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 Wolves Without Teeth
Jun 16 2017, 04:37 PM


(Closed to Alastair)

”And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon. Little boy blue and the man in the moon.” The woman’s eyes lingered on the female in front of her who detested her reign over their pack. Her voice traveled softly across the tent as the tips of her fingers gently caressed the silver tabby in her lap. A gentle purr erupted from the creature as it swept against her legs deciding it had enough of the woman’s petting. Figures. Noodles always had a way of showing his own angst towards her after everything that happened though she doubted his puny little brain could even recall.

”So, you’ve come in here once more expecting us to hear you out on this matter.” Sybil stood and paced the room until she was barely even a foot away. Her dark eyes hovered over the figure before she clung to the necklace around her throat. ”Do I need to remind you of your place?” The werewolf was far beyond caring what Anise had to say about all this. ”Who was it that saved you?” Her voice became low and the stance she took was near predatory.

Alistair had done quite literally everything within his power to protect the pack and after everything her and her husband had gone through to get where they were there wasn’t a shred of doubt in her mind. The man would do absolutely anything for them and he’d proven that to the witch long before they stood at the altar and exchanged vows. From close behind came a long yowl of disdain from the tabby as it stretched out and sat eloquently on the chair she’d been sitting in mere moments before.

The woman before her looked between her gaze and the necklace that lay across her chest as brazen as could be. One of the very fangs collected happened to belong to Anise and begrudgingly, the woman spied the two leaders before stepping forth and coming even closer. ”I don’t think you have it in you to try me again, Sybil.” The blonde ground her teeth together as she spoke and within that split moment, Cece spied a pearly white right in front that sat loosely next to an empty space. A look of pure malice came over the brunette as she closed the gap between them.

”You’re afraid.” She breathed into the woman’s ear before pulling back. Of course, the entire pack had been worrying over the last few months. The signs were there and it all seemed like it was just a matter of time but there was a glimmer of hope that the Matriarch held tightly onto. ”If you think for one second that I won’t --” her voice faltered for a moment as the man came up from behind clearing his throat. ”Alastair,” the witch breathed out before taking a step back and allowing him to say whatever he wished.

If anyone could convince Anise to back down, it was probably Alastair himself. Her eyes cast down not daring to look him in the eye. There were at times that Sybil was much harsher than he may have liked but at least she got the job done. The other members of the pack certainly didn’t agree with the show of force she used but what they thought didn’t matter much in her opinion. They were simply just a few numbers that made up their little clan. The only one that mattered was her husband and she’d made that clear enough long before now.



Clan Matriarch ✘ 4 posts ✘ Member ✘ Werewolf
Female ✘ 28 Years Old ✘ Ravenclaw ✘ Graduate ✘ Offline
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Jun 18 2017, 10:14 PM


Alastair stretched out in an old leather armchair, with a cheek resting on his fist and barely listening to the words his wife crooned to their tabby cat; just another trophy among many. In a way, Noodle was luckily. Sybil could have chosen to turn him into a fur stole after what he did to her, but the battle-hardened brunette seemed delighted with his lifelong sentence of being trapped in the body and mind of a feline. He was also too busy figuring out the third wheel in the room to bother much about whether the human and animal were playing nice. The pack had far more pressing matters.

Most of the clan’s members owed the Alpha their lives, and the woman before them belonged to that number. Anise had been part of the original pack, who were hunted out of their home until one day he broke free and made a stand. As a Beta, defying his leader had been risky, but it was one he’d been willing to take for the sake of the clan. Battered and bruised for his disobedience, the wizard managed to convince several wolves to run away with him one night. Within days, those who remained behind were slaughtered. Since then, he’d done everything within his power to ensure the safety of his pack, including moving them to a country where hunting Werewolves is illegal, and recruiting to build safety in numbers. Although he wasn’t the strongest, he had more than earned their loyalty. Making the hard decisions and killing to keep their secret, that was also on his shoulders.

