A/N;

The title of this will probably change because I don't trust translators XD I'm waiting for my friend that knows french or not whether it translates properly. 'Song of the Wolves' it's meant to be, but as said will probably change XD

This is mainly just something fun for myself when I can't sleep xD It's a stupid little Nonsense A/U fic. If that isn't obvious enough. Don't worry, don't worry, I'm still writing my relatively normal albeit rather strange fics. This is just a guilty pleasure, a writing experience and I'm uploading it incase some people get the same lolzy kicks I do.

For those that need reasoning behind this as well as want to know a little tidbit about myself, I'm a fopllklore nut. So mix that with my Resident Evil fixation, and well. Just don't ask questions.

There are meant to be little tidbits at the ends of each chapter to explain well, you know. Creatures mentioned. Not everything will be spot on, so yeah. Don't kill me.

Characters so far : Chris, Claire, Joseph, Leon, Barry (mentioned).

Resident Evil - Not Mine, it belongs to Capcom.

There are usually two types of train rides known throughout the world. Those that are bumpy and noisy, making passengers have to hold on tightly to their seats, and of course the opposites. The train rides that were quiet and serene, usually with carriages that somehow remained old and rustic but comfortable, charming.

A steady, easy traveling train made its way through a lush green countryside, the rail lines barely visible in its surroundings. The tracks ran below a tall, slanted hill set on one side, while a beautiful view of the ocean could be seen over the adjacent side. The area looked rather untouched, other than the rail lines of course, and the road above the hills.

A few sea birds soared high above, their colours blocked out by the sun above. It had been raining, hours early, at a different stop along the routes. The skies had cleared further down, which allowed the sun above to highlight the view.

"I can't believe this… This is stupid!"

But of course there was always at least one person who wasn't happy.

"The sun's too bright, the grass outside is dreary, the ocean reeks and this train ride is bumpy!"

The red-head exhaled loudly, drawing it out for some time while crossing her arms tightly against her chest. Leaning back against the seat's soft cushion, she craned her neck back, head resting against the top. She kicked the back of her heels against the polished, wooden support, sending a few soft vibrations through it. She huffed, concentrating on the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge the world out side.

"No it's not. You're just complaining."

A hand brushed some hair from her eyes, causing the young woman to fidget and swat at the wrist, shoving the offender's shoulders soon after. She huffed, tossing her brother a glare as he simply chucked in response to her actions.

"What's wrong? Having withdrawals about the old city lights and cafes already?" He jested, nudging her with his elbow. Her glare didn't let up, as she seemed steadfast in her distaste to whatever the situation must have been.

"So what if I am? That was our home, Chris. What's happening to us isn't fair – At all." Her voice was harsh and sharp, but let slip the devastated she was. Her brother simply shook his head, leaning forward. He rested his elbows on his knees, glancing at his sister from the corner of his eye. In truth… He knew she was right.

"There is… There was nothing we could do about it. You know that, Claire, now stay seated and hush up."

"We could have killed them." She snapped, sitting up straight. Chris shifted, looking his sister dead in the eyes. A look that would have made most flinch, nearly including his kid sister, but her gaze held strong.

"And if I agreed with you now," He began, his words slow and stern, making sure she picked up the seriousness in each one, "Could you look back and say you would have killed them?"

She faltered at the question, hesitantly looking away from Chris. Although she thought over it, she knew very well her answer. "U… Uh, no…"

He gave his sister a pat on the shoulder, shaking his head. "You're too soft natured for all of that violent talk, Claire." He said, "We're just going to have to grin and bare it, get used to the new place."

She muttered slightly, frowning as she did so. Chris gave her another nudge, as if trying to coax her into accepting the situation.

"… You know, Claire did have a point. The food's kind of sorta really horrible."

The siblings quickly looked at the young man sitting across from them. He hadn't spoken up in some time, which was certainly against his character, and they had apparently completely forgotten his pretense across from them. They both blinked, getting almost startled.

"Oh. Yeah. Right. How long have you been here, Joseph?" Chris cocked an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his knees again. Joseph, in turn, brought his hand to his face.

"The whole time, Chris!" Joseph answered, unable to fight a smile. "My god, man, you're meant to be all Mr. Leader and you can't even remember I'm here! Numbskull."

"Hey hey hey, I'm tired as all hell, don't blame me for getting a little forgetful." Chris rebutted, "And what do you mean the food was horrible? It wasn't that bad!"

"Dude, are you kidding me? We've been on a plane, and this is our second train! You've had nothing to do but sleep!" He stated, throwing his arms up in the air, flailing about, "And what do you mean the food wasn't that bad?!"

