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'Of Wolf and Man' is performed by Metallica.
"Huuuuu . . . phoooo . . . huuuu . . . phooo . . ."
In. Out. In. Out. The breath inflated his lungs, sending oxygen rushing into his system where it bonded with the hemoglobin and was transported throughout his body. Chemicals bonded and the miraculous process of life trundled on. A miracle that Changeling felt he knew far better than the most of the world given that he had experienced far more variations of it than others. The simplified system of insects, the gills of aquatic life forms, and so many more. Some that weren't even in the natural bestiary, like the Beast, and then whatever Sweet 16's pheromones had turned him into. Part of him was terrified.
Another part was beyond excited as he stood in the training room, gaze fixed upon his abused and singed dummies. His friends had largely recovered from the injuries inflicted upon them by the Female Furies with the exception of Blackfire. Her arm had been reset but it was still mending and, to the extreme displeasure that she was not at all shy in expressing, she had had to sit out on their last few encounters. The shape shifter's refusal to do anything more demanding than cuddling with his extra-terrestrial lover had only served to aggravate her further, and ultimately that had resulted in his eviction from her bed until further notice.
Drawing in a deep breath, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the very building blocks of life. Like a child playing with Legos that were mixed from several sets, he disassembled his DNA and began to rearrange the strands, mashing together incongruent pieces. Pain surged through his form, worse than any other shape he'd ever taken. It felt like drills stabbing into his teeth as they elongated into fangs and he tilted his head back to release something between a howl and a scream. His skin rippled, alternating between fur, scale, and feathers as each fought for dominance, but none held it. Thick muscle coursed through one of his arms, causing it to bulk up, and horrible talons tore from his fingers before it dwindled back down and a tentacle sprouted in its place. It was soon joined by several others before hooks grew along them and then they twined together to form a wing. The other arm grew spines, like that of a porcupine, before it was armored in armadillo bands and his hand turned warty and waxy. A reptilian tail lashed outward only to metamorphose into a scorpion's tail that arched over his head.
The alterations vanished as he dropped to his knees, sweat beading on his verdant skin as he shuddered and panted to get back his breath. He gulped down air until oxygen flowed freely through his veins once again and then stumbled to his feet. Breathing out a tired sigh over yet another failed attempt, he scratched at the back of his head and bumped into the door, pushing through it into the hallway. His stomach yowled at him and he patted it as he nodded his head, "Yes, yes. We're going to catch ourselves a midnight snack. Now settle before you wake up the others."
Rose was also feeling the aftereffects of the assault by the Furies as she rose before the sun to push herself harder and harder with each morning. Her tenuous control had snapped and as she punished her body for the transgression, she fought to rebuild the barriers that she had erected after her father had first drugged her. Back when he had sought to turn her into another one of his weapons, a tool in his malicious machinations. The concoctions he pumped into her drove her to stab out her own eye in some twisted attempt to prove herself a worthier heir. Since managing to break his hold, with the considerable assistance of the Titans, she had done her best to push the haunting figure with his split mask from her mind. Now she fled from that memory as well as more recent hauntings.
Only to find herself revisiting one.
The tall tree before her was horrendously scarred, gouges once oozing with sap only now starting the arduous process of healing. Branches were splintered off as though they had offered all the resistance of toothpicks against the force that had torn up the trunk. The sundered limbs littered the ground around her, the once green leaves having turned brown and crisp. Near the top of the tree, just before the branches started to grow thin and more flexible than stout, remained the last of the tree's limbs, their leaves still green. Not too long ago, it had been her perch as she hid from a feral shape shifter. Only now as she stared at it did she realize that she'd been tracing the path that she'd fled along during her escape from the creature.
She was hurled from her reverie by a gruesome, wet snap accompanied by the tearing of flesh. Instinctively, she dropped into a crouch, her hands flickering to a pair of thick branches that would sustain a few blows without splintering. A low growl seemed to emanate from the forest about her, the early morning mist doing nothing to put her at ease. The sound coupled with her current position and its accompanying memory set her heart thundering in her chest and she futilely willed it to cease its fervent pounding. Her run had warmed her, protecting her from the morning chill, but now a terrible cold possessed her all over again.
