Disclaimer: I own only the characters in this fic. The world it is set in, and anything else belonging to this world, is someone else's.
Was sitting at my computer at 2 minutes to midnight when this came to me. A lot of it is based on me.
The Glorious Chase
Night was always so beautiful in the Neverwinter Wood. The trees, silent sentinels, cast shadows all across the canopy floor, and the slight breeze floating through the branches made the shadows come alive and dance as the branches swayed to the wind's tune. The full moon in the cloudless, starlit sky was a white orb, an unflawed pearl, as it shone its soft light down on the earth. The lone figure, dressed in leather armour and with a bow on his back, sat in a high branch reflecting on how he loved living here, where only the druids wandered, and then rarely. They did not come this deep into the forest. The lone figure stared for a while at the moon, then closed his eyes and let his mind go where it willed.
He found himself running after something. He knew not what it was, but he could smell its fear. It was rank upon it, like the stink on a three weeks dead orc. And he knew that he loved it. He knew it was scared of him. He knew it was running from him, and he knew he was chasing it, his four legs working furiously, his pointed, grey furry ears flat against his head, his white tail flowing behind him. His jaws opened slightly, dripped saliva in expectation, the wickedly sharp teeth glistening, the tongue hanging, and ready to taste the sweet blood. He could see it now – its brown fur, a white bobtail flashing up every now and then, its long legs striding out, a desperate attempt to outpace the pursuers. The tall, pointed antlers just visible through the darkness. It was a deer.
It was getting tired, its legs no longer carrying it as fast as they were. Teeth snapped together in anticipation, waiting to close around its neck. He was getting closer to it. He could sense his brothers and sisters, all eagerly awaiting the kill the same as he... he was gaining on the deer, his teeth snapping at its ankles, driving it into a terror beyond what it felt before, and to him it was glorious. It was the moment of delightful anticipation before the kill. His teeth snapped again at its ankles; his brothers and sisters were doing the same. He felt his teeth make contact; the deer fell; the hamstring had been severed. Still it struggled, unwilling to give in. He jumped to its neck, his canines plunging through skin and muscle like it was wet paper, looking for the artery which would release the sweet blood and finish the deer. A sudden spray hit the back of his throat; the artery had been cut. He tightened the hold his teeth had, feeling the deer's struggles get less and less frantic as its lifeblood mixed with the leaves and dirt of the forest floor. Eventually, it stopped all movement all together, and a light left its eyes. He prowled over to its belly, and set forth with his teeth, satisfying the hunger in his own belly.
The lone figure snapped awake.
The moon was still in the sky, and had hardly moved; he had not been sleeping long. And was not likely to, now. All thoughts of finding something to eat were abandoned as well. Aramil Galanodel settled back against the tree trunk, and smiled wistfully. Having a wolf for an animal companion was all very well, but he really would have to learn to discipline his mind on a full moon.
I am writing this on a full moon. I'm not going to go to sleep tonight. I will have that dream. Fiereal thinks this is very funny. I'm not inclined to agree.