Summary: Amaura Brown wasn't your average human. A joke really, because she wasn't one at all. She was a fable, a character of myth and legend, someone who wasn't supposed to exist but did. When she arrives in New York, a scent plagues her and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't block him out. Though unbeknownst to her, he couldn't get her out of his head either. Bigby Wolf/OFC.
Side note: Amaura is pronounced Uh-ma-rah, in case anyone was having trouble c:
A/N: Hello and welcome to Feral Attractions. I've finished the game recently and wow, I'm completely blown away! *crosses fingers for Season 2* I'm going to try and take elements from the comics to put into the story, but it will be more based on how things were in the game. This is taking place before the events of the game, but will lead directly into it after a certain point (which you will find out in a bit). It's all connected, so there should be a smooth transition between the two :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Fables or The Wolf Among Us. But I wish I did, lol. Bigby is life.
Enjoy your stay.
Chapter 1.) There's a new fable in town.
Wisps of tall, thick trees flew past her vision as she pushed herself to go further. She was running, and fast. Her paws glided along the earth as she made way for the portal. She didn't have to turn around to know that they were following her. Their heavy steps made it clear to every woodland creature that they were there. Too bad I'm faster. A smirk came across her snout, an arrogant glint in her golden eyes.
She put more energy into her legs, as much as she could without tiring herself out. If their loud movements didn't raise alarm, then their smell sure would. She snorted partially out of amusement and disgust. It was a mixture of shit and what you would find in a swamp. It was truly a horrible experience, just the thought of their grotesque scent made her nose burn. She had to get out of here, now. They'd never catch her, not in this form at least.
Her ears twitched, the opening was close by; she could sense it. It was another ability of hers you could say. Her senses were very sensitive and could detect anything relating to them miles and miles away. The levels of magic were no different. Up ahead, and a little to the right, she could make out an oval shape in the color of lavender. That was it! That was her escape! With a new found determination, she rushed toward her exit. A few more paces and she was out of this awful place, and away from those freaks.
And just as one paw entered the portal, she was forced backward. Something grabbed her dark chocolate brown coat and threw her to the ground. An angry growl emerged from her throat, and she snarled at the thing that dared to touch her. A huge, hulking mass peered down at her, a giant in knight's armor, a sword in his right hand and his left free. He pierced her with his gaze, an insidious grin plastered on his face. Fuck! She cursed mentally. It was him.
She was so royally screwed if she didn't get to that portal. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, it disappeared. Her only chance of escape… gone, instantly. Horror filled her golden orbs. No… no, no, no, no that wasn't supposed to happen! She suddenly felt as if a massive weight was dropped on her shoulders, she felt dejected and just so... angry.
She roared at the being who stole her chance of freedom. He chuckled darkly at her expense, he was toying with her. He liked playing with his food it seemed.
A sinister bark left her mouth before she attacked him. Her dangerously sharp teeth sunk into his left arm as she flipped over the appendage just as he swung his sword to get her off. He grunted in pain, and shouted when she yanked it out of its socket. With a final tug, she tore off the limb and threw it to the left of her. He glared at her, his searing gaze full of animosity. She growled right back at him, as she set her eyes on his throat. Predicting her movements, he temporarily dropped his weapon, and snatched her with his remaining hand.
She bit his hand and made deep gashes with her claws, demanding to be released. Well, he listened. He slammed her to the forest floor hard. She was sure that at least three ribs were broken. In her disoriented state, he seized his sword and turned to her. Fury and hate filled her eyes, pools of golden fire spewed at him. When she had found her footing it was too late. The silver cutlass went straight through her with a sickening 'shink'.
It felt like hours, but was really only a matter of minutes before he withdrew the blade. The cut he had made sizzled, charring her skin and insides. Harsh whines reverberated against the walls of her throat. Motherfucking shit that hurts! She was dying, she was going to die here… and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.
His followers were out of breath but had caught up to her by this point. They looked at him in shock, then back at her dying form. With a nod from their master they put down their weapons and started toward her. They went along the line that he made and tore her open. Blood flowed freely out of her body as helpless howls left her mouth. Her insides were all but mush by the time they were done with her. Her head was all that remained as they mounted it on a spear, a trophy for her enemies. The fire that was originally imbedded in her gold orbs faded, and seemed to close on their own. When they opened again, they were a chilling crimson filled with the promise of death.
