Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Wolf's POV:
Sick
I have even more trouble dragging myself out of bed than usual today, mostly because I was really, really tired. I didn't get so much as a wink of sleep last night. I know, that's "not possible" and I "fell asleep but didn't realise it", but I really didn't fall asleep. I know because I checked the time regularly, and I didn't miss more than half an hour between checks.
I guess one of the reasons I couldn't sleep was because I was still buzzing from my kiss with Scarlet. My mouth tugs into an involuntary smile just thinking about it. I know I shouldn't have done it, given the fact that I have seizures and am not even the same species as her, but that doesn't seem to matter anymore. I've kissed her, and I know that I would probably do it again. Will do it again, if Scarlet wants.
I feel my smile widen, and I finally step out of bed. And immediately collapse onto the floor as pain shoots through my knee. I glare furiously at the joint, cursing it for swelling and turning that worrying shade of purple. Growling with frustration, I pulled myself up on the bed so I was sitting on the mattress, stuck my injured leg in the air and bent the knee. With a pop, the joint slid back into place. I watched as the swelling went down and the bruising faded at an abnormal rate, until it looked as though my knee had never left it's designated spot.
I huffed and stood again, warily testing my legs. When they held, I made my way over to my closet.
That's the other (and maybe even bigger) reason I couldn't sleep. All night my joints were randomly popping out of place for no reason. At some point, I just became way too tired to set them back myself and, after a few minutes of searing pain in the dislocated joint, it just shoved itself back into place without me having to do anything. I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure joints aren't supposed to dislocate and set themselves right all on their own for no reason.
I open the door of the closet and grab a black t-shirt from its hanger. I slip it over my head and casually glance in the mirror built into the closet door. A yelp of surprise escapes my mouth and I jump back, away from the image that was supposedly me. The face staring back at me has my face, my messy brown hair and my olive skin, but those things sticking out from the back of my head most certainly don't belong to me.
Slowly, I reach up and touch them, just to make sure my brain isn't playing tricks on me. Instead of the smooth skin of my ears, my fingers brush against soft fur.
I groan, and the furry triangular ears in my reflection droop. Now my form won't even stay fully human. Whatever this is, I really hope it ends soon.
After I've dressed (and changed my ears back to normal), I head down to the meeting room for breakfast. The police are all already down there, though they haven't touched their plates of buttered toast and fried eggs. Their low, serious voices are a far cry from their usual cheerful morning chatter.
I raise an eyebrow at the morose atmosphere but don't comment, instead opting to grab Grant's plate of eggs and bacon from under his steepled arms. He just keeps speaking as if nothing happened. "This is the third attack so far, and in broad daylight to boot! These things are definitely getting bolder."
"But how are we supposed to deal with a bunch of animals?" Jane exclaims, "It's not like we can just slap a pair of handcuffs on their forelegs and take them to court!"
I lower my eyes and quietly start eating. They're talking about the wolves again. Not that they ever call them wolves. It's always "things", "beasts", "animals". I can't help but wonder what they would do if they found out I was the same species as them. Something tells me it will involve me looking through bars on the wrong side of a cell door.
The door swings open, slamming against the wall with a loud bang, stopping the conversation in its tracks.
The chief strides in, rubbing his hands and eying the food hungrily. "Alright breakfast! I'm starving!"
Grant looks down at the space where his plate used to be. "Hey! Where's my breakfast?"
I shrug. "Well, you weren't eating it."
"You know, I can arrest you for stealing my breakfast." He warns with a malicious grin
I smirk back. "You should have thought of that before I came down here."
"Hold up!" the chief bellows, pointing at me. "Did you just smile?"
I don't reply. I'm just trying to push the pointing finger away from my face. I'm worried it will take my eye out.
"Hey, yeah, he did smile!"
"When was the last time that happened?"
"Er, I don't think it did."
I groan and stand up from the table. Great, now they're talking about me. "I'm going to get ready for school."
"Okay! We'll tell Dr Pine that you smiled!" Grant calls cheerfully after me.
I roll my eyes. I smell an hour of listening to my therapist reading a joke book out loud.
I'm literally a step away from the doorway when I hear the pop and my left thigh goes numb. With a yelp, I lose my balance and fall over, my dislocated leg bending at an awkward angle.
Shouts of surprise and the screech of chair's being pushed along the floor fill my ears, making me wince.
Gritting my teeth and closing my eyes, I push myself back up onto my feet, ignoring the dead weight of my leg as it drags uselessly on the floor.
Someone grabs my shoulder. My nose twitches, picking out their scent from all the others crowding around me. My ears perk as their voice, shrill with fear and worry, rings through the air. I open my eyes, and the colours of the world around me seem sharp and bright.
Someone grabs my chin and tilts my face upward. "His pupils are a weird shape. Look at them!"
"Do you think he's sick?"
"Z, your leg's dislocated, try not to put any weight on it."
A whine escapes my throat in a tone that's not at all human. My muscles seem to be tightening and loosening rapidly and randomly. I can feel my bones shifting around inside me, can hear the subtle clicks and snaps as the find new places to rest.
I feel my heart start to pound, though I can't tell if it's from panic or what's happening inside me. My eyes widen with panic as I recognise all of the subtle feelings I'd nearly forgotten.
Panic grips me and I break free of the huddle of police officers surrounding me, ignoring their cries for me to come back. I run as fast as my injured leg will allow out the front door of the station and hurriedly cut through a nearby alley, scrambling into a shadowy corner. I watch, breathless with fear, as what seems like the entire staff of the police station tear past the alley and out onto the street.
A/N: Well. That just happened.
Something's serious is going on with Wolf, but what? And will he recover?
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