moon’s pale face slowly rose for its watch. It illuminated the neighborhood where one werewolf sat watching tv.

Connor felt a cramp in his stomach. He doubled over, clutching the aching area. The pain spread down into his legs and upward to the rest of his body. His gritted teeth spread to make room for fangs, and his face extended into a snout. He fell onto the floor, curled into a fetal position that he held like a clenched fist.

As his body finished stretching into its half wolf half human form, he hearn Nick calling hisname. He opened his eyes, which he hadn’t realized he’d losed, and saw Nick kneeling over him. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Connor nodded. He let his muscles relax and spread out on the floor. His breathing slowly returned to normal, and he realized that he was hungry. He sat up, his body achinf as he did. He pointed a now clawed finger to his bowl of trail mix.

Nick stred at the furry arm stretched out before him. Connor glared at Nick. “Nick,” he breathed out, “can you grab my bowl?”

Nick snapped out of it and reached over and grabbed the bowl. He set it in Connor’s hand and sat back on the floor.

Connor tipped the bowl back and poured a mouthful out. He chewed, though it tasted wrong. He resisted spitting it out and swallowed. He repeated the process until the bowl was empty, which only took about three more times. He set the bowl down on the floor beside himself and looked over to where Nick sat silently. He tilted his ears and heard the heavy thuds of Nick’s heartbeat. Hes fear filled the air, a thick musky scent. “Scared?” Connor asked.

“A little. The change reminds me of the one scene in Pinocchio. Except you can still talk.” Nick still didn’t move.

“Yeah? We’ll try being the one who goes through it next time.” Connor tried standing, but his muscles were uncooperative. He settled for crawling back up onto the couch. He looked down at Nick, who stared right back. “You just going to sit there for the rest of the night?”

Nick cautiously shifted back up to the couch. He leaned heavily on his side. “So I guess we just try to keep you calm now.”

“Yep,” Connor answered, and a wall of silence fell between them.

--------

Moon and Fang came out on the other side of the portal just as the sun disappeared. As the light faded, Fang turned to Moon and asked, “So how do we find him?”

Moon paused. He hadn’t thought about that yet. “Not sure.” He chided himself for not having done so. He had no clue about the whereabouts of Connor’s den, much less how to get there or if Connor was there.

"You could try visioning if you’re up for it," Fang suggested, his arms loosely crossed. His gaze was steadily focused on Moon, but it wasn't heavy. It was patient; It waited for Moon's choice as if it had all of eternity to wait. Underneath that gaze though, Moon was sure Fang was dying to move. Fang disliked standing around when he was trying to get something done.

Moon closed his eyes. He focused on a mental image of Connor. He thought about details: the pale skin that hung just below the sleeves of his shirts, the red skin from his time in The Beast's prison, the silver hair of an old man that hung down to his young shoulders, the dark brown eyes that flared white as all of these features became obscured by his transformation into a monstrous half human, half wolf form with long claws, shining fangs, and muscles that could split a log like a dry twig. This beastly form began to run and tackled a familiar boy who screamed as he was dragged closer to the werewolf, hungry for blood and energized by the moon. Blood splattered against the walls and heavy breathing could be heard.

Moon darted off in a direction he knew was right without having any tangible evidence. Fang followed close behind. "High moon, human, hurry," were the only words Moon could offer as an explanation. Other thoughts flowed in an unintelligible crashing river, none of which stayed long enough for Moon to process. He ran. He couldn't let another innocent die. Not after Iron Tail.

-------------

Connor pulled his eyes to the tv and tied them there. The glass sirens sang epic tales of how the could relieve him of his burdens. All he needed to do was sip the sweet nectar they held. Connor turned a deaf ear to their melody, but they didn’t need ears to be heard. Their tune was played for the heart, and Connor had little of idea of how to block its hearing.

His stomach still demanded tribute. He had already eaten a large bag of trail mix, and he felt that it should be enough. “No,” his stomach told him “YOur sacrifices are unworthy. You know what I desire of you. What makes you think you can defy me? I will not be ignored.”

With every movement, he felt as if he muscles had been tenderized by a professional boxer with anger management issues. Even reaching for his bowl took an agonizing minute, lifting his arm from its resting place, hovering it over to the end table, reaching down, closing each finger around the plastic, lifting it, making the return journey across the chasm between the end table and the couch, raising it to his mouth, and then setting it all back.

His tongue felt swollen and stuck to the inside of his mouth. It begged for liquid so it could move freely again. It was ready to dance, to sing, to speak sweet sayings. Instead, it hung as a prisoner in its own home.

Nick stretched and stood. “I’ve got some homework I need to work on. I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” he said, and he left the room. His footsteps echoed back to Connor’s ears and soon fell silent.

Connor rotated his head and looked at the bottles. Droplets of water ran down the side and pooled where glass met glass covered wood. He watched one as it jumped from droplet to droplet. It reached the bottom and he snatched the bottle. He gasped at the burst of pain in his arm and pulled the bottle to himself with greater care than he had grabbed it. His fingers closed around the bottle cap. He twisted and the cap popped off.

What was he doing? The bitter-sweet scent filled his nose, and he almost threw up on the spot. He touched the cool glass to his lips and tipped it back. He guzzled the bottle as if he had an infinite thirst to satisfy. He set the empty bottle down and grabbed the next one. He popped the cap off, which flew across the room and landed by the wall, then drank it without stopping. He dropped the bottle and grabbed the third. He drew it into full view in front of himself. “Don’t do this,” his mind warned. [This voice of reason sought his attention in a moment of clarity.]

“Do it,” said another more terrifying part of his mind.

Connor obeyed. He finished the third bottle and dropped it on the floor. He flopped back into the couch and breathed. It was harder than it had been earlier. His heart beat strong, pounding, slow beats. WHere there had been one tv, there now were two. The lights seemed brighter than before.

Connor stood, shaky. He took a step towards the kitchen and swung out his arms for balance. He took another, and then another. He reached the half wall that divided the living room and the kitchen and leaned against it to steady himself. He pulled in long breaths and let them rush out. His muscles were twitching, his eyes, drooping. He pushed up from the wall and took a step that resembled a lunge towards the sink. He gripped the edge, his claws scratching the steel. He hoisted himself up and flopped on the counter with his head over the sink. He turned on the faucet. Cold water ran on his face. He sputtered and moved the faucet so he could breathe. After catching his breath and coughing a few times, Connor twisted it back and began drinking. He stopped only to breathe until his stomach began to churn from all the liquid. He stopped the flow and breathed. He felt miserable. He was hungry.

--------

Moon’s course was set straight. He never turned to change direction except to avoid an obstacle. Fand admired the newfound speed, but understood it was fueled by whatever Moon had seen while looking for Connor. Though Fang didn’t want to think it, he was positive that Connor was about to kill someone. “High moon. Human. Hurry,” echoed in Fang’s mind.