The wizard quirked a brow while Sybil reminded the Beta of this, but otherwise remained silent. He was curious to see how the Matriarch would handle the situation, and to see if she could keep her cool despite the obvious challenge to her authority. Alastair supposed that, in a way, he too was a sort of trophy. Almost as though Sybil wanted to tell the world; ’Look at me, folks. I fought my way to the top and won a shiny Alpha trophy, and don’t you forget it.’ Well, how could they forget? They couldn’t when she wore any losing challenger’s teeth around her pretty little neck. If he actually believed for one second that the lower ranking wolf was a threat to his wife, the man would have magically restrained her by now.

He watched as Sybil stalked closer to the other woman, as a wolf might do to assess weakness in their prey. ”You’re afraid,” his wife announced, breathing into Anise’s ear with an expression that usually meant she was itching to show her dominance over the other woman. Preferably with force. Alastair shook his head in dismay and rose from his seat, reaching out automatically for the tabby as it yowled to be picked up. For a creature in it’s current predicament because of the wizard it was currently rubbing it’s face on, Noodle had taken quite a shining to him. ”If you think for one second that I won’t -”

As he reached the two women, Alastair cleared his throat and cut the Matriarch off in the middle of speaking. Normally, only a fool would interrupt, yet she stood back in deference to him and cast her gaze to the floor. And so things went with clan hierarchy in matters that involved the pack and its individual components. ”That’s enough, Sybil,” he stated calmly, staring at Anise as though sizing up a chunk of meat

From the crook of his elbow, Noodle hissed and the woman flinched as though the cat had passed judgement. He knew every member of the pack almost as well as knew himself. ”Anise here is just afraid. As afraid of you right now as she is of these… rumours.” It was true that he didn’t always agree with her methods of keeping the pack in line. That wasn’t to say a show of force didn’t have a place in the workings of a pack. Far from it. He simply chose to earn their loyalty, respect, and obedience through less violent methods - unless he couldn’t.

He dropped the cat on the floor despite its protests and stood just inches away. It was a gamble, knowing that Anise could scratch his eyeballs out quite easily from this distance, but it was all part of keeping calm in the group when others like this women were sewing the seeds of fear among the rest. ”Anise, I moved us here because it’s illegal to hunt Werewolves in this country,” he spoke in a grave but serene tone that he imagined teachers would use on small children in order to get the message of a fable across. ”Yes, they still mistrust those who are different, but it will hinder those who wanted to kill us in the past. We always knew they would come looking for us when we disappeared. We just need to be prepared, and united against that common enemy in case that time ever comes - but that time is not now and may never come.”

”You know I would die for any of you,” his pale blue eyes searched the blonde’s face beseechingly, willing her to listen for her own sake, ”I have risked my life to save your’s more than once and will continue to do so, Anise. You would do well to remember that may leaders would not extend that courtesy. Indeed, our previous Alpha would have let us all die if I hadn’t got you out of there.” It felt as though he was monologuing, and the man despised having to do that. He choked back his annoyance and patted the Beta companionably on her upper arm as if to reinforce their closeness as a pack.

Stepping back, he narrowly avoided treading on the darned cat, who yowled indignantly and bolted across the room, and waited for her to mull over a response. If it was the wrong one, then Sybil would get exactly what she wanted - to beat the tar out of the woman and show her who is the proverbial top dog. He could not risk the panic spreading.



Clan Alpha ✘ 4 posts ✘ Member ✘ Werewolf
Male ✘ 35 Years Old ✘ Durmstrang ✘ Graduate ✘ Offline
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Jun 23 2017, 07:55 PM


Many would have looked at the woman and only seen a troubling appearance, perhaps speculating that she’d become completely insane by the pack mentality that managed to take over her daily life. Sybil wasn’t one to focus on that, and her mind was particularly focused elsewhere as the man rattled on trying to convince the woman before them to back down. Instead, her hand was placed delicately across her abdomen in almost a coddling manner and she had her eyes trained to the threat that lay in wait. Anise was nothing to her, nor was any other member of the pack, but she’d kept that little information to herself.

