ghostwolf | Hound of the Baskervilles

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[phdr]

Hound of the Baskervilles

Two months ago, during the time when the different worlds converged, the tiny Lacie encountered a very large wolf. One month after receiving that negligible cut to her palm, she turned into a little black wolf puppy for a night, and wasted no time sinking her fangs into Kevin's hand when he tried to pick her up and keep her out of trouble.

Tonight, there are two wolves in the Baskerville House, and they've pretty much figured out what's going on.

Lady Shelly and Oswald agreed some time ago that Kevin would make a pretty good wolf, if it came to it, and he really can't help but feel like someone is laughing at him over it. His two stints as a bunny rabbit did not prepare him at all for walking around on four legs -- walking, not hopping -- and having a mouth full of huge teeth. He keeps tripping over his own feet, getting confused as he tries to sort through all the sounds and smells, and earlier his long tail got stuck in a door. It would be easier if he were a pup like Lacie, loping about the house and crawling under the furniture, but as a full-grown werewolf Kevin is huge, four feet tall at the shoulder and heavier than he is as a human. Finally, after spending half the night trying to endure the house, the white wolf ventures outside in an attempt to get used to this new form. After all, given that the Brat has turned for the second month in a row, it looks like he's probably going to be stuck with it...

When not at home with Glenwald and company, Kevin can be found wandering through the streets he often haunts during patrol, enjoying the late-night solitude of the mansion's gardens, or perhaps even sniffing about at Lady Shelly's house, just to make sure nothing suspicious is going on nearby. Hopefully, he'll be back at home safe and sound before the moon sets. If he isn't, somebody gets to deal with a mortified and very naked knight, who will proceed to sleep in their house for two days and then eat the whole pantry for breakfast. Ah, the noble life of a werewolf!

[

fallingbackup wearing his shiny new coat, if you will. Due to busyness, there is no post as of yet for

bittybratty's first transformation, but I will link it here whenever something is backdated. Slow, late, and backtags welcome as always!]

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Ironically, because this is Kevin and not a Break, this tactic almost works; the trouble with carrying things in your mouth is that if you grin too much those things are liable to fall out. He almost drops the hat, because that is freaking hysterical. If he were human, he'd probably be having a gigglefit right now, which has certainly been known to happen but is still pretty rare. The last time had been concurrent with not sleeping for three and a half days, actually.

On some level, Kevin is aware of this. He is aware that he is acting like an idiot himself, and that being so silly is unbecoming of pretty much anything that has long-since grown into adulthood, and that he is not in his right mind at all. But he doesn't have complete control of his wolfbrain yet and the wolfbrain thinks this is all a grand hoot, so he's off like a ~~MAGICAL FURRY SHOOTING STAR~~ shot through the night -- and once he starts running, he realizes how great running is, and doesn't stop. He'll have to slow down eventually to keep the game up, of course, but the grounds are huge and he's a great big white thing. It's not like Gilbert will lose him.

More importantly, Gilbert will not lose the hat. It is too important, thus the satisfaction in stealing it in the first place.

He's lucky he's in good shape, because he takes off running after this damned wolf at full speed, stumbling awkwardly over holes in the ground and twigs and rocks and whatever obstacle is in his way to win his main objective. To take his hat back.

"Kevin I'm serious, cut it out!"

Yeah, no. Kevin runs until he comes to the areas of the garden that are most twisty and turny, full of hedges, difficult to run around in properly. Only then does he stop, turning to let Gilbert catch up, tail wagging obnoxiously. This is an amusing game. He doesn't get to do things like this with the tiny Gilbert. He's seen the poor thing subjected to the Lacies once or twice, even when they weren't trying to be awful, and he has a feeling any kind of game would just make the kid cry.

That said, wrestling with the big Lacie earlier was pretty fun, since he actually had a chance at winning this time. But Lacie fights dirty. Kevin wonders idly if Gilbert would actually bother to try at all, and if he did, how honorable he'd be about it.

Sadly, this Big Gilbert looks about ready to cry too. Except his teary face looks more hilarious than depressing, easier to laugh at than to wibble at. Tiny Gilbert has the bonus of being cute, while Fail here is just pathetic and pitiful. Because this is a hat. It's not like it's a child, but one would think it was for all the fuss he's putting up right now.

He catches up easier than most people would. Being in shape and going after something that he cherishes, he's giving it his all.

"Be careful with it, don't bite down too hard--!"

Fear not, Mister Gilbert; just earlier tonight Kevin was carrying a squirming puppy around in those teeth and she's none the worse for wear. The hat is fine. It's just being held as a hostage while Kevin kneels down in a play bow, ass in the air and tail going nuts, an invitation for Gilbert to try and take it away from him. That's all.

(If Kevin is lucky this part of the night will, for the most part, be a blur in his memory later on. He's never going to live his puppy side down.)

He's starting to seriously doubt that this is really Kevin. Even as a dog, Kevin wouldn't just toy with him like this. He has to at the very least be closer to a Break, or at least one of the Kevins that enjoys watching him suffering through teasing, because he is suffering watching his hat undergo such torture.

