Chapter Text
Ashveil didn't know when the sacrifices started.
Due to his. . . affliction, he had a hard time finding anywhere to settle down. He had to stay far away from human civilization, lest he run rampant during the next full moon. He couldn't stand the thought of hurting anyone when he wasn't in his right mind. So, he had traveled far and wide to find a place he could settle down and make a home out of. He searched high and low for an isolated place, but humanity had the annoying habit of being able to make almost any place their home.
And when he thought he had found the perfect place-
"Mister Ashveil," a raspy voice called from behind him. Slowly, he turned his head to see a an abnormally large monkey slunking over to him. His body was about the size of Ashveil's torso and he had a bit of yellow hair that resembled a banana curling on his head. His eyes were also large, both looking in different directions. He was bundled loosely in a thin blanket that was a little large on him, his only defense against the cold winter wind. The sight itself stirred guilt in his heart, seeing as Mr. N's current condition was Ashveil's fault.
"Don't worry, Mr. N," he comforted the monkey. "I've taken my medicine. I'll be able to keep my mind this time."
Mr. N stared at him for a moment; his eyes drooped in sleepiness. It was a little intimidating despite his small stature, making a cold sweat break out on the back of Ashveil's neck. Somehow, Mr. N was more intimidating as a slumbernana monkey than he had been as a human. Something about his face and attitude reminded him of getting caught red-handed doing something wrong. But he had genuinely done nothing wrong! He really had taken his medicine! He swore he did! After several moments, Mr. N finally gave a tired sigh.
"Just-," he started before his voice seemed to hitch. "Just be sure to take care of yourself today. Full moon or not, you know what else today is."
His words made Ashveil's heart ache. His concern wasn't unfounded, unfortunately. Today was the first full moon of the month, but it was also the day that he hated the most. When he had gone searching for a forest to isolate himself in, he had found one. There hadn't been any humans for hundreds of miles around. It had been absolutely perfect. But if humanity had proven one thing, it was that they knew how to persevere even in the worst of climates. The forest was surrounded by mountains and the river that ran through it was a rough rapid, making it almost impossible to swim through. Ironically enough, the humans hadn't even settled directly in the forest. They instead had set up a village just outside.
The forest was teeming with animals, but it would been too dangerous to settle inside if they didn't know much about the wildlife inside the ring of mountain range. But it had the most amount of animals in the surrounding area. While there were animals outside the forest, they were faster and harder to hunt, as most nomadic animals were. They probably had felt like luck had finally shun down of them when they had found the forest inside of the enclosure of mountains. It stretched on for miles, animals were abundant, and the rapid river that flowed through was - while too dangerous to swim through - surprisingly clean, making for great drinking water. The forest seemed almost magical with how perfect it was. If Ashveil had to guess, he would even go so far as to say that the forest was artificially created. Even his ravenous appetite could be satiated with the sheer amount of game there was to hunt. There was just one treacherous hurdle they needed to overcome when it came to entering the forest:
The mountains themselves.
Ashveil can easily navigate them with his claws, he had scaled the mountains with ease when he had first discovered the forest. However, humans had nails, not claws. They weren't exactly the ideal tools for navigating mountain ranges unless they had tools to help them along. They eventually made their own easier way to get into the forest by digging a tunnel through one of the mountains. That tunnel was the best way to safely enter and exit the forest without needing to scale the mountains. They had even put a gate at both sides of the tunnel to control which people went in and out. But there was also another reason: to keep the beasts from escaping the forest and terrorizing the village.
Or - more directly - to keep Ashveil from terrorizing the village.
In the end, all of this - the gates, the village living in fear, the sacrifices - was his own fault. Ashveil still felt his heart ache when he thought about how all of this happened.
He had transformed during a full moon and had been out to hunt. Thanks to Mr. N's oh, so helpful reminder, he had taken his medication and was able to have his facilities about him instead of roaming like a mindless beast. His worst fear, other than attacking innocent people, was hurting Mr. N. Mr. N. was the last piece of his past he had left after he. . .left the last organization he had been a part of. Monster Hunters, they had called themselves. Rangers.
What a joke, he scoffed in his head. What kind of Ranger gets themselves turned into a monster and also lets the monster they were hunting escape? He was nothing more than a dark stain on the organization's name. Like blood on white clothes, no matter how much you try to bleach them. He has single-handedly dragged his fellow Rangers' names through the mud and muck. The memory still haunted him to this day; how the beast's fangs had sunk into his neck, the cries of his friends as they were ripped apart, the beast's howl of triumph before it ran away, leaving him broken and bloodied. Every full moon after, left him itching painfully in his skin, running from those he had once called comrades.
Safe to say, Ashveil was in a terrible mood tonight.
It didn't take long before he had made it to the river. The water rushed by, the smaller fish within more being swept along rather than actively swimming. It fascinated Ashveil enough that he couldn't help but stare, even as he lowered his head to drink. The water was refreshingly clean and he could feel himself becoming more rejuvenated just by drinking it. The taste was smooth and cool, the water soothing his dry throat. It was heavenly. He was so absorbed in drinking that he didn't even notice when the light of a torch approached him, but the snapping of a twig was all it took to make him look up. His head was still low, close to the water, his shoulders still hunched as he locked eyes with the unfamiliar woman carrying a torch and a basket. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him with open horror, not that he could blame her. If Ashveil had to think about how he must have looked, he could completely understand her fear. He had ended up bigger than the wolf that had bitten him, being roughly the size of a large horse.
He was sure he must have looked intimidating.