Jamming her eye closed, she struggled to reclaim control over her breathing and run-amuck emotions, pretending it wasn't fear that clasped at her as she crept forward to the bush that the sound of eating had emerged from. Her steps were light and made minimal noise on the dead leaves, but even the smallest of crackles boomed in her ear with the roar of cannon fire. Ahead, the growl swelled into a snarl followed by bodily thrashing, heavy impacts raining upon the ground, hiding her slow approach. Bile climbed in her throat and she swallowed it back down, wincing as it burned down her gullet. The sudden jerky movement, small as it was, ruined her precarious balance and her foot intrinsically moved forward to stabilize her, and snap a dried branch. Eye fixed forward, she dared to hope that her blunder had gone undetected, and, like so many of her wishes, it went unanswered as a massive figure, easily four times her size bounded through the bush.
Flinging herself to the ground, she threw up her arms around her head as massive fangs, painted scarlet clacked shut inches from her face. Warm, moist breath hit her skin, but did nothing to banish the cold dread that welled within her. Smell tremors shook the ground as a pair of paws easily the size of her head impacted the dirt near her head. A part of her, a small piece not entirely overridden by terror, expressed disgust as she cowered before the maw that was some macabre parody of Christmas hues, green fur matted with crimson humours. The heavy scent of iron confirmed her grisly suspicion and the horror that it might be her blood next to paint the fur gripped her. However, the next sound was not a snarl or the shredding of her own flesh, but a quizzical and very comforting voice.
"Rose? What the Hell are you doing out here?"
She slowly lifted the lid of her eye, not entirely remembering when she had clenched it shut, to peer at the green man who loomed over him. Rage quickly replaced anger and she squirmed out from under his stance as she snapped, "Doing my goddamn morning jog, like always, furball."
"If you're calling this morning, silver, you're waking up way too early."
She scooted further back, hugging her knees to her chest as she continued to glare at him and fight the tendrils of fear that still tugged at her. Clad in his Changeling uniform, the shape shifter's natural air of joviality was ruined by the blood smeared across his mouth, which he only seemed to remember with her fixed glare. He wiped at it with his forearm, only spreading it further across his face and onto his arm, which he grumbled at. Hiding his arm behind his back, he tried to smile, which revealed the vibrant red teeth.
Wincing at his mistake, he studied her and sighed before loping over to crash into the forest floor next to her.
"You know, I don't think I ever apologized."
"For what?" she muttered, not meeting his gaze.
"Hunting you," he admitted. He dipped his head to the side and continued, "Almost eating you."
"Thought you were vegan."
"Kind of. Sort of," he protested as her gaze focused on the drying blood and he shrugged, "Okay, not exactly. I was though."
"So I've heard."
"From who? Please don't say a creepy stalker. I always get the creepy stalkers. Okay, that's not actually fair. But I still contend that I attract more creeps than the others."
She scoffed, "Impulse always complained that he'd accidentally eat your tofu whenever he tried to raid your fridge."
"He ever tell you about the time I rigged everything with wasabi?"
"No," she chuckled, "He didn't."
"Yep. Course, the whole thing would've gone over a lot better if Raven hadn't gotten to some of the stuff first. I mean, footloose still chowed down and suffered for it, but I didn't get to witness it. Busy dealing with enchanted fleas."
Turning her head, she regarded him with pursed lips, "You know, sometimes I can't tell if you're stories are true or just another joke."
"Eh. It's more fun – for me – if you don't know."
"Not to mention that you use it as a distraction from the actual conversation. Weren't we talking about your eating habits?"
"Actually, I was apologizing for trying to eat you. But I like your idea. Let's talk about that instead."
Rolling her eye, she socked him in the shoulder as he snickered before jumping to his feet and hauling Rose along with him. He hesitated for a second before he led her to the clearing where he had been lurking, revealing the mangled carcass that the girl didn't recognize as a deer until she saw the antlers. The green man sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck as her eye widened at the carnage and he tried to offer an explanation.
