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yanderedrabbles · 2 months ago

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Yandere Wendigo

Being out on the frontier ain't easy, 'specially not for a woman. And when a stranger wanders in from the plains, you know things ain't never gonna be easy again. 5.4k words. Originally published October 2022.

IT'S MORNING WHEN YOUR DADDY DRAGS A DEAD MAN INTO THE HOUSE.

You're curled up in front of the fire place, half dreamin' and half reading, when they stagger through the door. You notice your daddy first, breathing hard with the effort of keepin' the man up.

"Pa? What happened?"

Snow is thick on his shoulders and trapped in the brim of his old Stetson. But your daddy don't seem to care.

You get to your feet slowly. It's then that you notice the stranger.

A real tall fella, bent over like he ain't got much strength left in him. The winter was cruel to him and what's left of him is all bone, bone and hunger and aching need.

"Get the door to your room open."

Your daddy ain't askin'. That's his rancher voice - all hard steel. Your daddy is commanding you.

You stand still, too shocked to move. It ain't normal. Your daddy never talks to you like you're just one of the cowhands.

"But daddy, I don't want a dead man in my room."

You're whining, you know it. But you can't stop yourself. The stranger is covered in snow and bleeding too. You don't want him on top of your nice clean sheets, don't want a dying thing in the place where you sleep.

"Ain't dead yet. And he ain't gonna die, not if I can help it."

The stranger looks carved outta hunger and little else. Dark clothes and mean looking spurs, he ain't the type of fella you invite into your home.

"But why my room daddy?"

Your father is already dragging the man down the passage, his boots real loud against the wood floor. You follow behind them, your book still hanging from your fingers.

He doesn't wait for you to catch up. Just leans the fella against the wall for a second and opens the door to your room himself.

"But pa-"

Your daddy ain't hearing it. He spears you with a look to tan leather, a real mean glare that shuts you right up.

Your pa ain't ever cruel - not to you. You can't understand it. Why is he getting all worked up about a stranger? Ain't one man just as good as the next? Why go through all this trouble for someone you don't even know?

He drops the stranger on your bed and you flinch. When he speaks, his voice is still hard.

"He's half starved and half frozen. It don't look good and I want you to stay right here with him."

"Me? I ain't know a thing about him!"

Your daddy ignores you, dusting the snow off his hat 'fore putting it back on again. "Feed him and keep him warm, 'til I'm back with the surgeon. You hear me?"

You're staring at your daddy. He's gone mad, you're sure of it. The stranger is just another mouth to feed and you ain't got the food, not with winter already here.

Your daddy is tough and your daddy is smart - he tamed the west, made something out of the wild frontier. You don't like this starved man in your home, but if your daddy's asking you...

You nod slowly, shifting your eyes to the stranger.

"That's my girl." Your pa's voice is kinder and he grins at you. Then he's out the door.

In the silence, you finally take a good look at the man. He ain't much older than you really, but there's a hunger in his face you ain't got.

He's mighty handsome too, but it ain't...

It ain't a safe kind of beauty.

He's got plenty of scars but that ain't what makes you wary.

There's something cruel in him - in the lines 'round his eyes, in the set of his jaw. He's winter lean.

What was your daddy thinking? Leaving you to care for a wolf?

You take a deep breath. You can handle this. He's just a man, a man like any other. Ain't no kinder and he ain't no crueler.

But you ain't sure where to start. Lookin' at him is like lookin' straight into a grave. He ain't got no colour to him and his breathing is too slow to be normal.

Well, if you were sick and near dying, you'd wanna be comfortable, right? Get him all tucked away then get something for that hunger, that thirst.

His Stetson is covered with snow but underneath the ice, it's midnight dark. Slowly, you take it off. You're waiting for him to open his eyes, flinch, scream, anything.

But he's still as death and the hat comes off easy.

Underneath it, his hair is a dark blonde. Long enough to brush his jaw and still littered with snow.

The strands cling to his forehead and you smooth them away without thinking. His skin is real cold. Hell, he's probably frozen straight down to the bone.

You sigh quietly.

His gun belt has two revolvers, both of 'em a bright silver. They ain't just for looking pretty either - the metal is covered in fine scratches from years of use.

You reckon it ain't a good idea to sleep with guns on and you reach forward, your fingers brushing the buckle.

He grabs your wrist.

He moves fast, faster than you've ever seen a man move. You try to jerk away, but he still has some strength in him and his grip is iron. Tight enough to bruise.

"The hell you doin' girl?"

The stranger's voice is deep but rough with thirst, a coyote learnin' to speak. You're frozen - you ain't expected him to be so strong or so fast.

You swallow and slowly drag your eyes up to look at him.

"Takin' your belt off."