Fang followed Moon, his face drawn tight in concern. Moon’s normal quiet demeanor had become hurried and scared. Keeping up physically took little effort, but following Moon’s stream of thought was a monumentous task even on his calmer days. Anxious shadows loomed at the banks and around every corner [bend]. SOme even dared step into the waters and darken their flow. Only time removed the contamination, and by that time, another would have followed in the way of the first. Because of this, Fang took care to speak directly with Moon. others could mostly understand when he was making a joke, but Fang didn’t want Moon to worry at all. Life had already given him enough trouble without Fang’s addition.

Miles of forest rushed by. Moonlight flashed between the leaves on occasion, but otherwise, the unmarked path ahead was lit by Fang’s natural senses alone. They jumped a ditch without hesitation and landed running. Fang wondered how much farther they would have to go. He selt sure Wolf Haven wasn’t this big. Was all of the mainland like this?

The forest began to thin, and Fang could see the edge of the tree line. Buildings unlike any he had ever seen before greeted him. Light shone through the windows, but it wasn’t the kind produced by fire. It looked as if most people in this world had magical lights, a commodity most on Wolf Haven either couldn’t afford or didn’t see as practical. Some houses were surrounded by fences that looked good only for use with livestock, but Fang couldn’t hear any noises, nor did he smell any evidence of such animals.

Fang turned his head forward and was that Moon had run farther ahead. Fang increased his speed to catch up. Moon was much closer to the tree line, little more than ten feet away. As Fang  approached, Mood made a hard turn to the edge of the forest. Fan’s eyes widened. Moon was about to reveal himself. Fang sprinted and shifted into half wolf form to grab Moon.

Moon yelped. Fang let go as Moon stopped and turned around, eyes wide. Fang put his hands up. “It’s just me,” he said. “I’m sorry. It’s just me. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

Moon’s breathing slowed closer to normal. “No. Sorry. Forgot you,” he said. Fang knew Moon had to be scared.

“Whatevers going on, I’m here to help you,” Fang said. “We still have to be careful though.”

Moon slowly shifted into a half wolf form. He nodded and edged towards the end of the forest, Fang following behind. Fang listened for Moon to say something. It took time, but Moon started to speak. At first, it was a few clipped words, but it turned into a flow of unintelligible sounds and Fang stopped Moon. “Are you having a hard time with your words right now?” Fang asked. Moon occasionally did this in the past, and Fang had found that giving him the words he needed could sometimes help. Moon nodded silently. “Okay.  What I understood from what you said was this: Connor is in there with a human. Connor is also about to ho high moon any minute now and kill that human. Is that correct?” Fang asked. Moon nodded again. [Another nod maybe?] “I know you’re worried, and you have good reason to be, but if Connor’s about to go high moon, we probably can’t stop him. He took down four of the guard and Comet Paw had to use magic and silver chains to stop him,” Fang said. He held up his hand where his fur had been discolored. “They weren’t normal chains either. They were designed to hold a nigh omnipotent force.” He put his hand down. “Let me go in there. I’ll try to talk him into coming out here so we can get him to Wolf Haven. Does that sound okay?”

Moon thought for a moment and then nodded. Fand nodded in return and shifted into his full wolf form. He had to get Connor out.

---------

Nick finished the last bit of his notes and put them back in the envelope. [maybe change this to connor’s notebook with an extra envelope for his aunt to read?] He could feel his own heart pounding and wished he had one of the bottles he had given Connor for himself. Too late now. Those had been the last three.

[This part needs work for the outside of the drawer] Nick opened an empty drawer in his desk. He traced a pattern on the wooden bottom with his finger, and, when he finished, the pattern lit up in a blue glow. The wood turned black and a stack of notebooks appeared. He laid the envelope on top of the stack and shut the drawer. He traced another pattern on the outside of the drawer which glowed orange when he finished. He reopened the drawer, and it was empty again.

He heard a loud crash that sounded like it had come from downstairs. He checked the bottom drawer. Empty. His dad must have taken it. He stood and fast walked to his dad’s room. He flipped on the light in the walk in closet which illuminated rows of dresses, shirts, and pants on hangers as well as a safe. He typed in the four digit code, 0142, and with a beep, the safe unlocked. He pulled out a handgun and a box of ammo. Thi ammo hadn’t been bought from the local hunting store though. This was his dad’s special ammo that he used on hunting nights. Nick hoped he wouldn’t have to use it. Nick loaded the gun, put the ammo back in the safe, and closed it.

Nick walked down the stairs with his back to the wall and the gun in his hand. Pumping blood echoed in his ears. He wiped the sweat off his forehead. He knew he needed to check to make sure everything was all right. That didn’t make it any easier to walk down the steps, taking a few seconds for each one and not reaching the bottom after a very long minute. He looked into the dining room. With the lights off, he couldn’t see anything. He turned across the hall to his dad’s study. The glass doors were closed and the curtains were drawn across the wall sized windows. He tip toed over and tried the handle. Locked, as always. He continued down the hall to the living room. Three empty bottles greeted him.

“Oh no,” Nick whispered. He couch was empty. Nick turned around to the kitchen. He walked in and saw Connor’s half wolf form collapsed on the floor. He set teh gun down on the counter and knelt beside the unconscious form. He moved to check his pulse, sure it had to be falling far below normal.

Something tapped on the glass sliding door leading to the backyard. Nick stood back up to a crouch and walked back around the half wall. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Another werewolf was outside tapping on the door.

----------

Fang stopped under a window. He shifted into half wolf form and peered inside. The room looked like it was for food preparation, but Fang saw no way for someone to heat food. What he did see was Connor lying on top of a surface by a large metal basin. Fang couldn’t see if he was breathing, but he heard a faint, slow heartbeat. Though Fang was still concerned, he breathed a sigh of relief. [maybe joke here? He’s pretty sure he’s safe-ish i think]. If Connor was passed out, then he wasn’t likely to fo high moon anytime soon, and if he had already gone high moon, blood would be evident of his fur.

Fang turned away to go investigate more when he heard a crash inside. He looked back into the window and Connor was gone. He was a few specks of blood on one of the interior cabinets as well as a small bit of fur and assumed Connor had just fallen. Now more concerned for Connor, he looked around for a way in. He approached the glass door. He wasn’t sure how to open it as he didn’t see any hinges, but he grabbed the handle.

He pulled his hand away immediately after touching it. The handle glimmered in the moonlight. Fang swore under his breath realizing that the handle at least had some silver in it. How rich were the people that they could put silver into such a common item as a door handle? Slip could rarely afford the materials to produce silver with alchemy. [Not that he had done it that often.]

A boy appeared inside. Fang retreated to the shadows beside the door to hide. He watched the boy look around and then walk into the kitchen. At first, Fan was glad that he hadn’t been seen. Then he remembered something he’d always been taught: never wake up an untrained werewolf during the full moon.