Though, if he thinks about it he'll recall the time he was a frog and magically knew how to swim like one. But that's another thing he's working on repressing, so like that connection is going to be made at a time like this.

As soon as he's close, he does just as Kevin is trying to get him to do. Edging in close, hunched over with one hand out like he's going to try and snatch it when he gets close enough.

"Just...drop it........drop it already!"

The majestic beast waits patiently, hindquarters twitching as he tries to keep himself from not tearing across the lawn again. This game is a fun game. Gilbert is easy to play with! Kevin watches him intently, waiting to see if he'll dart forward to grab the hat. When he does, Kevin will --

-- wait. The hell is that? Something's moving over -- the wolf stands up suddenly, ears forward and tail stilling, and does indeed drop the hat. There's a thing. It's a pokey looking thing but it isn't a porcupine. It's like -- is that a hedgehog or something maybe? Holy shit! Kevin sees Gilbert all the time; random wildlife is way more interesting. He trots over to investigate, game utterly forgotten.

For the moment.

Stupid majestic beast you clearly don't understand the precious cargo that you're carrying...! But hey, what does it matter if he's finally got his hat back. It's too dark to see if there's truly any damage done to it, but Gilbert still kneels down to the ground, picks it up and dusts it off, holding it up to look at it this way and that, making sure there are no holes or obvious marks.

It kinda smells like Wolf!Kevin saliva though, so he's not exactly keen on putting it back on his head just yet...

For now he simply sighs, stands up and grasps it in one hand as he turns to follow the manwolf. He's got more yelling to do, of course.

"Kevin! You can't steal people's clothes just because you're suddenly a wolf!" He frowns and remains a few steps away. He'd done some pretty odd things when he'd suddenly become a frog, maybe Kevin just couldn't help it.

"This had better not happen to you every time you sneeze like with Break and that bird..." he adds, mostly under his breath. How many more people will be taken by this curse. How many.

Yeah, well, at least Raven was probably the one to cook whatever it is he ate tonight.

Generally, Kevin ignores him in favor of the hedgehog. But his hearing is excellent enough that he catches the mutterings, and that gets his attention. (Good thing, too, because he was probably about two seconds away from spines in his nose.) Turning over his shoulder, he eyes his patrol buddy, ears swiveling back and forth as he thinks. Then, he tries one more time to explain, waving his paw at the sky again.

The moon, Gilbert. Look at the moon. It has nothing to do with sneezing, and he actually feels a bit of sympathy for whichever Break that is, because changing from man to wolf hurt like hell, and he can't imagine transforming as often and unpredictably as for a sneeze... On the other hand, he doesn't have much sympathy, because Breaks are assholes. Let's be honest.

He's still gesturing at the sky and Gilbert still doesn't get it. The clouds, the sky, the moon, the stars, darkness. None of these things are really striking a close chord with him, so he sighs in annoyance and rubs at his forehead with one hand while the other still grasps tightly to his hat.

"Don't worry, you'll turn back eventually. Everyone does."

Though he assumes this is just normal transformation and not something that he could potentially read about at the mansion's library.

Well. Kevin can't really roll his eyes as a wolf, but he can roll his head. So he does, and resumes following the hedgehog, for the moment. What he doesn't realize is that he'll have his voice back soon enough. He hasn't been paying attention to what time it is, or the fact that the moon is setting.

If Gilbert wanders away from him, he'll follow. He's had enough time to himself tonight. Now he feels like being companionable, and it's kind of nice, getting out of talking back by not being able to speak.

Aaand he's walking away again. Easily distracted doggy is becoming a bother, so Gilbert does just that, turning around to walk away towards the mansion. Kevin seems to be okay on his own, and he has a hat to clean. Maybe once he's done straightening it up he can bring Kevin back some meat or. Something.

Not like he cares or anything, though.

Much the way Break usually is, Kevin is half with him and half not -- he wanders along in the same direction as Gilbert, but sometimes he's at his side, sometimes he's behind him, and sometimes he goes on ahead. He's particularly distractable once they're inside. He hasn't been into the place with his new nose and ears yet, and he slows down to investigate. It's amazing, really. The wolf can identify a few of the people who passed by recently, and even when the smells are unfamiliar, he can differentiate between Chains and humans now. This werewolf thing might actually turn out to be useful, depending...

That solves one problem, but it does feel a little strange to have a huge wolf at his side as he walks through the halls of the mansion. The hallways are dim, only a few candles still lit, which helps him to ignore the oddness of it all. If he can't see as well, he can just pretend like it's really Kevin at his side, patrolling like normal.

Except even Kevin was more of a conversationalist than Wolfy McGee over here.

The kitchen is nearby, and the kitchen has both food and a sink, so he stops here and goes straight for some type of water-slash-soap source. His hat is getting a bath now.

He'll get food out in a second unless Kevin is feeling particularly ambitious towards pulling cabinets open himself.

"My poor hat..." he laments sadly as he works.

