"Where there are wolves, there are ravens. Ravens follow wolves around a lot, mostly because they just seem to like them. They aren't known to follow other predators and they prefer to eat with the wolves instead of alone. Ravens get easy food out of the relationship, and wolves get protection; the ravens fly above and alert the wolves to danger. Ravens and wolves are also known to play with each other, esp. chasing games. They are both intelligent and playful animals who genuinely enjoy each other's company. They also understand many of the other's vocalizations."


Kinda late Halloween work. I just found that fact in tumblr and it was too interesting for me to resist. Who could guess - wolves and ravens?

Gajeel is werewolf. When trying to picture his wolf form, think about Jon Snow's Ghost from "A Song Of Ice And Fire" (or "Game Of Thrones"), just black instead of white.

Levy is shapeshifter. She was born with that ability as curse because of something her father did long time ago. She had always thought bad of it and other children had stayed away from her because of that. Once free in the woods, she found it isn't that bad.

Word count: 1,648


"Stop following me around, you stupid bird!"

"The last time it was me who saved you from that big pack, mister lone wolf." Her laugh was small and elegant. "Or, if you don't recall, you can cheek the wound on your back that is currently healing."

Growing in frustration, Gajeel kicked one rock on his path. He would change in his wolf form and run away… but after all she could find him. She was always able to find him, the twice goddamned noisy bird. When he could run, she could fly even faster, without having to avoid all trees and such. So running away wasn't an option.

"Why are you following me, anyway?" He peeked at her with the corner of his eyes, small bluish-black spot at his right. "It's not like I can lead you anywhere safe, if that's what you're hoping for."

She laughed again, her small hand covering her mouth. Her skin was darker than his own, dark, rich caramel, her eyes two large orbs of molten gold, framed with thick lashes. Freckles covered her cheeks, nose and shoulders. In contrast, her hair was falling in waves like waterfall down her back, waterfall in the color of the clear skin. The clothes she wore were black as night, tunic – which seemed to look covered or made of feathers – and skin-tight leggings, along with pair of black boots. Her steps were small yet confident, easily falling in pace with his long strides.

"Safety? Do you think that's what I want?" Her giggle was strangely pleasant sound. He imagined it would sound like croak, but it's nice, like bell rings. "I can fly as high as I want, I can cross countries for less than three days… I'm safe enough by myself."

"Then what do you want, Half-pint?" He stopped right on his place and turned around, arms folded across his chest. She stopped in her tracks and craned her slender neck to look up at him. "I can't give you much things."

"Company" the bluenette said and smiled. Her smile was soft and gentle, fluffy pink lips curved in the edges, her large eyes shining with unknown for him but so attractive light. "I'm lonely, you too. We could help each other, defend each other. Why not?"

It was hope in her eyes, hope that he couldn't deny. Fuck the consequences… Fuck everything.

"No matter what I say, you won't go, right?"

"Do I look like someone who would give up?" she asked, her smile changing in daring smirk. "You have to stand me, mister wolf."


"Be care- Ouch!"

"Stop fucking squirmin' and then I will be!"

They sat together at the shore of a river, the water splashing softly at the rocky ground. The wind was blowing slightly. Their camp was quickly set on, completely mess, the flame hardly burning, their packs thrown on the ground. Fresh meat was placed on the right side of the campfire, bloody and ready to be cooked, two skins full of water on the left. Her night black, leather-covered tunic was thrown like a rag on the ground, the fabric torn at the back. Healing supplies lied around them, herbs and oils and bandages and a wineskin and strange things he couldn't even name, some mushy thing and a little wooden bowl of water.

"I'll stop squirming if you try to be more gentle, you big lug!" When he purposely pressed the wet cloth rougher to her sensitive skin, she hisses. "Oh, shit, that's hurts!"

"Be still and it wouldn't" Gajeel barked back, yet the corners of his mouth lifted when he heard her cursing. It's strange coming from someone like her, someone who looks so sweet and nice, yet it somehow suited her. "Noisy bird."

He could feel her smiling despite her pain, but her small hands are fisted and clutching the fabric of her cloak so tight her knuckles seems white. Knowing he was the reason of that – or at least in the moment – Gajeel tried to lessen her pain and gently – as gently as he could, damn him – wiped the blood away. Her back was facing him, caramel skin bare to his eyes, save for the few crimson droplets. He frowned and cleaned away the last traces of blood, now eyeing the big wound.

