AN: I am so sorry for the lack of update. School started back and I was slammed, but hopefully I can start doing weekly updates!
xXxAngel-With-A-ShotgunxXx: I'm so glad you enjoyed the last chapter! I am also glad that you don't know where I'm headed with this. You were getting scary accurate with your predictions! Concerning the eyes watching Pony…well, let's just say they may not be werewolf eyes. I also agree that Pony being the only male in the pack would be interesting, but alas, that won't work for this particular tale. It is definitely something someone should explore, though. Yes, Pony's werewolf status would tend to make the system null and void, but we shall see what is done about that. Pony is definitely about to be going through some major emotional changes due to his newfound ability. Also, remember that the concept of these werewolves are not exactly Twilight-verse. It's just inspired by Twilight-verse wolves. There will still be some surprising changes, I think.
April: Yes, the pesky social workers always get in the way. Pity. And the transfer back to human is definitely #1 on Pony's list of priorities at the moment.
XxlillyWinstonxX: I'm working on it ;)
Chapter 4
Ponyboy had no fucking clue what to do.
It had been well over a week, maybe even two, and nothing had changed. Not a damn thing.
Pony sighed, his furry chest rising heavily, as he flopped on the forest floor.
He really didn't even know where was, having paid no mind to the land around him when he ran, but he figured he was in the country. Windrixville, maybe. Nowhere near Tulsa would have woods this big for him to roam. And to think, this all started with a spoon.
A spoon.
Ponyboy had walked home from school, something Darry would have flipped his lid about if he'd known, but Pony really couldn't bring it in himself to care. He was feeling awful, and the fresh air was soothing his aching mind and cooling his scorching skin. He didn't feel like being cooped up in Two-Bit's hunk of rust.
Glory, but he felt bad. Maybe, it was time to tell Darry and Soda about it. He wasn't getting better like he thought he would, and honestly, he couldn't take much more. He felt like he was dying.
He would tell them. He decided as he walked up the familiar front porch steps and made his way into his house. It was quiet, and Pony frowned. Darry should have been there. He had specifically told Pony to be home at this time because he would be there to supervise Pony's homework. Pony had hauled ass from school to be here on time and Darry wasn't even here?
Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. Pony started shaking and his skin may as well have been a flame.
He stormed into the kitchen, looking for the note he would inevitably find with some excuse as to why he had to be there and Darry didn't. He didn't find one, though, and Pony paused. That was surprising. Maybe Darry was just running a bit late. Pony was a few minutes early now that he thought about it. He was getting angry over nothing.
Just like that, Pony's anger seeped away. His skin cooled and the tremors stopped. Pony breathed a sigh of relief as he slumped into the nearest chair. That was the worst spell he'd had yet. Pony sighed a again and rubbed his face. What on earth was wrong with him? Why couldn't he get a grip?
Pony stood up to get a glass of water, thinking it would help cool him off even more, when he slipped.
He didn't fall per se, but he skidded slightly on something hard and round on the floor. Pony braced himself on the kitchen sink and looked down.
There, on the stained and cracked linoleum floor, was a spoon. It was one of their spoons, well used and dated, and it was on the floor. Why was it on the floor? Who drops a spoon and just leaves it on the floor? How do you not know you've dropped a spoon?
Pony gripped the sink as he stared at the spoon, silver dulled with use, and he blinked.
Suddenly, the tremors erupted through his spine, rattling his bones and shaking his core. Pony felt shock course through him, but it was immediately followed by an unbearable heat that licked its way over the surface of his skin, like flames burning to his bones.
Ponyboy barely had time to think and the pain erupted and the heat hit its peak. He was going to die. He fell to the floor, a scream caught in his throat as he jerked and writhed. He was actually going to die.
Pony felt his body begin to give into the heat and the pain, something snapped. It was as if a great pressure that had been building gave way, an explosion of tension. Pony's breath rushed out, encasing that silent scream, only it was no longer a scream. It was howl.
His bones cracked and his skin cooled. The tremors stopped and Pony had to blink against sudden, blinding light. His heart was racing, but he was alive. He felt it. He was alive.
His body no longer felt confining. That unbearable pressure, that he was now certain had been building for weeks, was finally released. He was free.
That feeling only lasted for a moment, though, as Pony's senses came back to him. The light dimmed and he was able to see where he was. He was still on the floor, but something was different. Something wasn't right. He looked down.