"Shh!" Both men quickly covered their mouths. Claire continued to hold a finger over her lips as a stewardess, one that had brought their food earlier, casually worked past, wheeling through a trolley. As soon as she passed, all three breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing they needed was to be kicked off of the train. Claire wouldn't take it too fondly, that was for sure.

"Are… The others coming?" Claire's voice broke the silence that formed soon after. While she lacked the displeased looked, she seemed somewhat more… Down. Chris half smiled, trying to think of an answer. He knew exactly what she meant, but couldn't answer her with a response he was sure about.

"If they get dobbed in too, I gave Barry the location…" He explained, linking his fingers together, "… So really it's only a matter of time."

Claire sighed in response, long and sorrowful. First, kicked out… Chased out of home, then to get separated from her friends, or rather her family. It had all been far too quick, and as much as she complained and cried about it, it still had yet to sink into her mind.

"Now that that's all out of the way..." Chris began, taking a glance out of the window, "How are you feeling about moving to this place Claire-Bear?"

"Completely… And utterly... Bummed out."

"Today is not going to be a good day…" The blonde mumbled as he shoved the sheets onto the ground. "No, this whole week is not going to be a good week."

He looked off to the side, taking a slow glance at his door.

The room was relatively clean… Other than the mess. The bed sheets joined some stray articles of clothes beside the bed, perhaps the cleanliest part of the room. He knew quite well that he was practically blind in the mornings. Or, afternoons. Whenever he managed to wake himself up.

With the sun shining in his face, he knew it was time to get up. Even if he was quite reluctant to do so. Mumbling under his breath, he rolled to his side to sling his feet over the edge of the bed.

Thud.

"Hello floor, how are you today? Good, I would hope? You wouldn't have given me such a friendly greeting if not." He muttered, easing himself up off the ground. He rubbed his nose, which the floor seemed particularly fond of, and managed to sit up on his knees. Still rather groggy, he lifted his hand to the bedside table, patting around, fingers tapping, trying to find something he couldn't actually remember.

His ID? Badge? Gun? Glasses? … He didn't wear glasses. Realising this he stood up, grabbing his keys and shoving them into his pocket. It had become a habit of his to sleep in his work pants lately, either too tired or lazy to change either in the morning or when he arrived back at work.

He'd only been living in this place for a month and he was already worn out. It was a lovely place, that was true, but… Somehow, it managed to be draining. Yes, this little town had problems, every town did. That was probably why the police department over here was hiring. He was lucky enough to get a job here, quickly.

He mumbled again, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to fix it. Bit tidier, but as usual, it simply took to the habit of flipping over his eyes. Stupid unintentional, genetic emo fringe.

He kicked the clothes out of the way, making a path wide enough for him to walk over to the glass, slide door. He grabbed the handle, shoving it lazily open. The sea breeze blew in, warm and with a decent scent to it. The floor of the balcony was rather warm, not cold as he would expect back in his hometown.

He crossed his arms over the railings, glancing out over the view. His apartment was on the fourth floor, the building's foundation elevated by the rising slope it was built on. The setup reminded him of the Villas in Italy, though he'd only visited there when he was a child.

He breathed in, closing his eyes and simply enjoying the space around him. Even though he had a bad feeling, he couldn't help but feel some sort of relief about the place whenever he stood to see such a view. It had to be the mid afternoon at least, as from what he could tell so far, the whistles of trains could never be heard in the morning.

"Put a shirt on!"

"No, keep it off!"

His eyes quickly flew open as he heard the shouts, suddenly reminded that not only where there other people in the apartment, but also other people in the opposite buildings.

Alright. The locals of this town were awfully vocal. And it was still taking a lot of time to get used to. Remembering this, he swiftly ducked back inside and shut the doors, closing the curtains.

Okay, perhaps he should put a shirt on. Or maybe he shouldn't? Yes, today was definitely going to be a three coffee morning.

Werewolves

The werewolves in Chanson des loups are splices of
Folklore stemming mainly from France. The werewolf featured
in the French poem, Bisclavret, had a controlled, sweet and
loving nature until the appearance of the knight that married his wife.
Self control and reasoning borrows from this story.

France for some time appeared to have two variations of
Werewolves, the loup-garou and lubins/lupins. While the
Former were aggressive, the latter were usually female and
Shy in comparison.

The werewolf trait is hereditary within this story.
One family tree may be more placid than another.
Full canine form can be taken at any time (given
That the individual is well rested), but are forced to
Take an anthropomorphic form during a full moon.

A/N; I'm still trying to work out what everyone is. I have quite a few down. Hey, you might wanna read just to know what everyone's been assigned XD

I also realised, it's fun writing Leon having a bad day 8D

Yes I'm sad I didn't reach 2k ;A;