He can hear it. Its accelerated breathing pounds in his ears, signaling its close proximity.
He ventures closer to the presence, the thing that dares to be in his territory at this time. It is terrible timing for the intruder, whatever it is, for tonight he is at his strongest.
Tonight is the night of the wolf.
He is alone, but that is just perfect. He works better when alone.
It sure is a horrible storm, the rain beating on his back, nearly causing him to collapse. He wonders why it is trying to trespass in this awful weather. The wind rips leaves from their perches on trees and throws them violently into the air, lightning flashing over his head. There is almost a constant roar, almost ruining his concentration. He shakes his head, trying to wave away the storm’s efforts to distract him. His paws crunch the grass beneath him as he treks deeper into the forest. Trees loom before him, casting their dark shadows over his furry form. Danger is in every direction. But he does not hesitate.
He is fearless.
The presence is growing stronger, the wind sending the scent to his nose. It is a sweet fragrance, one he has never smelt before; a curious mix of strawberries, bananas, some flavor he cannot distinguish, and a tiny splash of mint. It is a delight, an intoxicating smell that he will remember forever, even when this “it” is long dead. He has never experienced this aroma around a werewolf before.
This smell is so sweet, he wonders if a human could have actually wandered into their midst. Humans generally have nice smells, although none as delightful as this one.
He feels like something is… bonding him to this smell. A longing suddenly starts to fill him, a desire to edge closer to the source. This pull is unrelenting, and he feels himself falling even harder into the realm of l.ust. He begins to crave this curious smell, and his paws start to move by themselves. He does not need to track it, for something about the scent is guiding him straight towards it. He begins to think that this creature might be a difficult thing to kill.
In fact, killing it might not even be an option, for he fears that if he does, he will lose his sanity.
It already entices him, begs him to come closer. The smell invigorates him even more as he gets closer to his target, weaving a web around him until he will never be able to escape. He is the fly, and it is the spider. A miserable feeling gathers in the pit of his stomach as he realizes that he is helpless.
What sort of trick is this wily creature playing?
The scent is unbelievably strong now, nearly overwhelming him with its beauty. To werewolves, scent is everything, and he experiences pretty aromas every day. Nothing, though, amounts to this lovely emanation that makes his head spin with dizzy delight. He feels like he is getting close.
Suddenly, the scent turns bittersweet, a sharp note corrupting the melody. Fear and terror enters the scent, making the sugary quality go away and polluting the smell he needs so badly. Now, a sinister stench fills the air, and the terror the creature is feeling fills him also.
Somehow, he can tell the emotions it is experiencing through its smell. However, the bad part is that he begins to feel the same emotions it does. The smell now is still intoxicating, but filled with need. It needs him.
Want quickly enters his body. He wants to experience that smell once again, but not the one it was currently emitting. He wants to make it happy, so the taste of fear will disappear from the aroma. He desires that special sweetness with an intensity he never knew he possessed.
His paws start to blur as they zoom through the forest so fast that even he can barely see them move. The longing is coursing through him, intensely corrupting his mind until all he can think of is the scent. He has to have it.
He reaches a small clearing, next to a thin creek that spills into Lake Ray a couple miles away. It is a beautiful little area, with lovely flowers and green bushes, the trees graceful and tall. The aroma is overpowering here. The creature must be in this vicinity.
His eyes search for it, looking for the evil thing that manages to produce such an attractive smell. At first, it is nowhere to be seen. But after he adjusts his eyes a little, he spots a figure in the dirt. It is a tiny thing, a small form covered in the thick mud, only a slender back seen from his angle.
He suspiciously circles the creature, trying to make out its features. It is hard to distinguish, the mud camouflaging it in the dirt. When he travels right in front of it, though, his heart stops beating.
Though not an overly pretty creature, it is still the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.
It is a human girl, with bright green eyes that has a mesmerizing quality to them, pulling at him, never releasing his gaze. Her hair is a ruby red, tumbling to her shoulders, the rain making it wet and shiny. Her body is small, but shapely, the rain melding her tattered dress to her form.
A sudden stab of pain encircles his heart as he realizes what is happening, the beats growing faster. He begins to grow panicked. Is this really happening? Why now? Why, with a human like her?
But nature refuses to listen to his pleas, binding him even closer to the young woman. This could not be true.
A burst of white light comes forth, surrounding his being, then racing to meet the girl. It delves into her skin, soaking her with the white light. She doesn’t notice, her eyes clogged with tears, looking at her toes.
He is affected, however. The realization that he has just done something terribly, horribly wrong shocks him, making his whole body flinch.
Shock, as well as anger and annoyance, races through his body. Nothing good can come of this. Nothing at all.
However, the reluctance fades as he watches her. As it begins to take effect, he feels himself falling into a bottomless pit of endless love. There is no going back. He is ensnared in the tempting spider’s web forever.
Suddenly, another taste of horror explodes in the scent. Hail is beginning to fall, and he can tell that she has been hit. Her eyes, as she looks up, are listless. She stares past him, as if she doesn’t notice he is even there. Painful tears evacuate her, pouring down her form. A small gash on her leg emits dark droplets of blood. He suddenly feels the need to protect her, to guard her. What is he doing, just standing here? He needs to move!
A tiny scream escapes her, ripping into the night as a huge piece of hail comes hurtling towards her. Her eyes snap shut, fear overtaking her. The scent is consumed by terror, terror he has to eliminate if he wants to experience that sweetness again. He jumps immediately, trying as fast as he can to land over her form. To protect her.
He releases a guttural howl as he soars to be her shield.
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