Fang rapped on the glass. He hoped he wasn’t too late. He was risking exposing himself for this boy’s sake. The least he could do was respond. He leaned in close to the glas, both hands on it to steady himself. He breath fogged up the glass, and he wiped it off with his arm. He saw glass bottles on the floor and wondered what was in them. He couldn’t read what was on it. The language didn’t look familiar.

The boy reappeared. He stopped as soon as he saw Fang. Fang listened and heard  the rapid beating of his heart.. Fang sighed. Scared humans were never good. Fang motioned for the boy to come closer. Nothing. Fang growled. “Open up!” he yelled.

The boy fell backward and scrambled out of sight. He came back with a device that he shakily aimed at Fang. Fang threw his hands up and backed away. He had heard stories of humans on this side who possessed metal wand-like devices that could spit pure silver. If this was one of those items, he didn’t want to learn firsthand what they actually did. His heart beating fast, he thought about what would make him look less threatening. To the human, he probably just looked like a huge fanged monster with a hunger for human flesh. The boy approached, the weapon with him and his aim growing steadier. Time was running out. Much closer and there was no way he could miss. How could he convince a human that he was just as harmless?

The answer had been staring him in the face, and as Fang realized this, he wanted to smack himself. He was a werewolf. He could look like a human if he wanted.

Fang slowly shifted to his human form, his features shrinking and retracting until he was just another human that just happened to have strange hair and glowing eyes. His heart calmed along with the boy’s. The boy lowered his weapon and stared into the eyes on the other side of the glass. He saw a human, someone like him. [He saw someone like him, a human.?]

--------------

Nick looked at the now human figure on the other side of his door. He was a medium build with dark brown skin. His hair rose up in short spikes the same color as his fur had been. He had light brown eyes that slowed. Now in a human form, Nick noted his clothes that belonged to an older time and only appeared now in museums, history books, and Renaissance festivals. His feet remained bare, sticking out from his pants.

Nick cautiously reached for the door’s handle. He lipped the lock and inched the door open, exposing himself to the cold air outside and the danger of facing a person who could gut him with his bare hands. The werewolf outside came forward with his hands still up. His eyes flicked downward and then back to Nick as he approached. Nick glanced down to where he had looked and realized he still had the gun in his hand. He set it down on the floor and stood up. The werewolf lowered his hands and stood as well. They faced each other for a moment before Nick gestured for the werewolf to come in. He did, eyeing the gun warily.

The werewolf froze and looked up. He sniffed loudly and approached the bottles on the floor. He knelt down next to one and lifted it to his nose. His eyes were wide as he turned back to Nick. He pointed at the bottle ins his hand. “|- บ ⌣   ر ጋ | ⊣ Ĉ   七 �" ሃ კ ዮ”

Nick stared back, his head tilted to the side. He’d never heard this language before, or any that sounded like it for that matter. It’s hard syllables reminded him of german, but no root, prefix, or suffix could he discern. “I don’t understand,” he said, hoping the werewolf would understand.

The raised eyebrow and squinted eyes were just as confused s Nick. THey had struck a barrier that had little hope of being overcome anytime soon.

-------------

Connor’s eyes opened briefly. He heard voices in the other room.. He didn’t know what they were saying. He didn’t care either. He was hungry. The world faded to white.

-------------

Fang resisted growling so as to not scare the human. How hadn’t he realized this would happen. With a world so drastically different in every other aspect, of course they would speak a different language. [what if instead fang felt the urge to laugh.] He turned away from the boy and looked at the bottle. He didn’t even recognize the alphabet they used. He did recognize the smell though. Though it wasn’t common on Wolf Haven, drinks like this would be available at celebrations such as the new year or the Magical Renewal festival. The one unspoken rule that everyone knew was this: never drink these sorts of drinks on a full moon.

He looked back at the human and at the looming figure behind him. Heis jaw dropped. He pointed behind the human to where Connor stood in his beastly for. The human turned. Fan heard the violent spike in heart rate.

Connor’s eyes were glowing completely white. He hadn’t moved exempt to stand behind the human . His massive form nearly touched the ceiling. He had arms and legs that rivaled trees. Fang had seen this from used before only when his pack needed to defend itself he doubted that the white eyed Connor had similar intentions.

“Run!” Fang yelled at the boy, who turned around to face Fang but stayed in place. The beast behind the boy did begin to move. He took a huge step forward. The boy startled and moved to run out. Connor moved faster. He tackled the boy and pinned him to the ground.

Fang rushed at Connor, shifting into his half-man-half-wolf form again. He leapt onto Connor’s face and managed to move him long enough to free the boy, who quickly removed himself from under Connor. Connor, however, enraged by Fang’s attack and fueled by the full moon’s power, tossed Fang off like a wet rag. Fang flew through two layers of glass and rolled on the human created stone outside. Ignoring the cuts on his body, he sat up and witnessed the scene inside.

The boy had escaped less than a yard before Connor caught him. Claws scraped through flesh. The boy released a pathetic noise of pain. His quick breathing filled Fang’s ears. Blood contaminated the once white walls and floor. Fang heard suspicious noises that accompanied Connor’s head getting much closer to the by. He froze, terrified by the obvious conclusion that Connor was eating the boy. He had obviously heard legends of werewolves who engaged in such behavior, but to witness it firsthand was a whole new level. He felt his stomach churn.

“No!” he shouted as he came out of his horror.

The beast’s form turned around. His grey fur was now red from the blood that coated his hands and face. His victim, somehow still alive, was missing flesh primarily from his abdomen, but also in other places such as legs and arms. Fang could hear the fading heartbeat of the dying boy and knew that there was nothing he could do. Connor growled before letting out a roar that shook Fang. He charged. Fang stood and ran faster than he knew he could.

“Moon, run!” he called as he ran towards the tree line. He was Moon tart running and was glad the had heard. He made it into the forest moments later with Connor hard on his heels.

He ran. He didn’t know if he had ever run so fast and at the moment, he didn’t care. [Before now, he had not completely understood the impact a full moon could have on werewolves. Now, having seen someone completely lose control, he had a better idea of what kind of magic flowed through his body and why it was considered by many to be a curse.] (maybe later?)

Trees rushed by. A constant low growl followed by the occasional howl kept the danger of his situation fresh in his mind. His current plan was to get back to Wolf Haven. It he made it back, he had a chance of getting help. Right now, with a monster chasing him through the woods, help was what he needed.

He couldn’t see Moon, but he assumed Mon was also aiming for the portal home. He jumped the ditch the had crossed on their way to save the human. He briefly reflected on how futile the attempt had been, but resumed his focus on running. He was almost there. If he tripped up now, he was done for.

The circle of trees marking home was now in sight. Fang sped up. He could make it. He chanced a look backwards. For nw, he was far ahead. He could still see Connor, but he had to peer past the trees to do so.