His vision kept going in and out of focus, but he finally was able to see the kitchen floor clearly. His head spun slightly. What was that fabric ripped to shreds on the floor? Had that been there before?
Pony lifted his head slowly, as to not have it spin again, but he paused. His head felt big. He rolled his eyes upwards, as if he was going to try and look at it, but he huffed when he realized he obviously couldn't see it. He decided to walk the short distance to the bathroom and look in the mirror. Pony lifted himself slowly off the floor, only to fall back down clumsily. His feet felt heavy, and his hands weren't working.
Pony looked down at his traitorous limbs and paused. He blinked. Then he panicked.
What the fuck?!
He had paws! He had fucking paws! Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.
Pony scrambled to his feet, as if to run away from the furry legs, but the scrambled right with him and Pony wanted to cry. He jerked to the side, knocking over the table and into the cabinets. He thought he heard glass break, but he wasn't certain.
He tried to back away from the table, but he barely took a step before he hit the fridge. Glory, did he fit in the kitchen?
Pony tried to calm himself, lest he break another thing, but it was extremely difficult. He closed his eyes, and puffed breath through his nose. It came out as wet huffs, but Pony tried to ignore it. He needed to focus and get to the bathroom.
Pony opened his eyes and refrained from looking down. He walked slowly toward the bathroom, and tried his best not to notice that he brushed against both sides of the wall when he walked through. He made it to the bathroom door and stuck his head carefully in the door.
The lights in the bathroom were a bit brighter than in the kitchen, so Pony's eyes took another minute to adjust. He blinked and then he stared.
Staring back at him, with cola colored fur and hazy green eyes, was a wolf. A monstrous wolf. It's head was as big as the mirror itself, and its shoulders wouldn't even fit through the door facing. The wolf nearly brushed the ceiling, its head was so high. Pony turned his head slightly, and jumped when the wolf did the same, a low whine escaping his throat.
This was not happening. This was some sort of dream, a nightmare. He would wake up at any moment, Soda's arms around him and the door banging open signaling the arrival of the gang. Yeah, this was a dream.
Pony plopped down on his haunches and waited to wake up. Only, he didn't. He shook his head slowly in disbelief. No way. No fucking way.
Just then, Pony's ears perked. A familiar noise stood out around the others he found he could hear. Kids playing in the lot. Mrs. Vernon, the nest door neighbor, and her afternoon television watching. The light that buzzed softly in the kitchen. And Darry's truck rumbling down the street.
No, no, no, no. Darry can't see this, no way. Pony stood up sharply, his back hitting the wall and leaving a dent. He scrambled into the living room, knocking over Darry's chair and the table. He put his front paws on the couch and looked out the window. Darry was pulling into the drive way, his truck leaving a trail of dust in its wake.
Pony scrambled backwards, ripping the couch and breaking a leg off the table. He turned, a saw the back door. He turned and darted, fast as the wind, and broke through the door. He galloped, breathing fast and hard, as far as he could. As far away from the house as could get. As far away from Tulsa as he could get.
That was at least two weeks ago and Pony was still as lost as he was that first day. The edges of depression began to fill his mind as he came to the conclusion that he may never see his brothers again. Large tears the size of baseballs leaked from the corner of his eye and hit the forest floor.
He was so lonely. He had had no human contact in weeks and it was starting to wear on him. He wanted to hear a voice other than his own consciousness.
The only solace he found was in sleep. At least then he could dream. He could dream that he was home, safe, with his brothers and the gang. He could be doing homework while Soda, Steve, and Two-Bit played a rowdy game of cards. Darry would be reading the paper as Johnny and Dally walked in, Dallas boldly claiming he needed to hunt some action. Darry would roll his eyes when Pony offered to go with him, but he would let him. Just this once.
Pony drifted as he thought about his family, the pleasant memories taking the edge off like a cigarette. Glory, but he wished he could smoke a cigarette!
As Pony drifted, his body lax and relenting, three things happened.
First, the forest went silent. The birds stopped chirping and the crickets stopped singing. Pony noticed and lifted his head, ears alert and nose twitching. Something wasn't right.
Second, the silence was startlingly disrupted by what sounded like a herd of elephants trampling through the woods. Branches cracked and leaves flew. Pony stood on his haunches, instinct taking over as he growled and protected his flank.
