Moonlit

3: Wild Magic

A layer of frost blanketed over the dying forest foliage. The air thick with the scent of fallen leaves, woven paths through thickets of damp, frost glittered trees were layered with decaying oranges, reds, and yellows. The moon, full and radiant, filtered through the overhang of gnarled branches that reached out like skeleton fingers. A bone shattering chill seeped along the winds preventing most from venturing outside the warmth of their abodes.

In the distance hoots from lurking owls could be heard, in their infinite wisdom a savagery dwells as they feast on chill slowed prey. Foliage rustled as smaller animals scampered about, some in a hectic flee while others in pursuit. Callum lounged on the cliff edge and watched the twinkling orange haze that shrouded Sunshine. Through the eyes of the wolf, or perhaps the distance between himself and the suffocation of the town, the town looked beautiful. In a haunted sort of way. The chattering of the residents couldn't be heard, but he knew they walked about, walked along their paths, waved, and smiled as if a ritual within itself. The drowsy town was a far cry from the twenty-four-hour excitement offered by Denver.

Soft crunches of frosted leaves filtered through Callum's ears. They twitched forward and back as he homed in on the sound. It was too slow to being a critter scurrying for safety, too belligerent to be a predator lurking about, but somehow delicate enough that he couldn't pinpoint their exact location. He lifted his snout high in the air, his nostrils flared as he sniffed, a sweet aroma of lotus blooms mingled alluringly with the autumn decay. He knew that smell, his eyes closed, as he deeply inhaled the lingering sweetness. It was his warlock.

Wait, what?

Callum shook the intrusive thought from his mind. He had already planned for this to be his last moon in Sunshine, in a couple days, after he'd gotten some rest, he could leave Sunshine and the bewitching warlock behind. He'd leave Denver and all the fun times he'd had there behind and move onto the next adventure. That was his life, no connections, no responsibilities, and certainly no commitments. Then why as he resolved himself in leaving this area and the bizarre swirl of emotions it provoked behind, had his body begun moving on its own? His keen sense of smell worked on its own as he followed the sweet lotus scent. He drooped low into the underbrush of scraggly shrubs; his striking golden eyes scanned the area of any additional threats as he locked onto his target.

Turn around. Walk away.

The human instincts within Callum tried to play the role of voice of reason. They tried to urge his wolf form to let bygones be bygones. To walk away from this warlock, from Noah. But even as Callum argued with himself, a fruitless task, he could hear Noah's soft laughs echo in his ears and the annoyance that it had been the red headed jackass to provoke such a sound. Even with open eyes, he could see the twist of genuine concern that Noah had shown towards him. Going as far as to give a perfect stranger ointment. Of course, being a werewolf meant that his wound healed within the hour without any medical attention. But apparently that knowledge hadn't stopped Callum from slathering on the pale-yellow gel like ointment that smelt somehow smelt like a rainy spring meadow.

He wouldn't walk away. Instead, he crawled under a dying shrub and observed the warlock.

Noah, dressed in black, glided through the forest, as if he were a reaper on a leisurely stroll. Chilled breaths filled the air surrounding him, but as the vibrations of his thundering heart reached Callum's ears, he recognized this calmness to be a façade. Electricity sparked around the wintery warlock, as if he'd been a conduit pulling in the charges from the atmosphere. With thickly furred paws, Callum shadowed Noah, his massive form moved as nimbly as the smallest of field mice. He hadn't noticed this unease within Noah earlier in the coffee shop, but maybe he had been too focused on his own commotion to be alerted. What would he have done even if he had noticed though? Go up to him and say something like 'hey, you seem a little on edge how about a good snuggle. Werewolves are the best for snuggles.'