A tree his him in the shoulder Fang flew forward, carried by his momentum. EH yelped as he landed and rolled. Another tree stopped him. Fan heard the crack of what he assumed was one of his ribs. He looked up. Connor was coming fast with no signs of stopping. Fang had landed just outside the circle that could take him home. He closed his eyes. His joke had reached the punchline.

“Kaiswe!” yelled a familiar voice.

A roar from a monster.

Fang opened his eyes. sounds of magic reached his ears. while the sight of Comet Paw greeted his eyes. Comet Paw had created a shield around Fang and was busy fighting Connor. COnnor attacked relentlessly, swinging claws and biting. Comet Paw deflected each swipe with ease. He moved his staff and created magical barriers that Connor’s hands bounced off. Comet Paw gritted his teeth. Fang didn’t know why he was frustrated. All he was doing was blocking. Did he play to wait until the sun rose? That was more than half the night left to go.

“Fang!” called Comet Paw. He grunted as he blocked another attack. “What is his name?”

Fang shook his head as if to clear out excess thoughts. “What?” he asked. How was that going to help?

“His. Name,” Comet Paw said between blocks. Connor circled around to get a better angle. Comet Paw turned to face him, unwilling to let Conor out of his sight. “What is his name?” Connor leapt for a tackle and Comet Paw used his staff to flip Connor over him. Connor landed on his feet and continued.

Fang didn’t answer immediately. He still didn’t see how this would help. Connor was in the middle of high moon. He couldn’t listen to reason. “You’re a psychic!” he called back. “Shouldn’t you be able to read his mind?”

“I am occupied with trying to keep him contained and you alive. My powers require more focus than I have to give at the momen. Now tell me his name!” Comet Paw demanded. He used the momentum of another attack to throw Connor and created a barrier that he hit dead on.

“Connor, Fang yelled. “His name is Connor.”

When Fang called out his name, Connor stopped for a mome. He immediately resumed his assault. Comet Paw  blocked another attack and said,”Say it again. He’s slowing down. Use all of your voice.”

Fang sucked in a breath and tried again. “Connor!” [maybe keep in mind that you just threw him against a tree]

This time, Connor didn’t stop. In fact, it seemed as if he sped up.

“Again,” Comet Paw demanded.

Fang pulled himself up with a tree. He felt the pain in his ribs. The world was spinning and fading. He could barely pull in enough air for himself, much less to use. Nonetheless, he took as deep a breath as he could and called, “Connor.”

Connor stopped. He turned, teeth barred, to where Fang supported himel. He opened his mouth and roared. A white misty light came around his mouth and shut it, cutting off the the thunderous sound. More of the light came around his hands and pulled him down to the ground. Comet Paw approached him with his staff pointed down towards him. His breathing was heavy. “Good,” he sad as he watched him struggle.[change for the whole no contractions thing, maybe we ought to]  “Let’s get you somewhere where you can be contained better.”

Connor tackled Comet Paw as if he hadn’t been bound at all. Comet Paw’s staff flew out of his hand. Fang watched as Connor prepared to strike.

“ISHEN!”
Connor froze, his hand on Comet Paw’s Neck. His eyes cleared, and he shifted to his less beastly half-wolf form. His eyes glazed over and he swayed and fell beside Comet Paw.

Fang turned to find the source of the voice. Moon stood at the edge of the trees, looking weak. He stepped forward into the moonlight.

Comet Paw sat up. “I had wondered if you were going to offer any assistance,” he said to Moon. He stood up and retrieved his staff. “I must admit though, I did not expect you to be so effective. Tell me, how did you discern that using the ancient word for his name would work?”

Moon’s eyes stayed on the ground as he spoke, “Slip’s idea.”

“He is here as well?” Comet Paw asked as he inspected his staff.

“No, it’s just us,” Fang said. “I wanted to check on Connor and asked Moon to tag along.” He took a step towards the ring of trees and stopped, gasping at the pain in his ribs.

Comet Paw looked up towards Fang. “Stay still. This will hurt some.” He aimed his staff and mumbled some words. THe glowing mist surrounded Fang and turned solid, though it still appeared as a mist. It tightened and drove a wedge of pain into Fang’s side.

“Gah! Easy with the corset strings,” Fang said, a small smile on his face. Now that Connor was taken care of, the night was calm again.

Comet Paw lowered his staff and picked up Connor’s still form. He had shifted closer to his human form, but fur and blood still covered his arms and face. COmet Pat lifted him over his shoulder. “Come on. We need to get you to Black Maw.”

-------------

Lisa dug through her purse for her wallet. “I know it’s in here,” she said. “There it is!” she pulled it out and opened it. She took out $40 and gave it to the cab driver for her fare. “Keep the change. Thank you, sir.”

The driver nodded as he put the money away and she stepped out. She heard the cab drive off as she walked up the driveway to her home. Her car was there, but her husband’s was not. She remembered the message she had received earlier letting her know that he was at work and that her stepson had a friend over for the night. The message had said they planned on being asleep before she got home, but based on the lights that were still on, that hadn’t happened. That was Nick. Most likely he had lost track of time while researching some project or another.

She smiled as she turned the key in the lock. She loved Nick as much as she loved his father. They obviously didn’t always see eye to eye on everything, but he was a respectful kid who did well in school. She was proud to call him her stepson. It was good to be home after a week away for work.

The smell hit her first. Broken bottles, blood, feces, rot: all of these rushed into her first breath of home. THen she saw the body. Nick’s body, broken and with large chunks of flesh missing. Blood soaked the carpet and splattered the walls. The hanging portraits were saved only by the glass that covered them [maybe of their frames instead]. The back door was shattered.

Lisa screamed.

-------------

Connor’s eyes opened to a sight he felt sure he recognized but couldn’t place. The brown walls and white sheets on rows of beds reminded him of a hospital, though he couldn’t think of why. He didn’t hear any voices, just the silence of an empty room. The bed wasn’t the softest, but it wasn’t the worst he’d ever slept on. Maybe if he closed his eyes and went back to sleep he’d remember when he woke up. It might also help with the hammering in his head. His eyes hurt from the brief time he had them open.

“Hey,” a voice said.

Connor flinched and covered his ears. Why was it so loud? It couldn’t be that late in the day, could it? He had just woken up [what? Are you trying to imply that nobody speaks this loud in the mornings? Need some work]

“Connor, we know you’re awake. We need to talk.” [it should be I, not we]

Connor opened his eyes again barely., He saw a figure standing next to his bed in white robes. “Am I dead?” he asked himself.

“No, but I bet you feel like it. Here,” the form said as it presented a cup. “Sit up and drink this.”

Connor did as he was asked. He kept his eyes closed, which helped some. He tried to think about where he was [ as he sipped from the cup. Describe what’s in the cup]. Last night he had gone home from school. Nick had picked him up from home. At Nick’s house, he was going to spend the night [maybe put “at Nick’s house” at the end]. Nick was going to watch him and make sure he didn’t transform. Then in the morning he was supposed to go home. Somewhere along the line, the plan had fallen apart. He remembered transforming, hunger, voices, and white. What had happened? Had he…?