”I have risked my life to save your’s more than once and will continue to do so, Anise. You would do well to remember that may leaders would not extend that courtesy. Indeed, our previous Alpha would have let us all die if I hadn’t got you out of there.” Her attention flicked to her husband in admiration as her mind settled on the horrors that they had experienced not long ago. There was nothing but respect in the highest degree held towards him for what he’d done for them; for her. Anise would never see it that way though and Sybil knew that the minute the witch had stormed their tent.

”I’d rather die here and now than be hunted.” The lowly woman hissed as her hand reached out towards the man, a violent pose and an expression filled with complete malice. Out of instinct, Sybil rushed forward with her wand in hand. ”Fracturam,” the matriarch managed to spit out in a low tone as she focused all her attention on the woman, her mind imagining the gentle skull dissipating into nothing until Anise began to shake and grip onto the sides of her head. Shrieks pierced the air and echoed throughout the encampment until a loud thud followed, leaving the blonde crumpled in middle of the floor.

With brows furrowed, the surviving witch reached to place her hand back on her stomach and stood there in absolute horror, not at what she’d just done but because of the potential threat that could have been brought to her family. Though she’d yet to admit what she had recently found out, and the fact that she would never be able to carry her cub to full term, the woman still had venom running through her veins - a poisonous aptitude to protect what was hers. It was a fire burning deep within that she couldn’t quench, and a terrible fate that there was no escaping no matter how hard she wished upon every star as far as the eye could see.

”I suppose we’ll need a new apothecary, dear.” The woman said through a trained monotonous tone. ”I'll go find us a replacement who will actually be loyal to you.” The witch sneered as she looked at the lifeless form before meeting her husband’s gaze. It was quite often that Sybil had managed to do something like this as she’d become violent by nature ever since she was turned. It would be no surprise that she’d made that kind of fast-acting decision. Kill or be killed. What worried her the most was the man finding out what was behind that drive now when it was so close to the full moon.

Just a few more nights.



Clan Matriarch ✘ 4 posts ✘ Member ✘ Werewolf
Female ✘ 28 Years Old ✘ Ravenclaw ✘ Graduate ✘ Offline
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Jun 24 2017, 11:40 AM


After so long being shunned and hunted for what they were, it didn’t come as a surprise that a number of the pack had grown restless. He should have seen it coming a long time ago. They’d been jumping at shadows since before he escaped with them, and he’d been naive enough to think it would stop when they reached a place more tolerant to their kind. The people here still despised Werewolves, but there were laws in place to protect them.

The wizard’s sense of unease grew as he watched Anise; the pack’s apothecary. She was a valuable member of the pack, always given the respect she deserved, and yet she was one of the malcontents who clung to her fear as though it were some kind of totem. A pained expression crossed his face. Hadn’t he been through the same horrors as they had? Hadn’t he suffered with them, and laid awake at night filled terror while they wondered if this one might be their last? Didn’t he automatically feel that cold sense of dread like the fingers of a corpse at the back of his neck when he woke up in the morning? He lived, ate, breathed and fought just as they did, so he knew all too well that the mindset of the hunted wasn’t an easy one to break.

”I’d rather die here and now than be hunted,” Anise hissed, adopting a fighting stance from which she could easily spring at any moment. Her hateful eyes darted towards his throat. His packmate planned to go straight for the kill. Alastair instinctively tensed and took a step back, waiting for her to make the first move in a fight the man wasn't sure he’d win. Then, before Anise had a chance, Sybil moved between them with her wand raised, and cast a spell that had the Beta screaming in agony as she clutched her head. The man had time to stop it. He could have asked Cece to lower her wand and give the tortured woman another chance. Then again, maybe this was for the best. Losing Anise would be a great blow to the pack, but now more than ever they needed to be strong and work together. Fractures in the clan would weaken it, and they would need everything they had to either fight back or run if the hunters caught up.

