Author's Note:
*Incest. Werewolves. Magic.*
Whilst not 100% required, you'll probably enjoy this one more if you've read "My Sister's a Vampire!".
Thanks to *AverageRed* for asking for this one.
---
He knew he'd completely screwed this one up. He looked around frantically in the rain, finding he could barely see a foot in front of his face. Blake very nearly turned around and went back inside, giving up that he couldn't find her, when he fell into one of her paw prints.
Two days out from the moon doing it's thing, and doing a bigger one than usual, and he'd caused his sister to shift into a wolf and... Blake had no idea what any of it meant. He was still dealing with the fact that werewolves actually existed. And vampires. And witches.
His entire world was reeling, but all he really knew was... He loved his sister. He loved her in ways he knew he wasn't supposed to, and he knew she loved him back. She just wanted him to admit what he felt, and instead he'd gone and screwed things up so badly that she'd completely disappeared.
He was a doctor, not a tracker or a hunter. If a wolf wants to disappear... You won't know where it is until it's breathing down your neck.
All the same, Blake looked at the positioning of the paw and stumbled along, trying to find where the next had torn into the soft mud. The wind and rain cut through his clothes like they weren't there, freezing and burning him. His teeth chattered as he tried to find her.
As he went to take his next step, every hair on his neck stood on end and Blake found himself freezing up.
A wolf's howl ripped right through the storm, echoing as if it was coming from every direction. So close the wolf might well have been right behind him. Glancing around Blake could see nothing but mud and rain. Not even the nearby trees.
This had been a bad idea, and turning around was worse. He couldn't work out where the hut even was.
Right as he was beginning to think of himself as an idiot that was going to get himself killed by something as exciting as boring pneumonia, every sense seemed to explode at once.
The sounds of the storm jumped up at least ten decibels, but it didn't hurt his ears. It blew out his thoughts, and made it impossible to tell where he was, let alone all the damn things he was hearing, but it wasn't painful. Just disorienting.
He tried to breathe through it, but that just informed him that his sense of taste had gone crazy as well. He could taste the freshness of the air, and the staleness of the air from the cabin nearby. Taste the plants all around, each individual taste - unmixed, standing alone.
Blake could taste the soil, the snails and worms and bugs he didn't know the names of. All of them filled his mouth all at once, making him wretch and gag at their disgusting mixing of flavours. They weren't exactly steak.
As he wretched, he found himself on hands and knees, and that was another assault of the senses. His hands could feel the individual grains of dirt. Each piece different than its siblings. Half of them weren't even made from the same sediments.
"Well, fuck me sideways with a carrot."
He glared up at the vampire, as Ellie chuckled. She sauntered towards him through the rain, the tiny liquid droplets refusing to adhere to her skin. Dripping off her and leaving her dry. Nature itself offended by her existence.
She knelt down into the mud in front of him, cupping his head in one hand as he glared at her and wondered what the hell he was supposed to do with a vampire.
Ellie scrunched up her nose, "You're so cute when you're mad. I reckon Lily is going to adore you. You aren't pulled to her brother, and you've got at least half of what I've got. You're gonna wreck her day."
"F... Fuck off." Blake managed.
The woman giggled, "Oh, oh so cute. No. I'm not going anywhere Blake... But I'm not your enemy. Not here, not now. Lily took my brother from me. I'm going to tear her entire fucking world down to get him back. And you're going to help."
"Fuck off!" His voice suddenly dropped, ending less with a yell and more with a roar.
Ellie stood up, holding out a hand to him, "That's it! That's the fire. That's exactly what I want to see... And what you need, if you really wanna find Wynne in this storm."
Blake's hands turned to fists and he punched the soil. He arched his back trying to stand, and heard it crack violently. The entire thing bent upwards, outwards, before suddenly crashing down and planting him heavily into the soil.
The vampire tsk'd quietly, "Oh poor thing. You don't even realise it yet, do you? You're changing. Your first change. I... I can ease your path, Blake. Just promise me you'll hate Lily."
"I hate... You." He snarled, his tongue feeling odd as he spoke, like the teeth in his mouth weren't his own.
His back legs kicked out, trembling, and Blake found that his overbearing senses were suddenly dulled. The entire world was blissfully muted, as his chest heaved and shuddered against the mud beneath him.
There was one sense that remained in view, as he found himself slipping into something that felt a lot like an anaesthetic. His sense of smell remained, with one smell beginning to rise above all the others.
They smelled frightened. Not just anxious... Scared and broken. On the verge of depression, and running from the world as much as they could. Everything they knew and hoped was falling apart.
There were no tears, just the smell of a broken soul.
He was momentarily distracted from the scent, as his hips twitched. Something beyond them moving for a second, before curling up in his own emotional mess. He forced his mind back to it, to the thing that he knew he had to find.
To hunt.
---
Blake blinked slowly, looking at the fire crackling away in front of him. Yawning and shuffling a little closer to the heat.
His training kicked in, flicking at his dull brain. He'd... Had some kind of seizure. This looked like memory loss. Something simple, like maybe a temporal lobe seizure. TLE could come out of nowhere, and the cause often remained unknown.
He rubbed at his face, blinking and staring at what he'd just wiped all over himself. His hands weren't their habitual clean. Instead they were covered in the grime of soil, mud and... And something more familiar that he really hoped was not...
"It's rabbit. You hunted freaking rabbit, for your first." A voice scoffed, "Couldn't convince you to go for anything bigger. And well... You're in charge. Apparently."
He looked up slowly, blinking as he saw Wynne looking more pissed than he had ever seen her, poking at the fire with a stick to make it spark and jump. She wasn't wearing any clothes, her hair tumbling down her shoulders, and reminding him of a Renaissance painting.
At least, she would look like one if she didn't look about ready to skin and cook him.
"Rabbit..." Blake said slowly, still trying to work out what was going on.
"Motherfucker!" She swore, looking at him in exasperation, "Took me two days to relearn how to speak without a muzzle. Fuck's sake. Is there anything about being a werewolf that you find hard, Blake? Fuck!"