Connor opened his eyes, and the light didn’t hurt anymore. He looked to the side where a werewolf he recognized from the island stood. He knew where he was now. The infirmary beds called up memories of the previous month where he had been stabbed by another werewolf with anger issues. “Why am I here? What happened?” he demanded.

“Well,” Black Maw began, “seeing as you don’t remember everything, it’s probably best that I ask you about what you do remember. Tell me what happened as best as you can remember. [maybe just take out remember].” Black Maw sat down on the empty bed next to Connor’s.

Connor took a moment to collect his thoughts. He then went over what he remembered with Black Maw. He paused occasionally to make sure he had remembered correctly before continuing. After a few minutes, he stopped, recalling no more. Black Maw nodded. “I see. Maybe it’s best that you hear the rest of your night’s events from those who were there.”

A confused look formed on Connor’s face. Who else had been there other than Nick? Black Maw stood up and left the room. Connor put his head in his hands. What had he done? [happened maybe]

Black Maw came back in and back to Connor’s bed. “If you are feeling up to walking, we can go meet up with the others,” he said.

“Who are the others?” Connor asked.

“Fang Fur, Moon Eye, and Comet Paw. I have already talked with them as Fang Fur had a few injuries that needed my handiwork applied. We arranged to meet when you woke,” Black Mas told him, and he offered a hand.

Hearing this, Connor asked, “What did I do to Fang?” [again, what happened probably]

“As he has explained it to me, nothing. Fang’s father was present at the time, so depending on his opinions toward you, he may have lied. I know he’s done it before,” Black Maw said, shrugging.

Connor looked at the floor. He didn’t want to face more people he had hurt. He had already done so much damage to the werewolves who lived here. He wanted to escape. “What if I don’t want to meet with them?”

Black Maw grimaced. “Were it just the younger two, I maybe would consider just letting you rest a while longer. However, Comet Paw Does not like to be kept waiting. I like to imagine that as a consequence of his powers. Why wait when you already know what’s going to happen. And seeing as you seem to be well enough, I can’t find a good reason to keep you any longer.”

Connor sighed. “All right. Let’s do it then,” he said, and he stood, ignoring Black Maw’s outstretched hand. He lost his balance and started to fall. Black Maw caught him and eased him back to standing.

“Would it help if you have a cane to lean on?” Black Maw asked.
Connor nodded. He felt like a feeble old man, but it was better than needing a wheelchair.[That’s a wee bit insensitive to anybody who uses a wheelchair] He sat back down on the bed and watched as Black Maw left again, coming back with a wooden cane, simply carve for its purpose [and nothing more]. Connor took it along with the hand Black Maw offered.

“There we go,” Black Maw said. “And if you need, I’m right here to help you.” He walked ahead of Connor, just barely. Connor followed behind at an agonizingly slow pace. When had he forgotten how to walk? He focused on each step, afraid he might fall.

Black Maw lead him through the lamp lit caves. Connor recognized some, but, having been to the infirmary only one other time, most of it looked new. Even then, there were few markings to indicate where to go and the walls stayed the same light brown color no matter where they turned. Eventually, they stopped in front of a door, simple and wood. Black Maw knocked. A shuffling sound returned before the door opened to reveal the werewolf COnnor recognized as Comet Paw, the pack seer.

“Well, you were out for quite a long time. Welcome back to the land of the living,” Comet Paw said, smiling. He gestured for them to come inside. “I assume you intend to join us, Black Maw?” he asked.

“Yes, I do. I would like to keep an eye on Connor here and check in with Fang Fur.” Black Maw said as they stepped inside. Comet Paw closed the door behind them.

“Then I guess we will need more chairs,” Comet Paw said as he returned to his desk. He sat behind it in the chair and wrote something on a small piece of paper. He put the paper in a bowl on his desk, and a fire ignited, eating the paper but leaving no smoke or ash behind. Comet Paw looked up and gestured to the two chairs opposite his. “Please, sit. I imagine that the other two will arrive in coincidence with their chairs.”

Connor sat in one of the chairs and looked around the office. Bookshelves covered the walls on either side of his [desk?] and behind Comet Paw was a table with various minerals, plants, and body parts organized on it. Shelves filled with more ingredients were on the wall above the table. Every shelf had labels on it, though Connor couldn’t tell what they said. Comet Paw’s desk was as organized as the rest of his office. What few papers were on his desk were neatly aligned with the sides of his desk and were placed deliberately. Connor wished he had Comet Paw’s organization skills. He could often find a paper buried in his backpack long after he needed to turn it in.

Comet Paw watched as Connor looked around the room. “I must admit, I am proud of my collection.” Connor looked at Comet Paw as he spoke. “I assume you have not seen many of these items before being from the other world.”

Connor took another look around the room before he spoke [answered]. I recognize some stuff, but i don’t recognize the text. It’s nothing like I’ve ever seen back home.”

“That is odd,” Comet Paw said, scratching his chin. “You speak our language as if you grew up with it.”

Connor’s face took on a quizzical look. “I’m speaking my native language. What are you speaking?”

“We use a language descended from a mainland language. As is the nature of  language, it has changed enough for it to be difficult to speak with someone who has learned the parent language or a different descendant. However, i doubt that whatever you speak resembles our language. This is certainly a strange development,” Comet Paw said. Someone knocked on the door. Comet Paw stood up from his desk and answered the call. Connor turned around and saw Fang and Moon standing there, each holding a wooden chair. “Good,” Comet Paw began, “You are here. Now we can begin. I’m sure we all have details we need filled in from last night.” He gestured for them to come in.

Fang and Moon came in and set their chairs down. Fang had a small smile on his face as he sat. Moon looked apprehensive. Comet Paw returned to his desk and faced his guests. Fang and Moon had sat on the outside of Connor and Black Maw. No one spoke.

Finally, Comet Paw broke the silence. “Black Maw I believe you wanted to ask Fang Fur a few questions on his condition?”

“Doing great,” Fang said, not waiting for Black Maw to ask. “The stuff you gave me worked perfectly. Tasted horrible, but it beats the pain.”

“Good, good,” Black Maw said. “I assume you took care to get plenty of rest?”

“Yep. Slept like a rock. Only woke up an hour ago. That afternoon sun hits this perfect angle where it’s right in your face,” Fang said as he used his hands to frame an invisible window.

“Afternoon?” Connor interjected. What time was it? What it even the next day?

“Comet Paw nodded. “Well into the afternoon. The sun will probably set in two hours. Do you have somewhere to be?”

Oh no, He’d missed an entire day of school. What would his parents think? “Yeah, I do. I need to go, now.”

“You cannot leave now. We need to talk.” Comet Paw said.

“You don’t understand,” said Connor standing. “I have to go. My parents are going to kill me.” Connor walked toward the door. He opened it and started running, hoping he could find the way out.