And instead of pulling rank on his wife, the wizard did absolutely nothing to save the woman he’d risked life and limb for on countless occasions. The Alpha even forced himself to watch as the blonde’s corpse collapsed to the floor. He owed her that much, at least. ”I suppose we’ll need a new apothecary, dear.” Tearing his eyes away from his fallen pack member, Alastair noticed his wife covering her stomach, and it wasn’t the for the first time, either. ”I'll go find us a replacement who will actually be loyal to you.” It hadn’t escaped him that Sybil’s actions were even more vicious than usual - and something made him wonder if it was more than the approaching full moon to blame. Werewolves became ill quite easily, after all.

”Sybil, you can’t kill everybody in the pack who poses a threat,” he warned, although his heart wasn’t really in the admonition. Even to his ears, that came across like something he had to say just for the sake of saying it. ”But what’s done is done, and I can’t say I’m entirely sorry it ended this way. Rather her dead than you or I, and as you say, we can find a new apothecary. One that’s loyal to the pack.” He sighed wearily as he moved closer to wrap his arms around the brunette’s waist and look into her deep, chocolate brown eyes.

Things hadn’t always been like this between them. As with everything she did, Sybil had fought tooth and nail to get where she was today - and she had the necklace to prove it. He hadn’t noticed the witch as more than just somebody he had to look after for the longest time. She’d risen through the ranks with her wand and fists, clawing at every chance to prove she had a place at the top. While Alastair protected the pack, Cece protected him.

”At least you didn’t get bloodstains on the rug this time. They’re a pain to remove and unsettle our guests. Speaking of which, please remember to get rid of the body.” He pointed quickly at the blonde strewn across the floor. Alastair had to think of how to address the pack about what just happened, and having a body lying on the floor of their home wouldn’t exactly help his frame of mind. ”Before you go anywhere, though,” he kissed the woman’s forehead gently, ”are you ill?”



Clan Alpha ✘ 4 posts ✘ Member ✘ Werewolf
Male ✘ 35 Years Old ✘ Durmstrang ✘ Graduate ✘ Offline
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Jun 24 2017, 05:04 PM


”Sybil, you can’t kill everybody in the pack who poses a threat,” the soft yet disappointed voice of her husband rang clear in her mind but it didn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had completely enraptured the wolf. She knew what was coming and there was no way to stop it, but she’d be damned if it were by any one else’s hand besides her own. But what’s done is done, and I can’t say I’m entirely sorry it ended this way. Rather her dead than you or I, and as you say, we can find a new apothecary. One that’s loyal to the pack.” She nodded and closed her eyes, if only to push away the harrowing reality, as she felt the familiar gentle embrace.

While he looked deep into her eyes, a flicker of pain flashed across her normally hardened gaze and she wondered if he noticed the usual spark behind them was missing. In an attempt to avoid any abnormalities to be seen, the witch laid her head upon his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him soaking in the affection as if it would all soon disappear. ”At least you didn’t get bloodstains on the rug this time. They’re a pain to remove and unsettle our guests. Speaking of which, please remember to get rid of the body.” Her mind instantly sank elsewhere and she pulled away for a brief moment to look down at the corpse in which he pointed to.

”I’ll get the new pup to take care of that before I take my leave.” She said monotonously. If anything, this new wolf wasn’t one she felt she’d ever trust. The girl had come to them looking for sanctuary and potentially risking the pack even more than what they were already dealing with. However, she pulled her weight and that was enough to satisfy both herself and Alastair for the time being.