Amaura woke with a start. Her breathing ragged and heavy, her heart beat going a million miles a minute. Sweat matted her hair and drenched her skin. Her eyes scanned around her surroundings in a hurried motion. She was in her room, she was safe. She took a deep breath and sighed. It was a reoccurring dream of hers, what she wouldn't give to make it go away. Amaura threw off her bed covers and stumbled her way to the bathroom.
She turned the handle for cold water and repeatedly splashed her face, desperately trying to get rid of the grime and aftershock of the nightmare that happened moments before. Without looking she reached for the small towel on the rack to her right. As she dried off, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror before her. Dark chocolate eyes stared back at her, analyzing her facial features. She had perfect, black plucked eyebrows, high cheek bones, an elegant straight nose -not big but not too small either-, and full pink lips. Her long, dark chocolate hair went together well with her flawless sun kissed skin. Amaura involuntarily shivered, she could almost feel his silver sword being plunged through her frame. She threw her hands up, done. She needed a shower, she felt dirty, and she wanted the images of that monster destroyed.
Quickly, Amaura peeled off her clothes and tossed her damp PJs in the laundry hamper by the door. She opened the glass doors to the shower and turned the dial to as hot as her skin would endure. Amaura was warm enough already due to the sweat, but she wanted that bastard gone, erased from her mind and her body. Of course she knew it was a nightmare, it was a manipulated memory that her brain taunted her with.
That wasn't how it ended, she jumped through the portal and she got away from his army and escaped. She was free and didn't have to worry about running anymore, about constantly looking over her shoulder for the bad guys. She was free and nothing would hold her back.
When she got through the magical gateway she landed in - what she now knew to be - the Santa Monica Mountains. It was a rare moment in time where the woman felt vulnerable and inadequate compared to the space around her. The mountains were tall and wide, and a few oak trees littered the ground around them. It was late at night, and the moon was out. She was just by the side of the road and didn't really know how to proceed at that point. Sure she got through to the mundy world, but… what now? She had debated on whether or not to cross the path before her, but seeing as how she didn't have any other options she decided to go for it.
Amaura tentatively put a paw on the asphalt, and the rest soon followed. She looked up and down the paved road, indecisive. The moon was shining brightly to her left, a small comfort in the new world she was in. Amaura always loved the moon, the way it shimmered and glistened against the night sky. Back in the homelands, it was her only friend and it was always there for her. So she decided that it would be her guide for now, and started walking the path made by its light. Suddenly a yellow glow illuminated her shadow in front of her. That can't be the sun yet, surely… Her head snapped to the source behind her and was greeted with the front of a machine slamming into her side. The impact wouldn't kill her, Amaura knew that for a fact, but damn did it hurt like a bitch.
She found herself a couple feet away from the vehicle, something else she acquired knowledge of after the encounter, and was entirely miffed that something actually hit her. Amaura was pulled out of her stupor when two bodies approached her. She was in shock, but she could still make out the figures. The girl was a witch; she could smell it on her. Pine and medicinal herbs surrounded the stranger above her. Yep, definitely a witch, they always smell like something found in the forest. From the horrified look on her face, and the regret and guilt that plagued her scent, Amaura knew that she wasn't a threat and wouldn't harm her. The boy was a warlock, sandalwood and grass circled him. He was alarmed but wary of her at the same time. Smart guy… Amaura remarked mentally with a small smirk.
"Holy shit!" the witch gasped out as she rushed to her aid. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry," she stammered as she crossed over to her. She didn't dare touch her, but she kneeled down and traced her form with her eyes truly concerned. If Amaura wasn't in her current state, she probably would have laughed at her. "There's no blood, so that's something we don't have to worry about," the girl reassured her, though it sounded more like she was trying to reassure herself. Henna tattoos sprouted from her wrists and began to cover her hands as a blue light protruded from them.