"You shouldn't did that, you know. Jumping in front of me, I mean" he muttered, his eyes unable to leave the awful gash. "I could have handled everything by myself."

She huffed at his words and he could see her puffing her cheeks. The black fabric of her undershirt still clung to her waist and neck, stuck to her like second skin. She refused to take it off completely when he told her to, simply because there was "no way in the fucking world" he could see her naked. So she stood still in the torn black sleeveless – and now backless – shirt, too stubborn to give up. Like he couldn't see the sides of her breasts. Still, she didn't give up, the stupid stubborn bird.

But if he had to choose a word to describe Levy McGarden, then it was stubborn.

"We're partners, Redfox" her voice hitched when he pressed the wine-dabbed cloth to the wound and she whimpered softly, yet no tears fell from her eyes. "I saw danger and did what my instincts told me." She turned her head to the side, peaking at his over her shoulder. Her eyes were watering, her lower lip trembled and her face was pale with pain, but she smiled at him – small and content smile. "I did it because I wanted to protect you. And I'll have none of your words."

He started at her for few seconds, observing her. She was... Stupid stubborn little bird and her stupid brain. Finally, he nodded and cleaned the wound with the wine. The smell lingered on her skin and he wondered if he would taste it… Nah. She would probably slap him for it, and call him pervert.

Done with cleaning, Gajeel took the bowl with the mushy thing. It smelled of spices and forest. At first, by the look of it, he guessed it would stink like horse's shit, but it was good. Slowly, his fingers spread the mush over the wound. He tried to be gentle – he really tried – but he was werewolf, for crying out loud. He wasn't made for being gentle. He was made for fight and beating shit out of someone.

But with Levy, he always tried to be gentle. No matter what she said and how confident she acted, she was a little bird – his little bird – who needed protection from her loneliness. Grew alone, without any friends because of her curse, the girl had no one. Well, that until meeting him. She claimed she didn't need his protection, yet sometimes, at night, she curled against him, her slender legs tangled with his and her heart falling in the same beat as his.

Finally, he covered the gash with pieced cotton and took the bandage in his hands. She rolled the black shirt off her skin until her stomach was bare and helped him wrap the fresh white cloth around her slim lower torso. A tired sigh fell from her lips and she finally let her head fall back, resting against his chest.

"You did good work with that" Levy muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I learned from the best" Gajeel answered her, placing his hands on her waist to support her. "Anyway, would you change?"

Her eyes opened again and the black-haired wolf had to hold his laugh. The bluenette jumped from his embrace, holding the fabric of her shirt close to her chest, and then ran to her bag. He heard her shouting 'turn around!' and chuckled, shaking his head. After she threw a rock at him – the rock his leg, but it still hit him – he turned, muttering for stupid ravens and shyness.


"Hmm… this one?"

"Long story, Lev."

"You say that every time." The bluenette pouted slightly, making him focus on her sweet swollen lips. She was trying to make him tell her the stories behind his multiple scars, he knew, but he didn't tell her. "Just tell me, goddammit!"

They lied together on the ground, few layers of fur the only thing keeping their bodies away from the rare grass under them. Legs tangled, skin covered with cooling sweat, hair complete mess, breath heavy and ragged. Gajeel loved many things about Levy, but now, seeing how she literally shone under the moon's light, he was sure she was the woman for him. She was perfect, from each lock of her cerulean hair to every tiny dark freckle on her skin.

"Maybe someday" he murmured, unable to take his eyes of her pretty face. "But not now, you noisy bird."

She grinned, but her grin was soft, her soft pink lips glistering when she moistened them with her tongue. She had pooped herself on her elbow so she could face him, her other arm resting on her chest and hiding her beautiful perky breast from his eyes. Bloody cocktease, she was, yet he couldn't have her in any other way.

"Oh? Is that the way you talk to your beloved one, big lug?" Yet the bluenette giggled when he reached for her and pulled her closer to him, her small chest flushing against his. "If I didn't know you better, Mister Redfox, I would think you're trying to play with me."

"But of course, Miss McGarden… Who I am to play with such proper lady like you?"

They both laughed at that, his barking and her sweet bells.