For hawksandfeathers. The Dunlath Wolves (PG)
Dec 12, 2013 13:21:13 GMT 10
hawksandfeathers likes this
Post by Ankhiale on Dec 12, 2013 13:21:13 GMT 10
Title: The Dunlath Wolves
Rating: PG just to be safe
For: hawksandfeathers
Prompt: #4 - Daine/Numair AU
Summary: the wolves in Dunlath are none too friendly, animal ones most definitely included.
Notes and Warnings: Erm, so this is in no way a romance fic. (I tried, I really did.) The plotbunny bit - hard - and wouldn’t let go when I read this prompt. I hope you like it anyway. :/ Vague warnings for insanity.
*******
There were times Numair thought Onua was right - he tried so hard to be clever sometimes it ended up biting him on the ass.
Possibly literally, in this case.
Or he was just a bit too cocky to listen to others, always sure he knew better. He'd been accused of that often enough, too. All the huntsman's warnings about a strangely intelligent, man-eating wolf pack Numair had blown off as, well, the overblown half-superstitious excuses of a country woodsman trying to justify his failures. After all, wolves rarely attacked people - certainly not in bountiful seasons like this - and Numair was more concerned with human predators, anyway.
He'd recognized Tristan, Gissa, Alamid, and the others instantly. He knew in that same instant that there was absolutely no innocent explanation for their presence in Dunlath.
And so Numair had fled the human wolves in the dead of night, only to find that maybe he should've taken the warnings about real wolves more seriously.
The pack surrounded him now. Numair knew he could easily handle a few wolves - or even all of them, in daylight and on more favorable terrain - but in the darkness, surrounded on a forested mountain slope, they had the advantage.
He would have still been fine if he'd taken them down when he'd first spotted them, pacing him through the trees, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to hurt innocent animals.
Numair smirked to himself. "Ozorne always said I was too soft-hearted," he confided to the nearest wolf, a tawny female.
Her lip skinned back over her teeth in the barest of snarls; she cocked her head to look at him. The gesture was oddly human-like.
"Don't get silly, now," Numair told himself. "You should know better than to personify things."
The wolf stared at him. Perhaps she was more used to screaming prey, not prey that babbled to itself when cornered.
"I wish you'd just get on with it," he said to her.
The wolf leaped - then seemed to stagger in midair as a horse's whinny cut through the dead midnight air. Bones twisted and fur grew and receded in patches until a naked girl crouched at Numair's feet, regarding him with the same feral gaze as the wolf.
Wild magic, Numair thought, staring at her, completely dumbstruck. It has to be. She has wild magic with wolves, and enough of it that she shapeshifts uncontrollably. There was no other explanation for her artless and abrupt transition from wolf to human. The other wolves ranged about, uncertain now.
The rapid thudding of hooves on the forest floor pulled Numair back to reality. A gray mountain pony thundered to a halt next to the girl. The mare regarded her for a moment, then pushed at her shoulder with her nose.
The girl cocked her head, as if listening.
Wild magic with horses, too? Numair wondered. But wild magic with more than one species was unheard of. He watched the girl with growing concern as the pony apparently tried to communicate with her. Whatever the mare was saying wasn't registering.
The pony knew it, too. She pulled back, taking a brief moment to kick out at an enterprising wolf, then pulled her lips back in the unmistakable look of a horse preparing to bite.
"Wait," Numair said to the pony, without thinking.
The pony stopped, eyeing him balefully.
"Let me help," he murmured to her. The pony eyed him for another long, uncomfortable moment, raising a hoof consideringly, then tossed her head.
"Thank you," Numair said. Slowly, he crouched next to the girl, who skittered back against the pony's legs, eyeing him warily. The pony, much to the girl's evident frustration, refused to budge.
Numair slid his cloak off and regarded her for a moment, then swept it around the girl's shoulders with a street magician's snappy flourish. Before the girl could do more than startle and bare her teeth, the cloak was wrapped around her body, and the gentle puff of sleep magic Numair had hidden in its folds had gone to work. He caught the girl as she sagged.
It was too easy to lift her. Numair frowned down at the girl in his arms. She needed a healer, and proper meals.
The wolves, who had up until now simply paced and watched warily, were none too pleased. They snarled and closed in.
The pony whinnied, then lashed out, driving the wolves back. She gave Numair a distinctly exasperated look that he needed no wild magic to translate; he bowed as if to a grand lady - careful not to jostle his burden - and murmured, "After you."
The pony snorted, then kicked out at another wolf. The wolves, clearly used to being bossed around by a horse and just as clearly embarrassed by this, slunk away.