Amaura growled lowly, a warning to the woman before her. The man took a step toward the two women and her eyes latched onto his. Upon seeing the threat in her eyes, he backed off. Though he stayed and kept an eye on the girl. Her gaze landed back on the witch as she held her hands up in surrender, "I'm only checking for broken bones, I promise I won't hurt you," the sorceress spoke sincerely. Amaura's golden eyes no longer held a threatening glare, but they remained watchful. She went back to what she was previously doing, her hands glowed a bright electric blue as she ran both hands above her fur. She could feel her magic crackle at the ends of her hair. Once she completed her scan, she directed her gaze toward the animal with fire. "Nothing's broken, so you're just likely to be sore for a couple of days," her voice was glazed in unspoken apologies.
Her golden orbs regarded the strange woman carefully, partially intrigued. The witch had a darker skin tone than hers, tanner; more defined. She had sienna brown hair that stopped at the base of her shoulder blades, stalk straight regardless of the humidity. It was carelessly braided over her right shoulder, slowly starting to unravel itself. Her eyes were a deep mocha, and cerise adorned her lips. The woman in question was pretty small, short and petite. If Amaura didn't have her heightened senses, she would've never guessed that the tiny girl in front of her was a witch. A peach, ¾ sleeve, scoop neck t-shirt covered her upper torso, while dark blue, high waisted, skinny jeans cladded her lower half, and Sperry's that matched her shirt, hid her feet. Dressed pretty weird for a witch… Amaura thought absentmindedly. In her experience witches didn't wear such… girly attire. Then again most of them were old hags and not as young as she was. She added as an afterthought.
Her piercing gaze caught the man's next. He was tense, his shoulders locked and hands lightly twitching. He was scared, she could tell. Amaura could smell the fear off him a mile away. Perhaps not for himself…, but for the girl. He was cautious, aware and alert. The warlock obviously showed care for the young woman before her. Sandy blond hair sat tousled atop his head, his eyes swam with aquamarine. His lips were full and were a shade darker than the witch's; a solid ruby. He was tall, easily 6' 0'', though he was still skinny, very lean, but toned in every area that was important. He wore a plain white T-shirt and jeans, a black leather jacket shielding his arms from the midnight breeze and black Converse protecting his feet. The sorcerer stood to the side of the woman, his arms now crossed and vigilant.
"What the hell, Ybeth (pronounced E-beth)?" the warlock hissed quietly after she got up and walked over to him. Said woman looked incredulously up at him given her height of 5' 2''. "What did you expect me to do, Keith? Just leave her there?!" Ybeth spat in the same hushed manner, exasperated with the man in front of her. Keith ran a hand through his hair and over his face. "She's not our problem, if someone saw you use your magic we could get in a hell of a lot of trouble," the sorcerer defended. The witch groaned and poked him hard in the chest. "If someone saw her we'd be in a hell of a lot of trouble. You think King Cole will be understanding if we just left a 7' 0'' tall wolf walk freely amongst the mundies? When we could have done something about it? We're witches for Christ sakes, Keith! It's our job to fix things like this, I don't care if I'm still in training! It wouldn't be right to just dump her here to deal with things alone, and I won't leave one of us behind," the sorceress lectured him with a firm tone, much like a mother would a child. She wasn't backing down, she had clearly made up her mind. The warlock sighed and begrudgingly agreed. "Fine, but that means you have to teach her everything and make sure that she doesn't expose us," he stated in finality. Her mocha eyes stared into his own aquamarine, irritation clouding both of them. "Fine," she remarked evenly.
Amaura couldn't believe this, they were talking about her like she wasn't even here. With her heightened senses it was almost impossible for her to not hear them, so what were they trying to accomplish? Who the hell do they think they are? I know damn well that they're not expecting me to listen to every word and whim they usher out. They have no idea who they're dealing with… well they're about to. Amaura got to her feet in a flash, the shock gone and the bruising on her side only proving to be a nuisance not deadly. They jumped back, now overly tentative of her movements. A growl escaped her as she looked down at them, signaling that she heard their entire conversation and wasn't too pleased about it.
