Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot of this story.
Warnings: None
Word count: 1,044

Story one: Moony

Ye may kill for yourselves, and your mates, and your cubs as they need, and ye can; But kill not for the pleasure of killing, and seven times never kill man!
~Rudyard Kipling, "The law of the Jungle"

He innately knew this forest. It was familiar in a way his home had never been. He was powerful here, in this forest of dark shadow and brilliant life. He was on top. All life bowed to him as it's master. He could kill when he wished, for no reason at all, other than to feel powerful. But to abuse his power would be to commit a crime greater than anything Voldemort ever did. And he would be punished as such. He was already treading the natural line. A predator was so easily tipped off his throne of death, just a small gust of wind could send the great fury tumbling down lower, even lower than his prey.

Moony stopped in a small, moonlit clearing. He twisted his head and caught sight of both his damnation and salvation. His mistress moon. She saved him from the hurt and loneliness of his human skin. The pain of losing some of his pack, and from the helplessness of being unable to help the few surviving members. She freed him. She also damned him to living the life of a second class citizen. She damned him into hiding and aging early. Yet, as a wolf he felt so, so young.

In this forest, too, the War's destruction was evident. There was a scent of death and fire on the air. It reminded Moony of home in a heart wrenching way It made him want to escape the human would and all it's convoluted terror and political games. He wanted, needed, to be free of the restraining laws the new Ministry put up. They were punishing the remaining dark creatures for their involvement in the war. They didn't understand that it was the laws that drove them to the Dark side in the first place.

The logical part of the wolf swung it's head about, trying to get a sense of direction. Remus had no idea where they were and Moony didn't care. All the wolf wanted to do was run. To escape and to be free. Remus was reluctant to give up control. Worried that his beast would harm something. Remus didn't understand the power. Oh, he felt it, but he rejected it. Thought it dirty and threw it away. Remus was the reason that they were was already so close to falling down. If Moony let him have his way, they would starve. Remus being too kind hearted to even kill for sustenance.

The man was a hypocrite in that. He killed in the war. He killed Death Eaters and innocents alike, if his spells didn't hit their mark. He morned the innocents and damned the Death Eaters. Everyone takes losses in war. Remus didn't dwell on the ones that didn't relate to him. The lives of those close were always on his mind, extinguished or not. Even as Moony. The wolf howled at his losses, understanding them in a different way. More selfish. He mourned more their company than their personalities. All wolves were made to be group creatures. Those without packs slowly went mad.

They were following the same path to insanity even though they weren't alone. Remus hardly slept , when he did his dream scape was plagued by his inner demons. Moony tried to comfort his other side but was pushed away constantly. Moony didn't understand. Why wouldn't Remus listen? They both knew Moony was Alpha. His underling should listen. If they were to survive this they needed to work together. Remus needed to listen to himself. And Moony would happily subsurve to Remus when asked. Remus never asked. He wordlessly demanded. This didn't sit well with the Alpha and he rebelled.

When they ran, Remus hid. He didn't want to know what was going on. It was rare that he would even attempt to control Moony in this form. When he did it was almost always to undermine the wolf's carefully laid plans. He would sabotage a perfectly good hunt and the prey would get free. He would deter their run and get Moony lost, far away from shelter and water. Remus was indirectly killing them both. If Remus wouldn't eat or sleep in his form and wouldn't allow Moony to do they same, they would, truly, become lower than dirt.

Moony wouldn't, couldn't allow that. The more Remus shoved him aside in skin, the more he would shove Remus aside in fur. He would not die because he lacked basic necessitates. If they were going to die, it would be on his choosing. If Moony was going to die he didn't want to just show his belly to the first Alpha he saw. No, He would go down fighting for his pack. They would see how much he loved them.

What little of a pack he had left. The Fiery she-human had died protecting her pup. The Fiery one's mate had died protecting her and the pup. His Second had died protecting the same pup. Though, he hadn't been alone. Now that Moony thought of it, the pup had been instrumental to all of his pack's death. The pup wasn't even there anymore. He had left to start his own pack. Something Remus despaired in. In a way, Moony blamed the Pup for his loneliness and Remus' reluctance to form a truce.

Moony couldn't have that. He would abandon the pup if it meant saving themselves. Remus balked at the idea. He couldn't imagine leaving Harry behind. That is if Harry was still his. He hadn't contacted Remus, not that Remus made all efforts to contact Harry. He, too, blamed Harry, at least a little, for the destruction of his life and pack.

There was nothing holding them here. They could leave whenever they wanted. Moony wanted to move constantly, it was in his nature. Remus didn't want to move at all. The wolf would attempt to get them as far away from their rotten shack as he possibly could. He always left them near shelter or a town and never went off in winter. He knew once he changed back that Remus would be upset and frightened, but that's what one who disobeys should get. Moony knew there was no danger. Remus didn't have the same knowledge, or instincts.

Did ya like it? Hate it? The future chapters won't be any better if you don't let me know.
Thanks,
Kings And A Queen.