Comet Paw stood to go after him and started scribbling a note to put in his bowl. ‘If he won’t listen to me,  perhaps he will listen to the guards.”

“Comet Paw, my friend,” Black maw said, “Don’t worry about him. We both know he’ll come back. He will learn what happened soon enough.”

Comet Paw stopped writing, leaving the note unfinished. He sat back down. “I suppose you are right.” He sighed and relaxed some in his seat. “You are free to go,” he said as he gestured to Fang Fur and Moon Eye. They looked at each other nervously before getting up and taking their chairs out the door with them.

The door closed, leaving Black Maw and Comet Paw alone in silence. “Alpha Blood Mane [note: this is the pack leader which could also use a better title] will need to be informed,” Comet Paw said. “International affairs and all that.”

“If there is anyone who can help that boy right now, it’s our Pack Leader,” said Black Maw.

------------

It took time, but Connor found [his way out and made it to] the portal. After what he felt was half an hour, Connor found the edge of the forest. He followed the tree line until he found the parking lot for the campground. Finally, he could find his way home. [find another verb besides find/found]

“Hey, stop!” someone yelled.

Connor turned around. A park ranger was approaching him, a radio in his hand. Panic filled Connor. He had expected maybe a cop to find him, but he couldn’t even get past a park ranger.

The ranger stopped in front of him. “Are you Connor Wells?” he asked.

“Yeah, [why?]” Connor answered [asked].

“I need you to come with me,” the ranger said. He started walking towards the ranger station he had come from and Connor followed. The ranger opened the station and gestured for COnnor to enter. He did. The ranger closed the door and pointed to a chair. “Sit [there]. I need to make a call.”

Connor sat and watched the ranger walk into his office. He closed the door behind him. HE picked up the phone and dialed. Connor listened for the ranger’s words. “Hi, this is Ranger Will Richards at the Glolan Forest lot station. I have the missing kid here with me.”

Missing?

“Yes, Connor Wells. He’s sitting here in the station.” [The ranger glanced at Connor] A pause. Connor couldn’t hear [what was being said on] the other [end of the] line. “About ten minutes? All right. He’ll be here.

What was happening in ten minutes?

The ranger opened the door again. Connor watched him sit in the chair across from him. He didn’t say anything, just watching COnnor. Silence filled the room. Connor heard the calm beat of the park ranger, much slower than his own heart. He didn’t know of having done anything other than miss school that day. [OK remember he just found out he’s a missing kid. Focus on that] The park ranger seemed to be over exaggerating the problem [is over exaggerating redundant?]

Tires crunched against the gravel. A door slammed. Footsteps. Knocking. Ranger Richards stood up and opened the door. A cop stood in the doorway. “William Richards?” the officer asked.

“Yes sir. The Wells kid is right in here,” the ranger said as he pointed to Connor. Connor shifted under the gaze of the officer and the ranger. They were both calm for whatever seemed to be going on in their minds.

The officer nodded. “All right. I’ll take him down to the station. Thanks for your help.” He walked in and stood in front of Connor. “Connor Wells?” he asked.

“Yes, sir?”
“My name is Jack Knight. I need you to come with me to the station. We need to ask you some questions about last night.”

“Okay,” he said [ connor said]. He didn’t want to provoke the officer. He stood and followed the officer outside to his car. The policeman opened the back door and COnnor got inside [need a better word than got]. He closed the door, got behind the wheel, and started driving.

--------------------------

Soft listened to Moon and Fang’s account of the night’s events. Her face held an angry flare. The way they told it, she should sympathize with the person who killed her father. If there was one happy detail , it was that Beast had also now killed someone close to him. Now he would hurt like she did.

“So now what?” Swift asked, looking at his brother. He looked less than thrilled that Moon had put himself in danger.

“I agree with Black Maw,” said Slip. “He’s going to come back and he’s going to want help. We should be there to help him.”

“Why?” Soft asked. “He got himself into this mess. He should do the work to get himself out.”

“Doing it on his own is why he messed up in the first place,” said Swift.

“He could always talk to the council about it,” Soft said. She turned to Slip. “Has your dad said anything about what they planned [plan] to do?”

“The plan had been to discuss it after getting Beast’s side of what happened,” Slip said.

“Well that obviously went perfectly,” Fang said.

“It did for him,” Soft said.

“If you consider having no clue that your friend is dead to be perfect, then, yeah, it did,” Fang said.

“He’ll manage just fine,” Soft said. [that’s a really awkward line]

“I assume you speak from experience?” Fang asked.

[probably here, argue a bit more while her emotions rise, then attack]

Soft attacked. SHe shifted to her wolf form and aimed to bite the shoulder, growling. Fang fell backwards, but he was ready to fight. He had his teeth barred and claws ready. Swift grabbed Soft from behind and pulled her back. She shifted back to a half wolf form to make it harder for him to hold her. “Don’t you ever say anything about my father again!” she screamed.

“If you have to close your eyes to grieve, that’s fine, but if it’s going to blind you to other people’s pain, it’s time to wake up,” Fang shouted back.

Soft shoved Swift off of her. She stormed off. Fang had no room to talk. His mother died years ago. He’d had his time to grieve.

---------------

Connor sat in a chair in the police office. He’d been waiting a long time with no word from anyone. He watched through the glass of the office as people came and went. As far as he knew, this was the office of Nick’s dad. He wondered what was going on. He didn’t think skipping school was such as big deal. He’d heard the occasional story about what happened when a kid tried to play hookie, but it was nothing like this.

An officer opened the door. “Detective McCraw [Santos? You’d thought about changing it] will be here soon with your parents. Do you need a drink or anything?” he asked.

“I’m good, thank you,” Connor answered. The officer nodded and closed the door behind him. [cue thoughts and internal monologue, if i was any good at that]

Sure enough, Nick’s dad walked in a few minutes later with COnnor’s parents. His mom stopped for a moment. Light reflected off the tear tracks running down her face. She rushed to Connor and hugged him like a bear trap [maybe just use fiercely or something]. She sobbed. Connor’s dad sat down beside him and joined the hug. Connor wrapped his arms around them gingerly. What were they so freaked out by?

Detective McCraw settled himself behind his desk. He said nothing as the emotions poured out before him. Connor watched him, wondering if he would offer some explanation as to what was going on. He only moved to rest his chin on his hands as he waited patiently for it to end.

Finally, Connor’s parents released him and sat on either side of hm. His mom sniffed and pulled a tissue out of her purse. Connor’s dad had mildly puffy eyes himself. Connor sat silent and confused, waiting for someone to ask a question or say something. It felt like everyone had lost their ability to speak.

Detective McCraw broke the crystalline spell. “I bet you’re happy to be home, Connor.”

“I’m more confused than anything. Could someone explain what’s going on?” Connor asked. His mom had her arm around his shoulders.