Carefully, he leaned a little closer, as if to get a better look. The woman was wearing a very outdated outfit from what he was used to seeing women elsewhere wearing. Despite being in the woods, she was wearing a very old-time dress that looked like something out of an old western show. It was a simple green dress with a white apron around the waist and a white bonnet that covered most of her brown hair. Her green eyes were locked on him, turning her pale face paper white. He could tell she was trying to hide her trembling as she slowly backed away. She looked completely ordinary, all things considered. She was clearly human, but that also begged one question:
How did a human get here?
After all of his efforts to find a place without humans, he just suddenly comes across one while trying to drink in peace? He knew it wasn't her fault, there was no way she could have known there was a giant wolf inside this forest. She had no way of knowing that she would run into him. But the beast in his mind, the one who was absolutely livid at having his home be trespassed upon, didn't see it the same way. No matter how hard he tried, he could still hear the growl that rumbled in his throat, his irritation being stronger than the sound part of his mind. He could even feel his mouth pull back, his large pointed teeth bring put on full display. If the woman was scared before, she looked like she had seen the devil himself now. Without any further preamble, she turned and ran, abandoning the basket to pick up her skirts as she fled. She didn't even bother to scream, her voice probably stuck in her throat.
For a moment, Ashveil considered letting her flee by herself, but he couldn't help but be curious. How had she gotten into the forest? She wasn't wearing anything that could have helped her scale the mountainside. And so, the wolf followed her from a distance, staying close enough to keep her in his sights but far away enough that she probably wouldn't be able to see his black-furred body in the dark of night. Eventually, they finally made it to the mountain range and Ashveil watched as she ran toward a tunnel that had been dug straight through one side of the mountain to the other. The tunnel had two large braziers on each side, the fire inside burning bright. It made him wonder how he had ever missed all of this happening.
Ashveil remained hidden as the woman quickly ran toward the tunnel, pausing just outside of it as she clutched at her chest, panting for air. She had run the entire way back without stopping or falling. Quite the feat, he found himself thinking absently. And it truly was, with how quickly she was running. Ashveil had half expected her to take flight. The woman turned around and looked back toward the treeline, holding up her torch. Ashveil wondered how scrambled her brain needed to be to think that the torch would show anything the braziers' wouldn't. The woman still looked spooked, her eyes widening (had she just locked eyes with him, surely not - he was so well hidden) and turned and raced down the tunnel.
Ashveil huffed a sigh before turning and leaving. She had made it back safely without getting mauled. Anything from here on out wasn't his business. With a trot, he made his way back toward the river. Maybe he could catch some fish or birds to cook later after he had another drink.
He had no idea how this one interaction would go on forever to haunt his mind, another regret added to a pile.
Just thinking about it made Ashveil want to pull his hair out. Who would have thought that such an insignificant encounter would go on to somehow become sacrifices?! It was absurd! Entirely ludicrous! Admittedly, they at least sent hunters after him, at first. They were easy to avoid in human form, but they always seemed to find him whenever he had transformed during a full moon. After he had defeated them time and time again, they had gone from fighting him to trying to "placate" him.
The very first sacrifice had been a young woman, barely out of her teens and coming into her womanhood. She had been as much calmer than the woman from the river. She had looked much different as well; long purple hair and sharp eyes, wearing a long red cloak that brushed the ground with an attached hood over her head. She had looked at him without even the slightest flicker of fear. The calmest (and admittedly first) sacrifice he had ever gotten. She had spoken in a language he didn't understand and he didn't have a synthesia beacon, either. Whatever she had said had gone in one ear and out the other. He had spent most of the night protecting her until just before the sun rose and leading her back to the gate. He had given her a friendly sniff and lick (having her scent would make it easier to find her later - if she ever entered the forest again) before gently nudging her toward the gate. She had seemed puzzled by his behavior, but had listened obediently and headed toward the gate.
As for what happened later that day. . .
Ashveil shuddered.
With a quick shake of his head, he began to disrobe and placed his clothes near the back of the cave, as he usually did. It had been humiliating at first, but after seeing the condition his first set of clothes had been left in, he quickly agreed with Mr. N that he should definitely remove his clothing before turning, lest he destroy another set of perfectly good clothes. He turned his gaze toward the moon, allowing it to pull at the beast hidden beneath his skin. Ashveil couldn't say that he had ever gotten used to the pain that came with transforming. He could feel his muscles tearing, his bones breaking and reforming, his heart pounding so fast and hard that it stole his breathe from his lungs. He could somehow still hear Mr. N whimpering behind him over the sound of his gruesome transformation. Mr. N always refused to abandon him when he turned, even when he wasn't able to take his medicine one time.
It had also been the last time.
After several long moments of tearing muscle and skin and snapping of bones finally died down. What was left in the aftermath was a whimpering wolf that had curled in on itself. His ears were flattened against his head and the muscles beneath his dark fur rippled and twitched. It took what felt like several long moments before he could even raise his head. When he did, he locked eyes with Mr. N, the monkey looking at him with clear concern in his eyes. Ashveil shuffled his body until he could gently nudge the side of Mr. N's head, the man-turned-monkey raising his arms to hug his snout. He waited until the other's arms fell before he finally climbed to his four feet. Trotting forward a few steps, he stopped and looked back at the cave, seeing Mr. N still watching him, looking inexplicably sad. He broke the eye contact before looking up at the moon, hanging full and heavy in the sky. The sight pulled at the beast within him, dully calling to the beast buried within him under the medication.
With a howl, he ran away into the forest.
It was time to hunt.
To Be Continued. . .