theresalwayshope: (outdoors} hunter in the forest / nymph i)
Allison had to go back to work and school tomorrow, and she was terrified.

Since the morning she'd woken up as a werewolf, Allison hadn't spoken to a soul. She'd skipped school and work, claiming she was sick, and stayed in her apartment, trying to get a grip on what was happening. She'd told no one, though she was fairly certain Stiles knew because of Derek, and anyone Stiles might have told.

She didn't actually care who knew, she just worried they would come try to check on her, and she wasn't going to see anyone until she had a grip on this...an anchor she could rely on.

Derek was the only person she'd seen, the only one she trusted. The wolf was angry, even hurting, making her half crazy as she fought the urge to go see Derek and Stiles, to find Scott or Melissa or the sheriff...she even had to stop herself from calling Newt or Kate, or go looking for Jason...

The wolf wanted pack, but most of her pack was human, and the rest (i.e., Scott), she wouldn't allow herself to hurt, no matter if it could be endured. She ached for them, a soul-deep hurt to seek them out and lose herself in the safety of being near them, but she couldn't trust herself not to lash out. She had no idea what she would do around people, and after that first night...no, Derek was her alpha. He could stop her, and as much as it rankled to be so dependent on anyone, just knowing he was there, a phone call or a howl away soothed her wolf enough to keep control.

But...she had to go back to work, and to school, and she had been struggling for two days to find her anchor. She didn't think it was inside her, but she was terrified to look beyond herself for anything. She couldn't even look to be her own anchor, because she was the one person in the world she absolutely did not trust.

Allison finally decided she had to try something, so she compromised with the two halves of herself: she went to the park.

It was relatively quiet, and being out under the open sky, with the grass and the trees, made the wolf happier. She could feel it, a knot loosening deep within as she breathed in the dirt and leaves, the scent of a gopher burrowing just below the earth and people halfway across the park, a mixture of soaps and colognes and individual bodies that made her a little bit sick if she focused too hard. That much she had discovered: she could dull her hearing if she wasn't concentrating too hard on any one thing, and if she regulated her breathing, she could handle the scents until she found one to focus on.

Finding a relatively deserted patch of grass under a large oak tree, Allison sat cross-legged on the grass, dressed for a workout in sneakers, black leggings, and a sports bra under a loose grey t-shirt with a wide collar that hung off one shoulder. Pulling her hair back off her neck into a messy knot atop her head, she settled in comfortably and looked around for a moment, taking in the people around her...distant, at least a few dozen yards all around, but there. The wolf didn't seem to mind...even when she pulled voices out of the crowd, honed in on the scent of citrus shampoo on the blonde man who was walking his dog, or the vanilla clinging to the two women pushing strollers along a paved path, the wolf was simply there, growling peevishly in the back of her mind and growing restless for pack once again.

So far, so good.

Shutting her eyes, Allison took a few deep breaths to center herself. She knew some very rudimentary meditation techniques, collected during her archery lessons over the years to improve focus and concentration. She'd added a few during her summer in France, and she was hoping a little discipline might help her get a handle on the wolf. If she couldn't find an anchor, then damn it, she was going to cage the bitch up.

And if she couldn't...then she was going to ask Derek to lock her up until he either did what she wanted, or...

Pushing that dark thought from her head, Allison focused on relaxing. She tried to still her thoughts, to find a calm place within filled with white noise and breath. Focusing, she allowed the world to narrow to just that: air in, air out, nothing but the beat of her heart and the draw of air into her lungs.

The twig snapped behind her, and it rang out like a shot in her ears.

Heart racing, she lost control and twisted around, rolling fluidly to a predator's crouch, claws buried in the dirt and coiled to spring. Her eyes were wild, lupine gold as her lips peeled back from her teeth in a low, warning growl as the wolf prepared to fight...and the girl fought as hard as she could to freeze, to wait, to see the threat before she ended up killing someone.

(Either find Allison during a lull in her meditation, or be the poor sucker that was unlucky enough to sneak up on her from behind. Either way, werewolf Allison is a werewolf. Tag, play, profit! Open until plot's end. :P)
theresalwayshope: (bloody} beaten / afraid)
Allison was crouched in an alley, blood on her hands for the second time in at least two weeks...and this time, she was well and truly terrified.

Somewhere during the chaos of the storm, the sudden onslaught of noise and scent and violence, she'd lost track of her surroundings as she ran away, far away, as far as her new strength and speed could carry her. She could have found her way...a tilt of her head, a flare of her nostrils, even now she was certain of the trail she could follow to go home or go someplace where she could hunt...but she couldn't move. She couldn't allow herself to move.

In the dark, a rat was skittering through some trash. Bugs crawled, moths fluttered...in the distance, people talked, milled, shrieked. They were all right there, right in front of her, in her lungs and in her ears...

Prey.

Shutting her eyes tight...gold eyes, she'd checked, that meant she hadn't killed the passerby she'd attacked once she had changed...Allison balled herself up tighter as the urges clawed at her insides, hot and angry. The blood on her hands wasn't enough, and the claws that tipped each finger wouldn't go away. The fangs that filled her mouth were sharp and hungry, and the other changes...

She'd already seen the monster in a car window when she'd looked into her own eyes, already knowing, but needing to be sure she wasn't without hope. If she could hide, if she could stay still, if she could shrink up small and cold enough that nobody would find her, maybe she wouldn't kill anyone.

A scent touched her nose. It could have been right there, the smell of something...

Food. Prey. Her mind, her instincts couldn't tell the difference between the people on the street and the smell of some distant meal cooking in a small, warm home filled with light and people...bodies, meat, quarry waiting to be taken. She didn't know how to shut it off.

The whimper that ripped from her throat wasn't human as she pressed her head to her knees, balling up tighter still. The urge to move was strong, overpowering. She wanted to run, she wanted to hunt...

She wanted her pack.

Only then did she remember Scott's roar. The human part of her mind, the rational part she feared even more than the wolf that had been shoved into her skin without permission, remembered his roar, and what it had done to Isaac, to Malia. It ripped the beast out of Isaac, but they saved Malia.

Not Scott.

All at once, the urge to run stilled inside her. Instead, the instinct seemed to settle in her chest, gathering in a knot that made it hard to breathe. The wolf knew what to do, the wolf knew how to help.

The wolf...the thing she was so terrified of...could save her.

Uncurling just a little, Allison tipped her head up towards the sky. She caught the scent of people again, people and prey, but she could stand it. A little longer, she could resist it.

The knot in her chest shattered like glass as Allison threw her head back and howled for her Alpha.

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Allison Argent

March 2024

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