“Let’s start with you. Where have you been since last night?” Detective McCraw asked. His face was neutral, but Connor sensed anger hidden under his mask. [maybe description before dialogue]

How was he supposed to answer that? Oh yeah, he was just chilling on the werewolf island that you could get to using the portal in the forest that no one has ever seen, but it’s definitely there. The only person who might believe him was Nick’s dad and that was because he hunted werewolves. Connor wasn’t a huge fan of the werewolves on Wolf Haven considering they were the reason he was in this mess in the first place, but he couldn’t sell them out after the help they had offered.

“I don’t remember.”

Brilliant.

Detective McCraw obviously didn’t buy it. Neither did Connor’s parents. Connor continued, hoping a few details might sell his story. “All I remember is passing out on the couch and then waking up in the woods earlier.” He looked down at the floor. “I may have had a few of the six pack in your fridge.”

His mother gasped. He looked at his father, who did not look pleased. Nick’s dad looked less convinced. “I’m sorry,” Connor said, “I swear it will never happen again.”

“You can be it’s not happening anytime soon. We’ll be talking about this more when we get home,” Connor’s dad said.

“So you’re saying,” Nick’s dad began, “that you were already at blackout levels after three bottles.”

Connor nodded. That was what he was saying even if it wasn’t true. He had enough memory of what happened last night to know it wasn’t what was in the bottle that was blocking his memory.

Nick’s dad nodded back. “Mr. Wells, Mrs. Wells, as I assume you both know, what your son did is a crime. However, I’m willing to let it slide if you would let me speak with him alone for a moment. I need to get his statement and I feel that he might be more talkative [honest maybe] without you two [on his own maybe].”

Connor’s father nodded his assent. “Certainly. We’ll be outside,” he said. He looked at Connor with a mixed look of anger and sadness. The two emotions fought for ownership of this prime property and it was unclear which one was winning. He stood along with his wife and exited the room, closing the door behind them.

Connor turned to face Nick’s dad. He pulled back when he saw that his face had shifted from a neutral frown to a furious scowl. He stood slowly and moved around his desk. He approached the glass of his office and closed the blinds. The lock clicked as he twisted the knob. Connor felt his heartbeat jump. What was he planning? He came back to his desk, but instead of sitting behind it, he leaned against the edge of the desk on Connor’s side, a bit off center. He crossed his arms. He said nothing. He didn’t look at Connor. His eyes held the chair in front of and tried to break it.

Connor’s deep breathing drew in the scent of anger, its bitter, smoky scent difficult to swallow. He had to stay calm. He couldn’t convince Detective McCraw of anything if he became rattled. The anxiety management techniques Nick taught him surfaced. Breathe in through the nose, out of the mouth. In for four seconds. Hold for seven seconds. Out for eight seconds. Repeat. He kept his eyes on Detective McCraw, watching for any sudden movements. His dark brown eyes could have been carved from marble, his skin from wax. The only sign of life was his quiet breathing.

He moved. Connor resisted the instinct to flinch, instead tensing his muscles. Detective McCraw’s hand glided down to his holster. It removed the gun and brought it to the other hand. He tilted it in his hands, inspecting it. “I’ve used this twice outside of the range. I hit both times. I would hate to use it again. There’s a lot of paperwork involved. It takes more time than I like.” He looked at Connor. Connor noted the shaky voice. There was more than anger. What, Connor didn’t know. “Don’t let that make you think,” he continued, holding the gun with his finger on the guard, ready for the trigger, “not even for one second, that I would hesitate to squeeze that trigger if I felt sure I needed to.”

Connor squirmed in his seat. He wanted out. How had he remained in the service for so long while this unstable, Connor didn’t know. Detective McCraw pressed a button on the side and removed the clip. He set the gun on the desk and reviewed the clip. Connor noted the familiar glint off the bullet tip, a glint that could most definitely kill him. McCraw removed one round from the clip and set the clip on the desk as well. Convincing him would have to start somewhere. “I don’t doubt that you would, but what does that have to do with getting my statement.”

Detectie McCraw slammed his hands against the desk and towered above Connor who shrunk into his seat. “Are you trying to play me for a fool?”

“No, sir.”

“Let me tell you,” the Detective said with a sneer, “there may be a fool in this room, but it isn’t me.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Connor said. [i want to aim more in the “you know what I’m talking about direction.”]

“You can hide from your parents, but you can’t hide from me.I know exactly what you are and you and I both know what you did,” Detective McCraw said, his voice rising.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Connor said, his fear growing with every second.

“Oh sure, you don’t. Just like you don’t know when you went last night or what happened. I absolutely believe you.”

“I don’t. It’s the truth. What happened?”

“What happened? What happened?” McCraw grabbed the sides of Connor’s chair.

“Ye-”

“YOU KILLED MY SON!” Detective McCraw screamed [work on that], his voice cracking.

Connor froze. His eyes widened. “What?” he whispered.

“My son . . .” Detective McCraw stopped and looked down. He pulled in a shaky breath. “My son is dead, and it’s because of you,” he breathed out, his eyes boring into Connor’s.

Connor dropped his gaze. He’d killed. Again. And this time, it was someone who had been trying to help him. Nick had become his friend. Someone he could rely on. And now he was gone. [maybe remove the and] Forever. And it was his fault. After all that work, he had lost control to his feral instincts and murdered an innocent kid with a long life ahead of him, a life destined to aid others in their times of need. Now all of that potential had been obliterated because it had been offered to the wrong person.

Detective McCraw grabbed Connor’s chin and forced it up. Connor cried out in pain. McCraw touched the bullet in his other hand to Connor’s skin. Connor yelped again as the familiar burn reached new territory. McCraw let the tiniest smile flash over his barred teeth. “I knew it,” he whispered. He reached into his pocket knife. He flipped it open and put it against the underside of Connor’s chin. He pushed the blade in enough to make sure it left a mark. Blood trickled out onto and down the blade. Connor whimpered as the blade continued at an angle. McCraw pulled it out and sliced in again at a different angle. He made this incision and the two more before stopping to inspect his work. Deciding it was good, he placed the flat of the blade against Connor’s chin where he had made the cuts. He slowly slid it along the searing flesh until he had covered the entirety of his mark. He grabbed a tissue from a box on his desk and wiped the blood off of Connor and then his knife. “Now everyone will know what you are,” he said as he pulled Connor up by his head, forcing Connor to stand up. “Werewolf,” he spat out. He shoved Connor away. “Get out.”

Connor backed away quickly toward the door. He fumbled with the lock, but managed to open the door. He stepped out. Before closing the door, he took one last look inside at Detective McCraw. He sat behind his desk, head in hands. In a moment, his body started to shake. Connor could just hear the sounds of a grieving father behind the furious detective.

He took a moment to compose himself. He touched his hand to his chin where Detective McCraw had cut him. He could already feel the raised scar which still stung. He would see what Nick’s dad had done when he got home. For now he needed to hide it from his parents.