While Gilbert is busy being finicky and fastidious, the wolf occupies himself sniffing around, but warily -- he remembers accidentally snorting a bit of pepper in Shelly's kitchen and having a sneezing fit over it. There isn't anything in here that's any more interesting than there was there, so sure enough, his attention turns to the icebox.

This, he knows, is where the meat will be.

The lack of opposable thumbs is a problem, but Kevin doesn't really feel like waiting for Fussy McNoisypants to open it for him. Carefully, with surprising delicacy, he manages to get his teeth around the handle enough to pull the door open. When Gil turns around, he'll see a successful and happy wolfbutt, tail wagging while the other half is buried in other people's leftovers. Aww, yiss. Someone left, like, a whole chicken in here.

Okay, he has to admit. That's pretty adorable in a weird sort of way.

He'll take a second out of his busy hat-cleaning time to look over at Kevin and snicker under his breath. Cute.

Unsanitary too, but he'll get to that in a second.

Don't worry, Gilbert. Glen thinks he's adorable, too. Good thing neither of you are inclined to ruin it by telling him so.

Wolf he may be, but he takes a while devouring his latest snack, because he still tries to do it neatly. Truth be told, being so big, having terrifying teeth and a long tongue, and great big paws to go with them -- it makes him feel self-conscious. Kevin is a pretty well-mannered guy in general, at least at the dinner table. But as a wolf he tries extra hard not to make a mess or show his teeth too much, even if he's got his head buried in the icebox and his current company is otherwise occupied. He might be a dog but that doesn't mean he has to be barbaric about it.

He hasn't eaten anything raw yet tonight, either. Eventually he'll just start thinking of raw meat as extremely rare steak and move on with his life, but tonight is not that night.

Hat sufficiently clean (for now) he sets it off to the side to let it dry a bit before turning towards the ravenous wolf. Well, this is a sorry sight, but if he offered to bring the food out to the table, he might have even more trouble than he's already having.

And Kevin might be offended if he put it on the floor.

........Hm.

"Ah. Kevin..." It's probably smart to ask first, he doesn't want to get bitten. "Do you want me to put that somewhere...easier...to eat it...?"

Licking his muzzle, Kevin tilts his head back to look up at Gilbert before conceding the point. Even with his thick, luscious fur, it isn't exactly pleasant to eat directly out of the icebox.

As it turns out, though, the wolf is totally cool with the table. Being four feet high at the shoulder means he can reach the top of it easily, without having to try to get his wolfbutt settled in a chair; he had tea with Lady Shelly earlier this evening in that exact manner. Backing out of the refrigerator, Kevin trots over to the table and shoves a chair out of the way, sitting down with his tail neatly curled around his feet. Yes. This will do fine.

Okay, well, this is normal, he supposes. This has become what his life is all about. Serving leftovers from the icebox to a huge wolf who used to be his patrolling partner who will one day be his superior while he's sitting properly at the table in one of the nice kitchen chairs. Life goes on and on, and this is just another thing that he has to accept as 'normal'.

He takes the plate with the rest of the chicken out and sets it down on the table first, then turns back to see what else might be hiding in here.

That chicken will soon be a shredded mess upon that plate. Occasionally there's an alarming crunch as Kevin runs across a bone and eats it anyway; bones as dinky as the ones a chicken has are negligible to him. At least he doesn't let his mess get past the edges of his plate.

Mostly.

There are some vegetables as well, but Gil is pretty sure that these won't go over as well as the chicken. Fruit, too, and some good looking bread alongside a half-eaten chocolate cake. He's not sure if these would be bad for a wolf stomach, but he'll probably switch back soon. Though not necessarily by the time he's done digesting, and switching back with a stomachache probably wouldn't be the most fun he's had today.

Ah, but there we are. Half a turkey with some roasted potatoes still on the plate. Gil takes it over to the table and puts it down next to the plate of chicken.

"Are you still hungry?"

There's raw meat too, which he's sure would be okay for a wolf to eat, but Kevin-inside-the-wolf might reject it on principle alone. This would be easier if he could talk, but Gil is not going to encourage him to howl words. Not when children might be trying to sleep.

He's always hungry, if the suddenly wagging tail behind him is any indication. It's precisely the sort of gorgeous fluffy plume that makes you want to grab onto it, and if Kevin had any idea it was doing that, he'd hate it. He has a great many tiny dignities, and having something fluffy attached to his bum and showing off his emotions like this ruins all of them...!

But in addition to dignities, now he also has turkey, so that's cool.

Gilbert doesn't know a whole lot about animal behavior, but he's pretty sure a wagging tail means he's happy.

Damn it all, this is so embarrassing all of a sudden. You might not feel it at the moment, Kevin, but Gilbert does. Shit. Okay, he'll go back and look for more, hold on a second. Let him search and ponder his life choices up to this point while he does it.

When Gilbert turns around again, it will be just in time to see the wolf yawn, mouth opening wide to expose a gaping maw riddled with horrifying teeth, meant for shredding and severing and generally tearing things into tiny pieces.

After that he lifts a back leg to scratch one of his ears again, shakes himself, and resumes nibbling daintily on his turkey.

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