"Few years ago, I came to accept a fact. A lot of animals are carnivores, one way or another. Eating meat, even if you've been that species and it might be considered cannibalism, isn't unnatural."
"But you told Eddie you don't eat meat," she pointed out.
"I said I don't eat 'processed' animals," he corrected sharply, "Slaughter houses, abattoirs, all that disgusting stuff that they do to make the 'best' meat – the torture they inflict upon the animals – that's unnatural. Before humans began their persecution and hunt of wolves, they were the population control for a vast number of species."
"All right, all right. Settle down there, Tarzan. No need to get all anti-human on me," she grumbled.
"Look if I do it this way, as an actual hunt, at least the poor Odocoileus virginianus – who I thank again for being a meal – has a fighting chance. He wasn't born solely so that he could die. There was more to his existence than that," he justified his predation on the woodland creatures.
"So how long have you been . . .?"
"Carnivorous? Hunting? Few years now. I don't exactly broadcast it – you know that if the public caught wind, there'd be some story about me eating Bambi – but I usually hunt about three, four times a week," he explained.
"And lil' Miss Hotpants doesn't get all huffy when you go out for a midnight snack?" Rose queried.
Grinning broadly, he gave a deep chuckle and informed her, "Silver, when I'm done working my magic, it's a testament to a woman's fortitude, even one as feisty as my midnight sun, to be able to stand, much less notice me disappear for a quick jaunt."
"Okay. Ew," she stuck out her tongue, "I so did not need that image in my head."
"Right. Like you haven't imagined what it's like to go a few rounds with KD," he ribbed, folding his arms over his chest.
"What did you say?" she hissed, her eyes narrowing.
"You know what, I really hate eating as a maggot. I better finish my meal before it really starts to go bad," he excused himself from the conversation and dropped to all fours, shifting into the massive shaggy wolf as he did so. Memories of the long snout that snapped at her legs as she balanced at the tree's pinnacle flashed through Rose's mind, and she shuddered at the sight of it, which did not go unnoticed by the Changeling.
"You all right?" he asked, his voice rough, rumbling through her bones.
"I'm fine," she barked even as he slid into the form of a large raptor. Any comical remarks about the scarlet markings resembling lipstick were shattered by the finely toothed maw and dangerous claws. A strange hissing sound emerged from his throat as he circled about her.
"That better?"
"I told you, there wasn't anything wrong."
The aggravation was evident in her voice, but the morphling had not spent a decade and some change with an emotionally repressed half-demon without picking up on certain subtleties. His form flowed into that of a heavy bodied and thick furred bear as he dropped to the ground, sweeping Rose's legs out from under her. She gave a cry as she crashed onto the living cushion and turned upon him angrily, but her pummeling was lost upon the beast's thick hide. Rolling his eyes, he restrained her struggle with a heavy paw.
"Rosie-Posie, this may come as a complete and utter shock to you, but I'm not completely oblivious. Not even you can like getting up this early, my adorable little psychopath," he chided.
"Gar, I swear, if you don't let me go in the next five seconds, I'm going to make you eat your own heart," she menaced, but he took no heed to the threat.
"Look, kiddo, I've been around for a bit. Seen some things. And while me nearly munching on you has gotten you shook up, there's something else bothering you."
"Nothing that concerns you, furball."
He sighed at her obstinacy and let his head drop to the ground, resting in the browned leaves for a moment before giving a snort. Slowly, he began to speak, "When I was a kid, before I'd ever even heard of the Doom Patrol, I ended up the captive of a pair of crooks. Kurt and Stokes. Nasty pieces of work. Real vile sorts. Sadists. They had me steal things for them – jewels, gold bricks. I was a kid, when I wasn't in the cage, I tried playing games. Hid the stuff I stole. They ended up thinking the other was cheating them and killed each other. Leaving me with the bodies."