Third, a black mass darted right in front of Pony and knocked into the tree in front of him. The mass writhed, disoriented by the hit probably, as it snarled and whimpered. Pony was confused, but didn't let his guard down. From what he could tell, this thing was close to his size.
Suddenly, the mass stopped moving. It laid there, breathing heavily and whining. Pony circled around it, sure that it hadn't noticed him just yet. It was awfully still.
Pony didn't know what to do. Should he investigate it more? Wait until it ran off? So far, he was hidden in the shadows of the sunset and the trees. He was safe. Maybe he should just leave…
Unfortunately, Pony never got the chance to decide. Suddenly, the mass sprung up and darted at Pony, its large body slamming into his and catching him off guard. He hit the ground, the decidedly furry creature on top of him and his breath came out in a whoosh.
They rolled down the short incline, bodies entangling and thrashing. Pony had a bit of advantage on this creature, seeing as how he was bigger, but the other was fast. Pony snarled as it slipped just out of reach when he tried to get his teeth around its neck. He huffed as the creature skidded back a bit, realizing there was no way it could win, even with the speed and surprise advantage.
Pony took this time to look at the creature, speculating if it would attack again, and also for plain curiosity. Pony hadn't seen an animal in these woods that could match him and he was intrigued.
The creature's head was hung, almost in submission, but Pony wasn't fooled. He knew this thing was a tricky bastard.
Pony ducked his head to look at the creature's face. The creature breathed heavy and quick. Pony growled low, a warning and an invitation all in one.
Slowly, the creature raised his head and Pony felt surprise course through him.
He was looking at a very large, very dark, wolf. Pony blinked as the wolf's eyes filled with surprise as it appraised him. Obviously, he was not what the creature had expected, either.
The eyes were striking blue, deep and rich. Those eyes. Pony knew those eyes.
"Bitchnuts."
Pony shook his head violently. He just heard a voice. A familiar voice, that wasn't his, but was in his head.
Bitchnuts, indeed.
XXXXXXXXX
"Darry!", Dallas Winston's voice boomed through the Curtis house. Soda and Steve paused their half-hearted card game and Darry looked away from where had been absentmindedly watching television. It was a sad imitation of what their nights usually consisted of, but with Pony missing, there was no point in acknowledging it.
"Yeah?", Darry asked. Dally plopped himself down on the couch. He lit up a cigarette and Darry didn't have the energy to tell him to take it outside.
"I got some news that might interest you," he said through the smoke. The sound a chair scraping in the kitchen distracted them as Soda came darting in.
"Is it about Ponyboy? Dammit Dally, what do you know?," Soda demanded as Steve put a hand on his arm in warning. Dallas looked at him sharply and Darry almost intervened.
"If you would fucking listen, dip shit, then you would hear what I'm trying to fucking say," Dally shot out as he puffed his cigarette more.
"It ain't really about the kid, glory I wish it were, but it is interesting", Dallas said, cooling down at the mention of Ponyboy. He knew they missed the kid something awful, so he would forgive them for the outburst. Just this once.
"Jesus Dal, if we wanted some crock we'd go and find Two-Bit," Steve snarked and Dallas shot up form his chair. He'd had enough.
"It ain't crock, you fucker, it's fucking news, alright?," Dallas yelled as he took a step towards Steve. Darry finally stood between them.
"You two, shut your traps. Dally, you tell me what in the hell is going on," Darry demanded. Dallas gritted his teeth before he answered.
"Someone else went missing, same set up as Pony. Heard it at Buck's this morning," Dallas said tensely, eyes on Darry and refusing to look anywhere else.
"When? Where?," Soda asked, excited to have something, even as little as this, to go off of.
"Last night at The Dingo. Guy was there, walked outside, said he didn't feel good. His buddies heard a scuffle a few minutes later, but when they went to help, he was gone. Vanished. They haven't seen him since." Dally sat back down as he let the others in the room process what he had just said. He took that time to light another cancer stick.
"Wait, who was it?"
"Huh?"
"The guy who went missing. Who was it?"
Dallas grinned grimly, a look in his eye that they had never seen before. It bordered on fear.
"Yeah. I guess I left out the interesting part," he said with a grim chuckle. His next words were framed in a cloud of cigarette smoke. "It was Curly Shepard."