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Verliebt in Einen Jungen Wolf	By : Scribe Category: S through Z > Sentinel Views: 1884 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Sentinel, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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The Hunt

moon the moon calls answer

A long, low howl reverberates in the wolf's throat. It is oddly musical, almost gentle. It is a lover's call. He raises his head and spins out the sound. letting it spiral up to the silver disk floating over head. The moon, his only mistress.

The thing that is often mostly wolf, and sometimes mostly man, but never again wholly either, melts between deep pools of forest shadows. Black eyes that should be luminous green or yellow lift again to the agent of his change this night. The trigger, yes, but not the source of the hot, sweet madness that runs through his blood and buzzes in his mind. That source has blue eyes. blood for you tonight moon yes he thinks. Or does he think? Sometimes he only is. But, images, sensations remembered, or thoughts, they are there. blood for you tonight and for Him

The wolf has crawled from the stinking cavern that is his lair. He has left behind the half gnawed, putrescent remains of an arm that once belonged to a tourist, a very careless tourist. He could have finished it easily, snapping the bones in strong jaws to feast on coagulated marrow, but he did not. Tonight, he must remain empty till the right meat is found. Tonight, he hunts special prey. He hunts the human slut who has captured the heart of his Master and lover.

The scent is here, thick on the ground. Yes, The Slut has been here. Von Zell saw him this afternoon, saw his pale, shocked face loom over the feeding pit. Then he was gone, and Garr did not pursue, not then. He knew, and the wolf knew, that Gabriel Knight the slut would return when his mistress rode the night sky, and the change was smooth and easy. And von Zell would tear out his throat for daring to fascinate the man he belonged to, who belonged to him.

Another howl, mournful and raging, bubbled up. Frederick black wolf, how can you? How can you want that whey faced smirking bitch? I will gut him, then I will fuck him. (t) Das wird es dir zeigen, Meister.

Oh, but the beast withing has it's limitations. The human part of the mind can hold an intention, but the animal part is easily distracted. It lives in the moment, and at this moment there is something... interesting nearby. He can smell it. He moves stealthily through the bushes, following the rich, warm scent that the night breeze has brought him. Prey.

He finds him easily, and keeps pace with him at a distance: observing, drinking in sight, smell, sound. A young man, more a boy, really. Alone. He is dragging his feet in the forest cover of leaves and twigs, now and then heaving a sigh. Why would one so young and bursting with life feel sad?

He catches the soft mutters, and there is still enough of his human brain left to understand them. "Dammit, Jim. Why d'ya have to be so godawful dense? Why do I have to be so fucking shy? Why aren't you here with me?"

So, Garr was not the only one with an obstinate lover. He felt a pang of kinship with the young man, and in an instant his focus shifted. He was still prey, yes. He would always be prey. But prey of a different sort.

They were too close to the lodge. He needed to drive the boy deeper into the woods. It shouldn't be hard, he need only show himself. He cut around until he was between the youth and the safety of the clearing. Then he leaped from his cover, directly into the startled boy's path. The immediate reaction was as it should have been.

Blue eyes flew wide in terror, and a shout of alarm arose as he stumbled back, turning to run. Von Zell snarled, and leapt. He hit the boy in the small of the back, driving him to the ground. He stayed on top of the thrashing body, catching the back of his soft T-shirt in his teeth and ripping it half away. Then he closed his jaws over the nape of the delicate neck, his fangs coming to dimple the tender skin of his throat on either side. The boy went limp. good pup The brown wolf tightened his jaws a fraction, letting the boy know what was possible. The slender body was wracked by a bone shaking tremor, but otherwise he didn't move. This one knew the signals of domination and submission. Garr slowly released his grip, then licked the exposed neck and back. He lapped intently for a moment, tasting the salt of sweat, and the indefinable tang of terror. It was an intoxicating mixture.

Perhaps that was why the boy managed to escape. He convulsed suddenly. Von Zell, happily bemused by his delicious taste, was taken unaware, and thrown off. Even before he could right himself, his prey had gone, running before he had even fully gained his feet.

It was to be a chase, then? So be it. The end result would be the same. Garr hunted his quarry through the hushed cathedral of the wood. Sometimes the boy drew ahead, but von Zell never lost track of him. Finally, when he must be near collapse with exhaustion, his prey went to earth. He chose a thick patch of bush and crawled inside, curling up small, hoping to evade his pursuer. Von Zell found him easily. His scent was too raw, too powerful to miss.

Remembering how the boy had thrown him off the first time, the human part of the wolf's brain suggested that strong arms and legs could hold better than merely jaws. And it would be good if the boy survived at least long enough for Garr to spill himself into his body. Living heat was preferable to cooling flesh. So von Zell transformed. It wasn't as easy shifting back to human form under his Mistress Moon's gaze as it had been letting his wolf self emerge, but he did it. He stood up from the ground as a man, in outward appearance, at least. He spared a thought for his lover, back at the lodge. Perhaps he was even now burying himself deep in the honey voiced American. . (t)Du bist noch nicht zufrieden, Frederick? Das bin ich ebenso wenig.

There was a small rustle as he neared, a quiet panting. The childlike voice said plaintively, "Jim? Ellison, that you, man?"

(t)"Nein, das Kind, ich nicht dein Jim." Von Zell pushed aside the last branches, and there he was, crouched on the ground. The youth looked up quickly, and a fleeting second of relief washed over his expression at the sight of a man instead of a ravening wolf.

The young man's thick, dark hair was tangled and filled with twigs and burrs. lines of blood marred his face, neck, and arms where he had been lashed by branches and thorns. He was quite, quite beautiful.

The boy pup started to smile tentatively. Then he saw von Zell's eyes, and screamed instead. Before he could scramble back into the thicket, Garr pounced and caught his ankles. He dragged the kicking, squirming man out into the moonlight of the open space between trees, then he fell on top of him.

(t)"Mein armer, schatz kleiner Kerl, nich ein Stuck zartlich Fleisch. Und ich bin sehr, sehr mager."

Translations:

"Das wird es dir zeigen, Meister." A lesson for you, Master.

"Du bist noch nicht zufrieden, Frederick? Das bin ich ebenso wenig" You are not satisfied, Frederick, neither am I.

"Nein, Kind, ich bin nicht dein Jim." No, child, I am not your Jim.

"Mein armer, heiher Kleiner. Du bist ein leckeres Steihen Fleisch, und ich bin sehr, sehr hungrig"
My poor, pretty little beggar, another piece of tender meat. And I am very, very hungry.
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Verliebt in Einen Jungen Wolf