Rose had ceased her struggles and now stared at the great bear, her brow furrowed.
"They shot each other."
"Oh, don't get me wrong. I know that it wasn't entirely my fault. But if I hadn't taken certain actions, they'd be alive. So don't go thinking you're the only one with blood on your hands. We've all got our sins. Now, spill."
Despite his demand, she was silent and he turned his head to study her before she finally spoke, "You know who my dad is. You know what he's done and what I've done. And I lost it in that fight. Did you see what I did to that chick? I gouged out her eye. Because she wouldn't shut up about my dad. What kind of nutjob does that?"
"You're not a nutjob. I mean, you may have stuck a thumb in that brat's eye, but at least you've never tried to eat your friends. And you weren't even the first," he offered.
"Damn. I'm beginning to think we need a muzzle for you," she smirked, elbowing him in the gut to which he gave a low growl.
"You first."
A heavy paw stretched out to lay claim to the deer carcass, dragging it across the ground and grunting before he snapped at, tearing a sizable chunk of flesh away from it. Rose winced, "So I take it you're not operating under the five second rule anymore?"
"I don't get sick. Not anymore, at least."
"No shit?" she mused, to which he nodded. "That's pretty sweet."
"Fortunate," he muttered between the sounds of snapping bone and tearing muscle, "I absolutely hate needles."
"Pansy," she snorted.
"Pint-sized psycho."
"Tree hugger."
"Hack job."
"Rot crotch."
"Oh, that was just vulgar. I thought I was a 'good boy,'" he said, giving a strange smile that was hampered by his current form.
"And that was low," she grumbled, reaching about with her arm to loop about his thick neck. "Goddammit. Now morph into something smaller so that I can choke you out."
Merely amused by the teenaged girl's attack, the bear gave a rumbling laugh that shook through the trees, banishing the ghosts that had been lurking there.
Glancing at the door for the fourth time since he had entered the kitchen area, Eddie jumped when Blackfire snapped at him.
"If you cast one more kicked-puppy look in that direction again, I will find a temperature at which you cook. Slowly."
"Sorry," he squeaked, eyes darting to the floor. Returning his attention to the pair of omelets he was cooking, he couldn't help but frown at the extra one and sigh, "It's just, you know, it – she's usually back by now. What if something happened to her? What if she's hurt?"
Perched upon a stool at the island and nursing a mug of a vile concoction that looked like tar and smelled worse, which was still a kind description, with her functional arm, Blackfire peered over at the red-skinned boy and wondered, "Does the fact that I want to say 'so what' make me a horrible person?"
"Yes, but for what it's worth, you do possess certain other . . . assets, shall we say, that decidedly make up for it, sweetheart," Gar boomed as he strode into the room, followed by Rose who Eddie immediately perked up at the sight of.
"'Assets' that you shall know by memory alone now. I go to grace your bed with my presence and you have the audacity not to be in it," she seethed.
"Ah, you missed me," he said, flitting over to her to scoop her into a hug, careful with her injured arm.
"Off of me, parasite," she retorted.
"If that's romance, I'm going to disembowel Cupid before I let him get an arrow in me," Rose remarked before glancing to Eddie's meal and arching a brow, "Hungry this morning?"
"Actually, I noticed that you'd been pushing yourself harder than usual. Thought you might like a meal after your run," he gave a weak, hopeful grin.
Rose hesitated, eye flickering over to the couple who were now sharing the stool, Blackfire having claimed her beau's lap as she sipped at her drink, before returning to her friend and giving a small smile and a nod.
"Sure. Sounds good."
We're back! After our considerable sabbatical, we have returned. And with a filler chapter. Our apologies. Still there was character development and we hope that you enjoyed it, along with whatever festivities you celebrated.
I Be Sporks: For what it's worth, Blackfire voted they actually just toss Kitten into the ocean. And 'Granny' refers to Granny Goodness. A member of Darkseid's Elite. None of us actually celebrate Kwanza. Still, somebody reading this might.
Everybody, please hail our return with many reviews! Many!