CHPT 350: Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fearful.....

Claude couldn't speak for everyone. Everyone being every child and newly Reborn individual chosen to represent the many Gods watching over the earth somewhere both above the stars and below the bottomless burn of Hell. But, he assumed every one of them had viewed dreams differently ever since they'd met their God and the realm where they roamed.

That was the case for him at least. Something he took note of only recently....

Recently as in currently.

He'd found himself back in the tortured confines of his sleeping mind. The field full of WereWolves, Raiders, Civilians and Demons....the BloodStarved Vampires above. And the Lupines. The shadowy silhouettes of Jack and Dolion. It was all the same.

He couldn't see them-- but he knew he'd find them if he searched. But, only if. He had choices-- control. He was more lucid than ever. And that was somehow worse, made it feel that much more real, made his cowardice more known than the distant sounds of screaming and flesh being crunched by jaws stronger than iron itself.

He couldn't do it. He hated slumber for the very reasons he was experiencing. Relived trauma in perfect detail. He wouldn't do it....

That's what part of his mind repeated as he remained on all fours sickly dry heaving into the rushing lake in response to the smells of violence that wafted into his nose and ignited his body like an invigorating flame.

What a terrible thing to experience when trying to come to terms with being a Monster.

Part of his mind resented it all-- wanted to flee further from it. Any time he could avoid his nightmares he wanted to.

The other part raged within him like a lion in a cage far too small for comfort. Raged at his cowardice, his spineless behavior, raged at his unwillingness to take action. Action of any sort. Fight, protect, defend, murder. Anything.

The abject polarizing split of his psyche rang true in his thoughts as he continued to hack up absolutely nothing into the river.

"Stay away....."

"Get out there....NOW!"

"It's a dream. Wait until it's all over. It's not real."

"Everything around you can be as fake as you want it....you're still afraid! DO SOMETHING! Don't let them get away with this in your own mind dammit. You have the power to do something... Fight...something-- anything! Just fight!"

When the thought finished, he was no longer looking at his human face. Instead, all that welcomed him was a mask of steam burying the glow of his eyes as he rose to his feet.

The decision had been made. Maybe not entirely with a sound mind. Not with all the scents and smells clouding his mind in a fog of violent bloodlust. Either way, he wouldn't cower from his traumas.

He began running through the forest, eager to reach the violence beyond. Just when he was about to drop to all fours and enter a wolven gait he could stay in for hours, something caught his eye, freezing him dead in his tracks.

Legs....

Covered in wiry black and grey fur with more layers of muscles beneath than he could comprehend. Failure to comprehend....much like the size of the legs that he once again mistook for trees.

Before his lowered head could raise and attempt to meet the eyes of the ferociously stealthy God, it spoke. The small movement of the beast shocked him into a state of unmoving, ready for the wave of dominance he currently couldn't feel....the burning gaze of it's eyes...anything.

"Hm...You smell like Goat piss, Monsieur. What have you been getting into during my absence, hm?"

".....The fuck?"

When the voice repeated the question like a message on repeat, his environment slowly lost realism by the second. Sounds faded, scents disappeared, tree's blurred and mixed into a pointless background of pure black until the voice was all he could hear in the darkness.

A voice that wasn't Fenrir's. Easily understood by the unmistakably french accent coming from the giant wolf he'd previously seen.

His eyes opened soon after, taking in the clear skies spitting snowflakes down onto his skin where they melted immediately into crystal clear beads of water that trailed down his grey tinted steaming skin. No more hellish dark night skies with clouds that took on the shapes of his worst thoughts, only morning sun and distant clouds.

Rollan looked down at him, moving like a dog that caught an interesting scent. He'd done it again. Seemingly just appeared out of thin air. It was becoming less horrifying and more of a personal quirk at this point.

"Satyr...." He growled in a voice deepened by sleep.

Rollan turned his head in confusion, "Come again?"

Claude sat up and stretched, "Your smelling Satyr.....snot..."

Rollan laughed to himself, "I smell more....but keep your secrets if you must, Beast of beasts..."

Silence followed his words, leaving only the barely noticeable sounds of his fading footsteps.

"[Still no luck with....well you know?]"

