Monkshood

Edgar felt the adrenaline course through his veins as a thin layer of sweat moistened the nape of his neck. Keeping his breath steady, he pushed harder and faster to match the pace set by Paul and Elliot as the three of them leapt over the Throckmorton property border. He felt his body transform as he sailed through the air for a brief second, his skull elongating, his limbs contracting and his whole body twisting. He felt fine hairs of fur sprout from his fair skin, and he felt his vision and hearing shift, becoming sharper and clearer. His mind changed along with his body, pushing the humanity in him to a side and letting the primal take over.The clothes ripped off their bodies as they finished the transformation, replaced by various shades of thick fur.

Paul took the head of the trio as the black furred wolf, larger than his counterparts, the fastest and the strongest. His self-assured stride marked him as the leader while the others followed. Edgar too was black furred, but while his brother was more of a midnight black, he had a raven shade. He was sinewy and lithe, with a graceful stride of a cheetah rather a wolf. His eyes had a golden sheen upon them, and it hinted at his special ability of ocular pyrokinesis; the ability to set things on fire with a mere look, as well as manipulate it.

Elliot, their cousin, flanked Edgar on his left. He was a common grey colored wolf, with silver eyes. Out of all the Throckmorton wolves, he was the only one capable of changing the eye color upon transformation, and he never failed to boast about it in human form. His eyes allowed him to see beyond what others saw, a post cognitive ability that allowed him to see trails and paths, ghosts of events that occurred in the past. But his ability was not yet honed properly, and he still had much to learn on how to control it.

Edgar's wolf mind didn't have the ability to hold his emotions in like his human mind did, and memories from the funeral overtook his senses. He relived moments of the funeral, the decorated boat carrying the corpses of his late family down the river, flames that he created rising high in the twilight. Paul's oath to bring justice to the family and destroy whoever committed the heinous massacre echoed in his ears. He remembered the silent crying of Lady Throckmorton and the anger of Lord Throckmorton along with the way Elliana held him by his arm and had herself pressed closer to him, sharing the pain of her cousin; her lover.

Edgar shook his head, pushing all the memories back so he could focus on the present.

There was no time to mourn now, they had work to do.

As the trio rushed through the Moorish fields, the sky started to get darker. The sunlight vanished, and the blue of the sky became completely covered by grey that got darker and darker by the second. The wind rushed pass them ominously, heavy with an ionization that was unique to their destination.

And in no time, the magical town of Monkshood appeared in front of them.

Monkshood was the home of the magic users, a pocket in space and time that only supernatural folks could access. No human ever had the fortune, or misfortune given the circumstance, of gazing at its dark nature, the jet black clouds that swirled above the town in the shape of a hurricane in the greyish sky called the eye of the devil, defending the town from anything that wished to bring it harm, or the malformed trees that looked downright monstrous, like ancient creatures frozen in bark and leaves.

The town was called the sunless realm, as it was forever embedded in the night without stars. The ground was packed by peculiarly shaped buildings that were vastly different from the architecture the rest of the country preferred, built from materials that were unique to Monkshood alone. Some buildings looked like malformed spheres, while some looked like tree trunks. In the middle of the town was a tower that rose high enough to pierce the devil's eye in the center. That was where the leaders of the magicians resided.

The wolves felt the magic in the air thicken as they passed the town borders, as it seeped through their skin to mingle with their blood, and fuse with the very air they breathed. If a non-supernatural were to breathe this air, they would definitely die from the toxicity. Even the wolves felt its dangerous nature, although their bodies were adapted to survive it.

As they reached the little houses that littered the outer part of the town, the three wolves changed form. In their human forms, they stood hidden by a clump of bushes, panting from the long run, naked as the day they were born.

Wolves didn't really care for nudity, but magic users did.

"We need to find some clothes," Paul stated.

"There are some clothing lines over there," Edgar pointed at a distant house, where the backyard was filled with lines of clothes and bedsheets of various sizes.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Elliot questioned, and they began to discreetly move towards the house, keeping their nudity hidden by sticking to the bushes that lined the suburb.

The three wolves quickly sprinted towards the clothing lines as they got near enough and began to sort through the men's clothing to find anything that fit their sizes. The clothes were yet to be fully dried, but they had to make do with the circumstances.

"Should've brought some extra clothes," Elliot grumbled as he found an undershirt his size, "But, nooo, you two didn't want to 'waste the time'."

"Oh, hush, Elliot," Paul replied, "A little chill won't do you any harm."

"If I catch a cold, I'm sneezing on you." Elliot threatened his companions.

Suddenly, a yelp came from behind them, and the three werewolves startled.

A young girl, no more than thirteen, was staring at them with wide eyes and an even wider mouth. A dropped laundry basket pooled around her ankles, and she was dressed in simple linen dress, a headscarf and a large white apron over her clothes. On her feet were practical boots larger than her actual size.

The three wolves stared back at her in various states of dress. Paul was thankful that he was already dressed in a pair of trousers, last thing he wanted to do with his life was traumatizing teenagers.

His companions didn't have such luck.

Edgar hid behind Paul's larger frame immediately, and Elliot pulled on his undershirt to hide his private.

They made various nonsensical voices trying to explain what is going on, but all they did was make the girl even more confused.

"It's not what you think!" Elliot screeched.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what to think," The girl replied, "Are you stealing my father's and brother's clothes? Because if you are, I need to tell my mother."

"No!" The brothers and cousin yelled.

"We aren't stealing anything," Elliot lied, "In fact, we're not even real. We're just figments of your imagination!"

The brothers gaped at Elliot, wondering what he was up to.

The girl raised an eyebrow, "I don't think I'm mad enough to fantasize about three basically naked grown men. I'm fourteen. What kind of a pervert do you think I am?"

Paul and Edgar groaned, while Elliot sputtered.

"We don't think you're a pervert. Besides, there's nothing wrong with being curious in your imagination about the opposite sex-"

Paul cut Elliot off before he could make the situation worse by putting a hand over his mouth.

"I apologize for my companion," He replied, "And our deeds. We aren't stealing, we're merely burrowing the clothes so we won't be stoned for indecency when we step foot inside the town. We're werewolves, and as soon as we finish our business we will return the clothes."

The girl replied, "Oh! Why didn't you say so at first? Here, let me bring you some already dried ones, those are still wet."

The werewolves thanked the girl as she returned with dry clothes, and upon promising to her that they will definitely return them, they left for the town.

"Figments of imagination," Edgar scoffed in his soft voice, "Was that the best you could come up with, Elliot?"

"I was too busy trying not to flash the young lady to come up with a coherent reply," Elliot snapped at him, making the brothers laugh, "You were no better, hiding behind your brother."

"At least I didn't embarrass myself with my big mouth. Be glad her mother wasn't anywhere near, or she would've chased us with a broomstick."

"Quiet, you too," Paul cut them off, "We got work to do."