#its hard teaching the Violet Wolves...

[anawkwardlady]

Weston!Claude : I will now make sure everyone is here. Answer "present" when you hear your name and *long sigh*... For the love of god... Do not meow... We went through this. Meow is not an answer. We do not meow. Trancy, listen it concerns you.

[theron-darksunder]

“She watched his eyes dodge her, resisting the urge to scream” (Writing Prompt)

The scent of the bakers hard at work in the early hours ofthe morning greeted those that held on to the tendrils of sleep just a littlelonger.  Even early risers like he werestill in bed when the confectioners were already hard at work making dough riseand making that wretched drink called, coffee.  He could at least enjoy the scent of it butthe taste had never been one that had been pleasant on his tongue.  His taste laid more in tea and a finevintage.

Even within the confines of his office, he could imagine thescent of sweet pastries sneaking underneath his door or through the windowsill.  His breakfast, an array of fruit,eggs, and sausage still sat untouched in the corner of his desk.  The tea that had come with the meal, however,was gone and it was this that he mourned. Sighing, he placed the dish back on the platter and turned his attentionto the stack of papers to be graded.

He detested being a professor.  He could not teach how he wanted, in truepractical fashion.  Instead, he wasforced to show the theory and pseudo science that went into magic.  While he would have been in true agreementwith such a restriction in lower levels of classes, he did not understand itwhen it came to the more seasoned pupils. They knew the basics and he was just spouting rhetoric that had beenthrown at them many times before.  

The first stack of papers seemed to be crumpled as if thestudent had taken no care to make sure it was neat and tidy when it was turnedin.  Black and brown spots littered thecover page; the title Runic Theories in BloodMagick And Their Downfalls could barely be seen.  He was pretty sure the green marks were grassbut he was unsure of whether he understood why the student had chosen to turnin such an abused report.

He waved a hand at the enchanted quill that took notes forhim.  “Losing marks on presentation.  Filthy and it appears to have been pulled outof some rubbish bin.  Check for possibleplagiarism.  No name on the front cover. Tsk.”He shook his head and moved over to the second page.  It was blank except for a chicken scrawl of asentence in the middle of the page.

I am so bored herewith the Kirin Snore.

Bemusedly, he stared a little harder at the sentence beforea knock to the door made him turn annoyed sapphire blue eyes up to thedoor.  “Come in.”  He murmured gruffly, thinking it was one ofthe waiting staff.  “You may get rid ofit.”  Offhandedly, he pointed to theuntouched breakfast on the corner of his desk. His attention had returned to the theory paper in front of him.  Page after page, the same messageappeared.  Sometimes there was even arune traced in what looked like to be a brown substance.

“Professor Ravensdawn?”

Kael’deryn lifted his attention from the bewitching paper,letting his eyes fall on the young woman that stood at the door of hisoffice.  Disheveled hair.  Green eyes. Hollows beneath her eyes.  She appeared haggard and unlike any of thestudents that he taught.  

“Professor …”

Ilyea Lomeriel.  The name came to his mind so quickly he stoodup, startled.  The paper that he had beenlooking at suddenly began to bleed.  Infascination, he realized that the brown spots he had noted earlier were blood. Now,fresh crimson vitae stained the stack of papers, flooding his desk.  It took a life on its own as it made its waytowards him in such a quick movement that one might have thought there was afount of it below the desk.

“Professor.  I knowwhat you are.”  

Kael had stumbled back from the ever growing pool ofblood.  Animated and cognizant of him,the crimson sea was coming for him.  Ittouched the soft, supple leather of his boots and coiled around his feet interrifying tendrils.  They tightened and coiled around his ankles, growing thicker as they moved upwards over him,devouring him.

She watched his eyesdodge her, resisting the urge to scream. The blood was tangible, no longer liquid and nowhere near assluggish as it should have been.  Itcovered him completely, making the edges of his vision be tinged with red.  He made the mistake of gasping in that momentand the taste of blood invaded his mouth.

Fresh blood.  New blood. Warm blood.

He yelled out and the howl of wolves answered him.  Claws clipped the ground, moving towards themage that stood transfixed in the doorway. Her eyes were upon the creature that moved towards her with deadly andpowerful grace.

Do not be afraid.  He tried to say.  He spoke it as he would have any other timebut it came out in a series of growls and half-snarls.  Lips curled menacingly over sharp teeth.  He was worried for her.  For his friend, his confidante.

A confidante that hadforgotten who he was.

“Professor!”  Sheyelled, fear beginning to spike within her. It made her heart beat so much faster, pumping warmth throughout her sothat the pulse at her neck was suddenly wildly drawing his attention.  Both ears perked up, stalking dangerouslycloser to her until she deemed it necessary to run.

A scream echoed through the halls but she had ran.  Suddenly,she had become prey.  The hunter withinhim chased, hunted.  He was so much faster than she and hepounced upon her.  Another shriek lefther, fighting the creature that snarled over her.  Blood red eyes peered down at her with anger,snapping powerful jaws full of deadly teeth at her before his head was pulledback.

“ ‘ey! Snap out of it, birdie.” He was on his knees, a hand tangled tightly in his hair so that violet eyes were forced to look upwards into milky white eyes. “Don’t eat the staff, remember?” While Nasheera could not seehim in the normal way, she could see hisaura.  A small frown crossed over herfeatures as she stared down at him.  Outof the corner of his eye he saw a young, hassled woman scramble away from thetwo of them.  She did not even turn backas she ran down the hallway.

“Shame on you bird boy.” Theron blinked confusedly at Nasheera before a blinding pain in hisright hand made him look down at the rune that was etched into his skin.  He hugged the hand to his chest, biting backa small grunt of pain.  “You should notfight your nature.”  She snickered,patting the top of his head before she looked down at her own naked wrist.  “Do not eat the staff, okay?  I have a date and I do not like to be late.” She tapped her non-existent watch.

She left him kneeling in the hallway in nothing but a pairof shorts.  Recovering his wits, he tried to recall how he had gotten there. In slow horror, he realized that he had chased Ilyea in his dream.  Somehow, he had also given chase in real life.

It was not long after thatthe clock struck three.  The pain in his palm grew with each toll, spreading an agony through his limbs and bones that left him wishing for mercy.  The witching hour had arrived.

[ @thebuildingcacophony - thank you for the prompt / @cursed-delilah  - for slight mention]