”Before you go anywhere, though,” the man said catching her attention before pressing his lips gently to her forehead, ”are you ill?” His questioning couldn’t have come at a worse time and the moment it was out in the open, her hand shot instinctively to cradle her torso before meeting his gaze. Dropping her hand away as if to dust off the innate action as something much less than what it really was, her gaze turned elsewhere.

”I’m fine,” she uttered softly before walking over to grab her purse. It held everything she’d need to make her way to diagon, or even knockturn if she was feeling up to it. Wherever she could find someone to help them along with their newest issue, that was where she would head to. ”I suppose it’s just being so close to the full moon.” Her eyes settled on her husband's face. A part of her wanted to tell him so desperately but she knew very well that there was little the man could do to stop the inevitable. There was nothing that could change the outcome of the coming days and all it would do is worry the leader far more than he needed.

With the pack growing as restless as they were, there could be no signs of weakness from either of the power couple. In which case, Sybil chose to bottle everything up inside and pretend that everything was fine; for his sake. After everything they’d been through together, it was hard to keep such a secret from him and the witch knew that, despite the urge to tell him everything, doing so would only cause further damage. In this moment, she was on her own and would have to deal with things as they came along.



Clan Matriarch ✘ 4 posts ✘ Member ✘ Werewolf
Female ✘ 28 Years Old ✘ Ravenclaw ✘ Graduate ✘ Offline
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Jun 25 2017, 07:26 PM


(Godmoding approved)

Although he didn’t like the response to asking his wife to get rid of the body she’d left on the floor it was soon put out of his mind. The moment he asked Sybil whether she was feeling ill, the Matriarch’s hand dropped to cover her stomach again. And the way she cast aside her gaze? That made him more sure than ever there was something wrong. ”I’m fine,” she walked away to grab her purse, still not looking at him. He understood that deference and respect were a large part of pack mentality. He also knew this wasn’t either of those. I suppose it’s just being so close to the full moon.” She finally looked at him, and he was far from satisfied by it. Sure, the woman had to appear strong in front of the pack, but if she was sick, she didn’t have to hide it from him of all people.

Before she could turn her back on him and walk out, the wizard strode forward and clasped her gently around the wrist to get her attention. ”You don’t have to be strong all of the time, Cece,” his tone remained light despite the worry he felt. Alastair frowned, an all too familiar crease beginning to form between his eyes. He wouldn't stop her if she wanted to leave. Besides, the pack needed their Wolfsbane and with the full moon approaching in two days they also needed a new potioneer to make it. He dreaded to think how bad it could get around here with an entire clan of feral Werewolves when the full moon finally came.

The man sighed as another problem stuck him. Addressing the death of a pack member wouldn’t be his only problem today. He would have to make preparations for the worst and put into motion a plan to keep all of them contained, while hoping for the best. ”But I can’t ask you to stay here with me, either. If we don’t have Wolfsbane, we’ll have to lock everybody up for the full moon, and none of us want to be caged. Not again.” Pain washed over his face as he thought back to his first years after being bitten and the way his kind were routinely mistreated. Alastair had been locked in cages and worse in his youth.

”Take care of yourself out there.” He let go of the woman’s wrist and wordlessly took a pouch from his trouser pocket before pressing it into her hand. ”Just in case you don’t have enough money with you to pay the potion maker to keep their mouth shut.” Intimidation would probably work just as well, but most people willing to help his pack wanted their palms greasing first.

Sybil muttered something that sounded like a vague agreement, took the pouch and opened the entrance to their tent. ”Ramona, get your mutt backside in here,” the witch yelled for their newest member, sticking her head out of the flap briefly. He didn’t trust the newcomer yet. She’d asked them to shelter her, and they could very well be taking a huge risk in doing it. Alastair gritted his teeth but otherwise said nothing in response. He already had enough to be dealing with, without adding a pissed off wife to the list.



Clan Alpha ✘ 4 posts ✘ Member ✘ Werewolf
Male ✘ 35 Years Old ✘ Durmstrang ✘ Graduate ✘ Offline
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