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Its quite safe to say that things have never exactly been “normal” for you.
Being born a lycanthrope will do that to you.
You had tried living in regular society despite your birthright, but that quickly proved to be immensely difficult. Controlling your transformation, not touching silver cutlery and jewelry, and behaving like a human were all things that you couldn’t do. It just wasn’t in your genetics to integrate with the rest of humanity.
That’s all of what has led you to where you currently reside. In the middle of the woods, living in a fairly large cave in the side of rock structure covered in layers of fuzzy green moss. You could live the way you were always meant to, hunt the way your instincts desired. It was surprisingly cozy, and you were able to live how you are with absolutely no disruption.
Until now, that is.
Now, you currently hover over the barely conscious body of a young boy who was very quickly bleeding out onto the forest floor. His hand lay over his stomach, blood pouring out from a white crimson soaked blouse . His breathing was quick and shallow, growing more labored as the seconds ticked away.
By the looks of his attire, he had to be the son of a noble, or someone equally as wealthy. That would mean someone would be looking for him soon, probably.
This was your current predicament.
If you tried to help this boy, you would get involved into the world of humans once more, only abandoning that life just a few years prior. But if you left now without doing anything, this child would no doubt die in a painful manner, all by himself—
Hearing the snap of a branch just a bit to the side of the boy, you jerked your head in the direction of the sound and spotted a small brown wolf making its way over to the injured boy, a hungry look in its eyes. It was at this point your decision was made for you.
With a low snarl, your large and imposing lycan form leapt in front of the boy, staring down the now tiny predator in front of you. Sharp claws dug into the dirt, daring the wolf that if it were to come any closer, you’d slice it into ribbons. Ears pressing flat against your skull, you bared your jagged teeth and growled to drive the intimidation home.
It was successful, as not a moment later the wolf let out a small whining noise and turned tail as quickly as it came. You relaxed your form, turning to take a look at the most likely now unconscious boy, only to freeze.
Big round eyes the color of a clear sky stares back at you, widened with shock and fear. His platinum blonde hair shook as his form shivered with newfound fear. Just as he was about to open his mouth to scream, you surged forward and placed your arm over the lower part of his face, muffling him with the dense red fur. Carefully but quickly, you hoist his body up to your chest and get a steady hold on him.
Once you do, you start running back in the direction of your cave, bleeding young boy in your arm. You assume he passed out again, as any struggling he had starting doing ceased after a few minutes of you running. In this instance, you appreciate the fact that your lycan form is bipedal, as running on fours would be impossible while properly holding the boy.
After around 10 minutes, you finally see the familiar entrance to your home and slow down to walk, looking around for anything strange before going inside. For whatever reason, ever since you stumbled upon the boy in the parts of the woods you frequently hunted, you’ve felt an unshakable pair of eyes trailing your every move.
It was unnerving to say the least, but you couldn’t sense anything physically following you, so you brushed it off for now. There were far more urgent things to attend to at this moment.
Now in the safety of the cave, you decided now was a good time to shift into a more appropriate form to take care of the boy. Placing him down onto the small bundle of deer hide you've accumulated and turned into a rug of sorts, you take a moment to change. Bones bend and crack, fur shrinks and disappears into skin, wolf ears and tail disappear completely.
You grasp a mostly broken mirror you kept in a pile of items you find in the forest, taking a look at your reflection. A human looks back and blinks tired silver blue eyes, messy burgundy bangs hang above them in a frizzy mess. The rest of your shoulder length hair is tied back into a low bushy ponytail.
Your human clothing is the same per usual, ripped dark blue blouse that is tucked into a pair of black trousers, a dark brown knitted shawl wrapped around your neck that hangs off your shoulders. The only thing missing is a pair of shoes, but you don't need them. being barefoot is much more suitable.
Putting the mirror down, you flex your fingers before heaving a sigh. Moving your attention back to the boy, you grab some medicinal leaves and rainwater you've collected before ripping off some bits of rags to use for soaking up the blood.
You also snag the emergency aid kit you kept for special cases, you’d had this from when you were still in the small human town. You kneel down beside his unconscious form and peel back the bottom part of his bloody shirt, cringing when the sight of a open stitched wound shows itself.
Rolling up your sleeves, you get to work.
𓃥
Wiping off the blood on your fingers, you gazed at the boy who just underwent your treatment, his form still unconscious but stable.
The bloody shirt he wore was still halfway on him, but open from where you needed access to his wound. Looking at the rest of his clothes made a groan itch to leave your throat. He was definitely a royal, no doubt.
That’s when you spotted a glimmer on his finger. crouching back down to where he lay, you gently grasp his hand and inspect the source.
A diamond encrusted ring with a thick golden band sits on his pointer finger, the dark red stone in the middle so clean cut you could see your reflection in it.
Truthfully, if you had more questionable morals, you would have no qualms about plucking the valuable right from his finger and taking it for yourself to keep and admire.
But you already had enough problems as is, so that wouldn’t be a wise decision. Not to mention something about the jewelry seemed off to you, like you shouldn’t even touch it.
So you didn’t, and placed his hand right back next to his side. About to stand up and snuff out the burning candle to rest, you were pulled back as something clutched your shawl in a tight grip.
Turning your head, you hold in a gasp as you’re once more met with an icy stare. Fear, pain, and desperation swirl in the ocean eyes as the boy’s mouth parts open.
“Please don’t put out the light!”