He walked down the hallway to the entrance of the police station. His parents were sitting there waiting for him. They saw him walk in and stood. He joined them, and they walked out to their car and drove home.

-----------

“What in the pantheon was that about?” Slip demanded.

Fang ignored his sibling. Slip hadn’t seen what he had seen. Soft didn’t understand what happened when someone went Full Moon. The person was replaced with a horrible, uncontrolled energy. He kept working on their evening meal. He was hungry, and food didn’t cook itself.

“Fang, are you listening?” Slip asked.

“Nope. Are you helping? Also no,” Fang said.

“Ignore your stomach for a moment. You hurt Soft Tail.”

“I meant everything I said,” Fang said.

“That doesn’t make you right for saying it. You know the pain she’s going through. We both do,” Slip said. She laid her hand on his shoulder. “She was there for us.”

“And who’s there for Connor?” Fang asked, turning to free Slip. “He’s on his own.”

“He’s got his parents to help him,” Slip said.

“He hasn’t told his parents,” Fang said.

“How do you know?” Slip asked.

“If he had, he wouldn’t have run earlier. He’d be able to just explain that he was here. Keep in mind the comes from a world that generally doesn’t believe we exist. Those that do most likely hate us. It’s the most common reaction to things you fear. To us,” Fang said.

Slip didn’t answer immediately. Fang turned back to his work. He rubbed the spices into the fish, preparing them for the grate over the fire. If he timed it right, they would be done right around the time their father arrived home. He’d done it long enough that he had a good idea of the timing.

“Is this about Mom?” Slip asked.

Fang stopped. Their mother rarely came up in conversation, and when she did, the atmosphere changed like the hour before a storm. “No,” he said.

“Okay.” Slip took a moment to calculate what Fang’s response might mean. Fang continued working, needing to get this done soon. After a few minutes, Slip came up beside him. “How can I help?”

Fang smiled a little and began directing Slip.

-----------------

Connor lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. If he listened, he could hear his parents arguing clearly. They were trying to decide how long to ground him. His dad argued in favor of a longer two months. His mother advocated for a shorter sentence, close to one week. [maybe here a few lines about how it seemed silly, talking about grounding him as if it was another tuesday and he had missed curfew, rather than another devastating day in the series that had made up the last few months of insanity. In the end] Connor didn’t care. He didn’t feel like moving. He could lay here for the rest of the month at least, probably more. His chest had a weight compressing it. His heart was tight as if imploding. His breath was shaky. He closed his eyes to hold back the threatening tears.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

Connor opened his eyes and looked at his door. It was still closed.

“Over here.”

Connor turned the other way. Iron tail, or more accurately, his ghost, stood in the corner of the room. He was in his half wolf form. Connor looked away. “Yeah, I guess. It sorta does.”

“Give it time. It will hit you soon enough,” Iron Tail said.

“Did you lose someone when you were alive?” Conor asked.

Iron Tail nodded. “A few. That’s the nature of life though. Everyone has their time, and when it comes, you aren’t guaranteed to be ready.”

“You were right,” Connor said.

“Was I?” Iron Tail asked, a small, almost smug smile crossing his face. “How so?”

“Well, I should have listened to my head which said go with the experienced ones rather than my heart which said avoid the werewolves [maybe the ones who did this to you]. I wanted to do it on my own instead of doing it right. [i cared more about doing it on my own than doing it right (instead)] I didn’t really understand that I could kill someone [, even though i’d done it before]. “Connor’s voice caught in this throat. Tears rose unbidden yet again. “And now he’s gone.”

“It’s easier to treat headache than heartache, but in the end, you learn more from the latter,” Iron Tail said.

“Is there a way I can see him again?” Connor asked. “Like how I’m talking with you now,” Connor said as he looked right at Iron Tail.

Iron Tail’s face fell. “There’s not much of a way to put this gently I suppose,” he said. Connor’s stomach dropped. [ok since this is about where you’re thinking about the Underland, maybe have Nick’s aunt introduce it to him.] Iron Tail continued. “It’s unlikely, if not impossible. You see, your world works differently from mine. When someone dies in my world, their soul becomes part of the great spirit of their race. The great spirits act as representatives between the gods and the races of our world.”

“What about here?” Connor asked.

“We don’t know.”

Connor gave him a skeptical look. “Who is we?”

“All of the rest of the souls who have passed on to become part of the great spirits. And for that matter, anyone who is currently alive in my world.”

“What about the gods you serve?” Connor asked, holding onto hope.

“They, having foresight in their world and over the lives of their subjects, knew you would ask [us] this and didn’t provide an answer.”

Connor looked away, dejected. With those words, his hopes of reaching his friend were gone.

“I’m sorry, my friend,” Iron Tail said. “It truly pains me, having this power, but with it, the responsibility of obeying the ones who provided it.”

“No, it’s fine,” Connor said. [connect these ideas] An idea came. “Can you do something for me?”

“If the gods permit, I will try,” Iron Tail answered.

“I need to get a message to Wolf Haven. I’m going to be grounded for probably the next month, so there’s no way I can get there.”

“What’s the message?”

“Tell them,” Connor began, thinking about his net words carefully, “I want their help. I need their help.”

Iron Tail nodded, a contented smile on his face. “I will try, Connor.”

“Thank you.”

“Connor.”

“What?” What else was there to say?

“Connor.” Connor looked at him quizzically. His mouth hadn’t even moved.

Connor’s eyes opened and he heard knocking on his door. “Connor are you in there?” called his dad’s voice.

Oh. He’d fallen asleep. It had been a dream, like the last one. Who knew if any of it had been real.

“Connor I’m going to come in if you don’t respond.”

“I’m awake,” Connor said, sitting up. “Come in.”

Connor’s dad opened the door. His tired eyes met Connor’s. His face was solemn. “Your mom and I talked,” he began.

“How long?” Connor asked.

“Let me finish,” Connor’s dad said and continued. “We’re disappointed in you, but in light of what happened, we decided to be lenient. You’re grounded for the next three weeks. You go to school; you come home; you do your homework. That’s it. I need your phone as well.” He came over beside Connor’s bed and held out his hand. Connor fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to his dad. He could work with three weeks. Had it been a full month, there might have been problems.

His dad sat down beside Connor. “I know this next little while is going to be tough for you, and I know nothing I say can change what happened to your friend.” He wrapped his arm around Connor’s shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

You’re not the one that needs to be sorry, Connor thought. He leaned on his dad’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said.

“We’ll go to the funeral, of course,” his dad said, “unless you don’t want to.:

“No,” Connor said. “We’ll go.”

---------------------

She entered his room. The room once lit by critical thought and intellect now swallowed light leaving behind a hollow shell.

Author's Note

Apologies for grammar and spelling issues. Sorry about the length. Two most important things I'm looking for are plot and feeling. I know there's not much to go on to feel any emotion for Nick, so any advice is appreciated. I'm personally experimenting with my characters as far as personality goes mostly.