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The woods behind the Ramshackle dorm were a quiet place. Home to a few animals and ghosts, and rarely traveled in, it was untouched by people for the most part. Most nights, one could walk through it and hear nary a sound save for the crunch of leaves and the song of the wind.
That is to say, it was true on most nights. But tonight, with the full moon shining high and bright in the starry sky, it was a different story.
Paws dashed on the muddied ground, joyful yips breaking the fragility of the night air. Carefree howls played like laughter, unburdened by any struggles of the day. With the full moon out, two had shed their human skin for just a moment, and were savoring every second of it.
An adolescent tawny-wolf, its fur shining red in the moonlight, bounded through the brush, chasing or being chased, though its veins hummed with play, not fear. He let out a cooing sound, halfway to a taunt, human in its humor to its companion bounding after him in the distance.
His companion was ethereal, a pure white fox with two wagging tails. It let out a gecker call, the rough, choppy sound bouncing off trees as it ran. Its smaller legs pumped, not as fast as its wolf companion, but lighter, as if buoyed by the glow of the moon. He himself seemed to emanate light, like a sign from the universe to indicate this creature was something special.
The small fox dashed forward, a burst of speed sending him careening ahead and crashing into the wolf’s side. The two rolled in the underbrush, tumbling through the leaves, dirty streaking on their fur. They nipped at each other playfully as they went flank over paw, panting as they eventually stumbled to a stop.
The two panted, exhaustion of hours spent chasing, evading, playing catching up to them. They curled up together, the fox's head nudging at the bottom of the wolf's, a chittering laugh coming out of his throat. The wolf dropped his head down on the fox’s, huffing out his own amusement as the fox whined from the pressure, clawing lightheartedly at his fur. The wolf collapsed backwards, dragging the fox with him, squirming in his paw's grasp. The wolf ignored it, pointedly puffing and closing his eyes as if to say “sleep now, complain later.” The fox stared for a moment, eyes rolling slightly when it saw the wolf open one eye and quickly close it again, like a child trying to see if its fake sleep act was working.
The fox sighed, so very human in its fond exasperation, and settled in to sleep, cradled into the wolf’s side. It was warm, even in the cool night air, and pleasant, despite the hard ground below them. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, he was tired. So he let himself be lulled into sleep by the gentle sounds of breathing and a steadily beating heartbeat at his back.
—
The morning sun peeked between the trees, sending a ray of sun directly into Jack Howl’s eyes. He groaned, fatigue still dragging at his eyelids. He shifted, hand pressing down on the morning dew-wet grass and mud, a wheezing sound coming from below him when he moved. He rolled over quickly, turning to peer at a just as tired-looking Ace Trappola, clothes helplessly disheveled and dirtied. Jack knew he probably looked just as messy. Vil would have a fit if he saw them, or at least a fondly exasperated sigh before he sternly directed them to a shower and hairbrush.
The redhead groaned as he sleepily sat up, rubbing at his side where Jack accidentally pressed his body weight onto the smaller boy. His hair was a ruffled mess, sticks and dirt caught up in it from when they’d wrestled last night, and there was a smear of mud on his cheek. It streaked further when he rubbed childishly at his eyes, trying to clear the thickened sleep from them.
“How are you feeling?” Jack asked, his voice a low rumble in the early morning. Ace stretched and then winced, clearly feeling the strain of the night before. Even for a born werewolf like Ace, the full moons forced transformation, and the subsequent nightful of energy to burn off was taxing on the body. Jack, as a kitsune, shifted with him out of choice, to ease the burden and keep him company (and if he had plenty of his own fun, that was his own business).
“Eh, not too bad. Sore and could probably sleep another five hours, but nothing unusual. Not like last month,” He grimaced. Last month had been rough, falling during VDC preparations. Put through the wringer by Vil, living surrounded by near strangers in Ramshackle, and a night of running made for a miserable next day. It was an especially tough “time of the month” for Ace, and Jack had felt bad, seeing the guy so exhausted and lamentable.
“That’s good…” Jack murmured, feeling awkward as he woke up and clocked how close they were. It was different during the night, freeing and fun, but now he felt…exposed? His face felt warm. A low rumble caught his attention and Ace’s own face flushed to match his.
“Looks like someone’s hungry,” Jack laughed, shifting to stand up and offering his hand to Ace. Ace grabbed the hand and scowled, though Jack knew he wasn’t mad.
“Of course I’m hungry; I ran for 10 hours last night!” Ace grumbled. “Don’t act like your stomach isn’t eating itself too.” Ace tugged at Jack’s hand, still holding it, “Come on, if we hurry to Ramshackle, we can sneak in a shower before Yuu and Grim even get up. Then we can go to Heartslabyul for breakfast. Riddle might complain a little about unexpected guests, but we all know he’s got a soft spot for you–” He chattered the whole time they walked the winding forest path back to the Ramshackle dorm, Jack’s hand held tightly in his own.