"Nope. If this is some kind of lesson I'm going to skin him...as soon as I can stand properly around him." Claude huffed as he rose to his feet, noting that he was in an odd state of semi-transformation.

His muscles sat under his skin, alive and coursing with power that his hardened grey flesh could barely contain. Veins snaked across his chest and down his biceps like ropes. His nails hadn't yet become claws but gained their trademark oily black coloring along with his ears partially lengthening.

Spirals of steam still rose from his body as if he was still shifting. But nothing hurt, "What the hell is this?"

"[Ah yes. I was meaning to speak to you about this the first time it happened but you were busy.]"

"This has happened before?"

"[Yes....albeit a bit less intensely. Hm...what did you dream about?]" Arne inquired.

Claude felt his mind begin to relive the dream in response, causing him to reflexively begin looking around the long dead campfire where Ursula slept and the rest of the pack roamed. "Why even ask?"

"[Fair point. But, did you make any decisions or choices while you were dreaming?]"

Claude's eyebrow raised in interest, "Yes....I didn't get to act it out but yes. I made a choice."

"[That explains the sudden progression with your shift. I think it's safe to say your getting closer to unlocking your shifting power.]"

"...So a choice is why I'm looking like this?"

"[Indeed. A choice that's put you closer to what will trigger unlocking your power. Now, you're in a very delicate stage. Some of the medically trained Lupines from my time termed it PSBF-- or, Pre-Shift Breakthrough Fluidity. You're in a state where your body is becoming more malleable-- more willing to shift shapes without any help....it leaves you in a state of fluidity. Small changes become easier, big changes...more random and unnoticeable. Which is why you've woken up about thirty percent transformed. It's a dangerous time for Lupines to be out and about.....how fitting that you're dozens of miles from the nearest city, hm?]"

"So...it's kind of like growing pains, but with transforming?"

"[Hm. Never thought of it that way but I guess you could say that.]"

"Magical Lupine puberty....nice." Claude thought with a sigh before being interrupted by Rollan calling his name from his home ahead.

***

After putting on a shirt and checking the forest, Claude arrived at Rollan's home, on the verge of a migraine due to the random growth and decline of his sensory abilities that were about as sporadic as the rest of his body was. It took a bit of effort, but by the time he entered Rollan's home to find the man seated at the table in the center of the room, he was back to normal.....relatively.

Rollan sat in silence-- seemingly watching him from behind his blindfold, while he threw berries into his mouth with perfect accuracy and drank his alcohol. He stopped only to ask a question.

"Monsieur, why are you off?" He said, referring to Claude's entire body.

"Long story.." Claude said as he pulled up a seat at the table with Frosty at his side.

"Suit yourself." Rollan said with a shrug before leaning over the table with a look of focus on his drunken face. "I saw your work in the forest, Monsieur. Your Wood-Weaving is progressing nicely, no?"

"Still got room for work."

Rollan nodded, "Ahhh yes of course. I have a room for your work, no?"

Claude's head fell, "That is not how you reply to that phrase..."

Rollan pointed near his face and burped, "Focus! You're progressing with your studies as a Druidic Warrior, no? Eventually you'll hit a ceiling...so...we must give you new challenges to continue to eh....cultivate your growth, hm? I have that new challenge for you..."

Claude's interest was peaked as soon as he heard new challenges, "Talk to me."

"You see...this step of your training is usually completely devoid of combat. But as you said....you can use more work. Your next challenge is item retrieval."

"...What?"

Rollan paused to throw another berry into his mouth only to miss and cause it to fall straight into the perfectly fit hole of his drink. He regarded the instance with a shrug and took another swig from the bottle with the berry in it, "I need an item to complete a task.....something I can use to scribe the ancient markings."

"..And that's why you were gone yesterday?"

Rollan nodded, "Yes. I was out looking for the best option. I believe it found it. I found what you'll retrieve the item from."

"Which is?"

"A Serpent, Monsieur. Not just any Serpent, no. One of legendary proportion....easily recognizable by it's unique features and abilities. I need you to slay one and retrieve it's fangs. As a result, more power will come to you as a Druid....and a Shape-Shifter."