The two magic users raised their arms up, yielding to the mythical creature before them. And then she did something shocking, something neither of them expected… she talked. "I don't exactly appreciate you two thinking you can decide on what happens to me," her voice came out lower than she intended. They were stunned, entranced by the sound of her speech; another one of her abilities. Amaura continued, "So if we're going to get along, you both have to stay out of my business and let me deal with my own problems my way," this time her tone was slower, more seductive. She didn't actually plan to have herself sound like that, it was the mischievous beast side of her talking… literally. It's an animal thing. "However…, I would like some assistance in adjusting to the mundane world. Suppose you guys can manage that?" it was a rhetorical question, but both of them nodded and she felt satisfied with herself. "Glad we understand each other," Amaura finished sarcastically with a grin.
With a quick sniff, she smelled manufactured cotton in the trunk of their car. A blanket or some kind of tarp, I hope. She thought positively. She turned to Ybeth, upon first impressions she liked her more than she liked him. "Ybeth, right?" she asked the witch for no reason, she already knew the answer, but she figured that inquiring would be more personal; like the beginning of building trust between the two. The woman in question confirmed her already known fact as she started to run her fingers over what was left of her braid. A habit, I presume. She deduced. "Is there a blanket or something I could borrow for a bit?" Amaura questioned respectfully.
The witch smiled and went to go get it, when the warlock chose to but in. "Why would you need a blanket? You 'cold'? All that fur not enough?" Keith challenged, mocking her statement. Oh, she most certainly didn't like him. Did he seriously think that was clever? Her golden eyes burned through his aquamarine, searing his soul. "I gather that being in the human world requires a human body, yes?" Amaura facetiously asked, sickly sweet. The man gulped and said nothing, but stood his ground trying to show that he wasn't afraid.
He was though, she smelt it in traces of his musk. "Which is exactly what I'm trying to do, you fucking moron. So the next time you have a smart comment why don't you keep it to yourself, eh Goldilocks?" she sneered at the sorcerer, her tone snarky and aggressive. Ybeth glanced at Keith over her shoulder and smirked as she trotted over to the trunk to retrieve the item. The warlock glared at her before looking away at the ground, huffing out a few curses in the process. Yeah, you better learn your fucking place pretty boy. Talk back to me like that again, and I'm going to have to put hands on you. And trust me, it's not going to be the way you want it. Ybeth came back with the blanket and opened it, covering her so she could transform. The cloth was pure cotton just as she had detected; it was a bright turquoise color that she surprisingly liked. When she checked that it would conceal her enough, she closed her eyes and felt herself getting smaller and more compact. Bones popped here and there, the casual tearing of skin happened more than once, and with a final groan- ta da there she was! Lying on the ground crouched in her human form. The night breeze caressed her bare skin, and demonstrated that being stark naked probably wasn't a good idea. Shit! She cursed, slightly shivering. With her thick coat, she could barely feel the wind's presence. Amaura gently took the cloth from the witch, careful to not rip the fabric, and wrapped it around herself into a makeshift dress.
The gold faded away from her irises and was replaced with a dark chocolate brown. She stared at the woman in front of her and smiled, a real smile. "Thanks," Amaura said grateful. Ybeth looked up at her in awe, she'd never seen something like that happen before. Amaura laughed quietly, even in her human form she was taller than her. What a midget. She could tell that they would be good friends. She directed her stare at Keith next. His jaw was practically on the floor, speechless. Though, if it was because of her physical features or her transformation she couldn't tell; until she faintly caught a whiff of his arousal. She smirked at the warlock. "Wolf got your tongue?" Amaura taunted jokingly. And that was just the start of a beautiful friendship that blossomed between the three of them.
Amaura shook her head, ridding her mind of the memory. She did everything one was supposed to do in a shower, so she turned off the water and opened the glass door. She picked up a burgundy colored towel and began to dry herself off. The effects of her nightmare were gone and erased. She was squeaky clean and that put her in a good mood. As she began to make her way out of the bathroom, she paused in front of the mirror again. Amaura felt a familiar tingling whenever the animal within her was stirred. Her dark chocolate orbs were replaced with gold ones. No, she could never be squeaky clean. But it was a start. She sighed. The past was the past, people change and move on. That included her… even if she was a wolf with a dark history.
And that was the first chapter! :D
What do you think? Love it, hate it? Questions, comments, concerns? Let me know! I'll be here :)
More details about Amaura and her past as well as her new friends to be revealed in the future.
Stay tuned.