Shadow Wolf22: I don't own Darkstalkers, Capcom does, so please don't sue
me.
Demona: Even if you did sue him you wouldn't get anything, because he
pretty broke.
Donovan: I would use the words penny less myself, Mona.
D&D: * both chuckle *
Shadow Wolf22: ha-freaken-ha, lets just get on with the fic ok.
The pack divided what was left of Ricky Loben; the pack leader had made the kill and taken the soft viscera as her share, all others had divided the meat as status in the pack allowed. The newest pack members had been left to clear what were meager pickings at best, all except the black and white male, which had been a member of the pack for less than two months. He had only been with them for six nights in his true werewolf form, but the pack leader openly shared her share with him, which he always declined, but there was no doubt that she would choose him as her mate and that infuriated the other males. To them this outsider could not measure up to being the pack leader's mate, and maybe pack leader himself some day. That had been why they forced the pack leader to keep the bastard from their lair. They had used her paranoia, thinking of a thousand things that could be wrong with him. Thus he was nowhere in sight and soon they would arrange a hunting accident that would take care of it permanently.
Talbain ran all out, dashing from roof to roof with inhuman speed and agility. He was on his own hunt, wolf and man both focused on the same goal, finding the pack that stalked the city streets. The night air was chilled, but Talbain did not notice, his thick coat could literally freeze and the werewolf would have thought of it as a slight chill. However the fantastic coat of fur was not the werewolf's greatest gift, which was the nose. The wolf's sense of smell was extraordinary; the sweet/sour smell of humans was fresh on the wind, as well as the smells that accompany humanity. Car exhausts, smoke, the smell of grease and fried meat, where all stitches in the quilt of smells, that were carried on the cold night air. Talbain however was interested in only one smell, the faint aroma that roused his blood to burn. The smell of werewolf.
The pack leader watched contently as the shadow like figure move below her, she loved watching him, especially when he was unaware. She had followed him, oblivious to the warnings of the pack's males.
They are jealous fools she thought. They have to be, he is magnificent, the most beautiful of our kind I have ever seen, her thoughts continued. She had wanted him as her mate ever since he had joined the pack. He was the normal seven feet, as a werewolf, his fur was a midnight black except for his muzzle, hands, feet, and guard hairs that were snow white. He was muscular, but not to the degree of the hulking monsters that she detested among their kind, his muscle was lean like as runner or swimmer. Which she loved! He was a fantastic hunter, though she found his hatred of human sport a bit dismaying.
However as a leader that little eccentric behavior could be easily dismissed, unless the males had been right in one of their accusations and he was a human lover. She dismissed that possibility from her mind; there were a thousand reasons why werewolves refused to hunt humans. The royal werewolves themselves had dismissed it as uncleanness only fit for barbarians, but she didn't mind being a barbarian.
Felicia woke, a nightmare startling her from her slumber. She couldn't remember what it had been about, but she didn't care as long as Talbain was around. Her emerald green eyes scanned the room, searching for the familiar form, but was disappointed when he was no were to be seen.
No problem, he probably when out, she thought, the haze that came with sleep still thick in her mind, but as she got up the haze disappeared and she peered out the window only to see what she had expected, a full moon. Something is wrong, Jon would never risk going into the city, she thought, as her face became a mask of worry.
Felicia inhaled deeply for a moment until she had the scent, the scent of her friend, her love Jon Talbain. She silently walked to the balcony, then as if a flash a part of her dream came back. It wasn't pleasant, Talbain stood on the balcony, a werewolf, and he smiled a lycanthropic grin, then his face became serious and said "Good-bye Felicia I'll be back for you, trust me!" but she knew he wouldn't return.
Felicia fell to the ground, tears in her eyes at the sudden remembrance of her nightmare. It was just a dream she pleaded with herself, and got to her feet. She looked out at the shimmering city from her balcony and thus began her search for Jon Talbain.
The pack divided what was left of Ricky Loben; the pack leader had made the kill and taken the soft viscera as her share, all others had divided the meat as status in the pack allowed. The newest pack members had been left to clear what were meager pickings at best, all except the black and white male, which had been a member of the pack for less than two months. He had only been with them for six nights in his true werewolf form, but the pack leader openly shared her share with him, which he always declined, but there was no doubt that she would choose him as her mate and that infuriated the other males. To them this outsider could not measure up to being the pack leader's mate, and maybe pack leader himself some day. That had been why they forced the pack leader to keep the bastard from their lair. They had used her paranoia, thinking of a thousand things that could be wrong with him. Thus he was nowhere in sight and soon they would arrange a hunting accident that would take care of it permanently.
Talbain ran all out, dashing from roof to roof with inhuman speed and agility. He was on his own hunt, wolf and man both focused on the same goal, finding the pack that stalked the city streets. The night air was chilled, but Talbain did not notice, his thick coat could literally freeze and the werewolf would have thought of it as a slight chill. However the fantastic coat of fur was not the werewolf's greatest gift, which was the nose. The wolf's sense of smell was extraordinary; the sweet/sour smell of humans was fresh on the wind, as well as the smells that accompany humanity. Car exhausts, smoke, the smell of grease and fried meat, where all stitches in the quilt of smells, that were carried on the cold night air. Talbain however was interested in only one smell, the faint aroma that roused his blood to burn. The smell of werewolf.
The pack leader watched contently as the shadow like figure move below her, she loved watching him, especially when he was unaware. She had followed him, oblivious to the warnings of the pack's males.
They are jealous fools she thought. They have to be, he is magnificent, the most beautiful of our kind I have ever seen, her thoughts continued. She had wanted him as her mate ever since he had joined the pack. He was the normal seven feet, as a werewolf, his fur was a midnight black except for his muzzle, hands, feet, and guard hairs that were snow white. He was muscular, but not to the degree of the hulking monsters that she detested among their kind, his muscle was lean like as runner or swimmer. Which she loved! He was a fantastic hunter, though she found his hatred of human sport a bit dismaying.
However as a leader that little eccentric behavior could be easily dismissed, unless the males had been right in one of their accusations and he was a human lover. She dismissed that possibility from her mind; there were a thousand reasons why werewolves refused to hunt humans. The royal werewolves themselves had dismissed it as uncleanness only fit for barbarians, but she didn't mind being a barbarian.
Felicia woke, a nightmare startling her from her slumber. She couldn't remember what it had been about, but she didn't care as long as Talbain was around. Her emerald green eyes scanned the room, searching for the familiar form, but was disappointed when he was no were to be seen.
No problem, he probably when out, she thought, the haze that came with sleep still thick in her mind, but as she got up the haze disappeared and she peered out the window only to see what she had expected, a full moon. Something is wrong, Jon would never risk going into the city, she thought, as her face became a mask of worry.
Felicia inhaled deeply for a moment until she had the scent, the scent of her friend, her love Jon Talbain. She silently walked to the balcony, then as if a flash a part of her dream came back. It wasn't pleasant, Talbain stood on the balcony, a werewolf, and he smiled a lycanthropic grin, then his face became serious and said "Good-bye Felicia I'll be back for you, trust me!" but she knew he wouldn't return.
Felicia fell to the ground, tears in her eyes at the sudden remembrance of her nightmare. It was just a dream she pleaded with herself, and got to her feet. She looked out at the shimmering city from her balcony and thus began her search for Jon Talbain.