Numair shifted the girl to a more secure hold, then trotted down a game trail after the pony and out of Dunlath.
Rating: PG just to be safe
For: hawksandfeathers
Prompt: #4 - Daine/Numair AU
Summary: the wolves in Dunlath are none too friendly, animal ones most definitely included.
Notes and Warnings: Erm, so this is in no way a romance fic. (I tried, I really did.) The plotbunny bit - hard - and wouldn’t let go when I read this prompt. I hope you like it anyway. :/ Vague warnings for insanity.
*******
There were times Numair thought Onua was right - he tried so hard to be clever sometimes it ended up biting him on the ass.
Possibly literally, in this case.
Or he was just a bit too cocky to listen to others, always sure he knew better. He'd been accused of that often enough, too. All the huntsman's warnings about a strangely intelligent, man-eating wolf pack Numair had blown off as, well, the overblown half-superstitious excuses of a country woodsman trying to justify his failures. After all, wolves rarely attacked people - certainly not in bountiful seasons like this - and Numair was more concerned with human predators, anyway.
He'd recognized Tristan, Gissa, Alamid, and the others instantly. He knew in that same instant that there was absolutely no innocent explanation for their presence in Dunlath.
And so Numair had fled the human wolves in the dead of night, only to find that maybe he should've taken the warnings about real wolves more seriously.
The pack surrounded him now. Numair knew he could easily handle a few wolves - or even all of them, in daylight and on more favorable terrain - but in the darkness, surrounded on a forested mountain slope, they had the advantage.
He would have still been fine if he'd taken them down when he'd first spotted them, pacing him through the trees, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to hurt innocent animals.
Numair smirked to himself. "Ozorne always said I was too soft-hearted," he confided to the nearest wolf, a tawny female.
Her lip skinned back over her teeth in the barest of snarls; she cocked her head to look at him. The gesture was oddly human-like.
"Don't get silly, now," Numair told himself. "You should know better than to personify things."
The wolf stared at him. Perhaps she was more used to screaming prey, not prey that babbled to itself when cornered.
"I wish you'd just get on with it," he said to her.
The wolf leaped - then seemed to stagger in midair as a horse's whinny cut through the dead midnight air. Bones twisted and fur grew and receded in patches until a naked girl crouched at Numair's feet, regarding him with the same feral gaze as the wolf.
Wild magic, Numair thought, staring at her, completely dumbstruck. It has to be. She has wild magic with wolves, and enough of it that she shapeshifts uncontrollably. There was no other explanation for her artless and abrupt transition from wolf to human. The other wolves ranged about, uncertain now.
The rapid thudding of hooves on the forest floor pulled Numair back to reality. A gray mountain pony thundered to a halt next to the girl. The mare regarded her for a moment, then pushed at her shoulder with her nose.
The girl cocked her head, as if listening.
Wild magic with horses, too? Numair wondered. But wild magic with more than one species was unheard of. He watched the girl with growing concern as the pony apparently tried to communicate with her. Whatever the mare was saying wasn't registering.
The pony knew it, too. She pulled back, taking a brief moment to kick out at an enterprising wolf, then pulled her lips back in the unmistakable look of a horse preparing to bite.
"Wait," Numair said to the pony, without thinking.
The pony stopped, eyeing him balefully.
"Let me help," he murmured to her. The pony eyed him for another long, uncomfortable moment, raising a hoof consideringly, then tossed her head.
"Thank you," Numair said. Slowly, he crouched next to the girl, who skittered back against the pony's legs, eyeing him warily. The pony, much to the girl's evident frustration, refused to budge.
Numair slid his cloak off and regarded her for a moment, then swept it around the girl's shoulders with a street magician's snappy flourish. Before the girl could do more than startle and bare her teeth, the cloak was wrapped around her body, and the gentle puff of sleep magic Numair had hidden in its folds had gone to work. He caught the girl as she sagged.
It was too easy to lift her. Numair frowned down at the girl in his arms. She needed a healer, and proper meals.
The wolves, who had up until now simply paced and watched warily, were none too pleased. They snarled and closed in.
The pony whinnied, then lashed out, driving the wolves back. She gave Numair a distinctly exasperated look that he needed no wild magic to translate; he bowed as if to a grand lady - careful not to jostle his burden - and murmured, "After you."
The pony snorted, then kicked out at another wolf. The wolves, clearly used to being bossed around by a horse and just as clearly embarrassed by this, slunk away.
Numair shifted the girl to a more secure hold, then trotted down a game trail after the pony and out of Dunlath.