It's his eyes that you notice first. Yellow gold and dangerous, he looks like he wants to eat you alive. Coyote eyes your daddy calls 'em.

"Oh really?" His eyes rake you up and down, lingering without an ounce of shame. "And you haven't even asked my name yet."

He ain't a gentleman and there's something in the way he smiles that makes you go cold. It's staring straight down the barrel of a gun, the way he makes you freeze.

"I ain't got a chance to ask your name on account of all the near fainting."

He laughs. It's deep, like his voice. But it ain't a kind laugh. The stranger don't have no kindness in him at all.

"I 'spose that's fair."

He's still holding your wrists but his grip ain't as tight.

"It just ain't a polite thing, touching a man's guns while he's sleeping. You get that darlin'?"

He lies down again and finally let's you go. Talkin' ain't done him no favors and his breathin' is real shallow. His eyes are closed again and you stand up, all slow and cautious.

"I'll get you something to drink."

He don't respond and you hurry away, your back burning the whole time.

Water is everything out on the plains and with winter outside your door, even the well has started freezing. You don't wanna feed the stranger, don't wanna quench his thirst. What good has ever come from having a coyote at your table?

But your daddy told you to do something and you listen to your daddy, 'specially out here. You listen to him 'cause otherwise you'd be dead and gone long ago. Buried out on the prairie like so many others.

Life ain't easy out west and the land belongs more to ghosts than people.

When you return, the stranger's eyes are still closed. Most folks look harmless in their sleep, like their dreams are all they care 'bout. But that ain't true of him.

Being near him is being near a bear just as the snow melts. Any moment, he'll open his eyes and chew straight through your heart.

You clench your jaw and reach out your hand. Your fingers rest on his forehead, then his cheek. He's still icy to the touch and you ain't sure how he keeps breathing.

"That feels real good sweetheart." His voice is low.

He opens his eyes slowly, and when they settle on you, he manages a smile. His teeth are sharp and his lips are bloody, like he's been chewing at them for a real long time.

"I brought you some water."

He sits up slowly but his eyes never leave you.

"Much obliged darlin'."

He reaches for it and his fingers brush yours. You flinch - his touch is cold as the grave.

He drinks slow but his muscles are tight and you know it ain't easy. He's fighting with himself for every sip - the desperate, thirsty part of him just wants to gulp it all down. He would drink a river dry, if you gave him the chance.

When he's done, he looks at you and he smiles. A twisted thing that never touches his eyes.

"You got some food too?"

"I do."

But you ain't eager to share it with him. What was it the ranch hands always said? Don't feed the wolves unless you wanna feed them everything you've got?

Your daddy was wrong to bring him here - wrong to offer him hearth and home when the men were lean and the crows were watching.

You don't move and he watches you. In the quiet, your heart starts to race. What's going through his head, that makes his eyes so dark?

"You ain't much like your pa, you know that?"

His wolf eyes look straight through your soul. You fidget with your dress, tryin' your best to look uninterested.

"Your daddy is a better man than most. But you...well, I reckon he spoils you."

He licks his lips and you realize the bleeding is worse than you thought - he's teeth are red with it.

He continues, "Your daddy ain't taught you enough about the frontier."

Who does he think he is? Lyin' in your bed, drinkin' your water and lecturing you?

"You ain't know a damn thing me."

You're scared of him but you're bitter too, and anger is easier to stomach than fear.

You don't mean to snarl at him, but your blood is up and you ain't good with your temper. Your cheeks are red hot and your heart leaps right up your throat, 'til you can almost taste your own blood.

"Get your own damn food if you want it."

You turn to leave but his hand grabs the back of your dress and he yanks you toward him. He's strong and you ain't expecting it, ain't got any time to dig in your heels.

You land hard on the bed, right next to him.

"I ain't done talkin' sweetheart. Ain't your daddy ever taught you any manners?"

He's voice is real close to you ear and he has a growl to him that makes you freeze. He smells of juniper and pine, of icy cold winter.

"Let me go."

You try real hard to sound brave and mean, to sound like your pa when he wants something done. But you ain't your daddy and the stranger is too close and too cruel. Your voice is quiet and afraid, a girl begging a monster.

You hate yourself for it.

"Why would I do that?"

His other hand curls around the back of your neck and he leans toward you, 'til you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear.

"You've got a real temper in you girl."

His voice is rough with somethin' you can't recognize. Hate? Anger?

He ain't a man to be disrespected, ain't someone to take an insult.

You should apologize, say your rage got the better of you. Say you won't let it happen again and that you're real sorry. Ask him to please let you go.

But even in your fear, your pride won't bend. How dare he touch you so easily? You don't belong to him - he ain't got a damn say in how you behave.

You swing around, your nails coming up to scratch his face, dig his eyes out, make him bleed.

But you ain't learnt from the last time.

He's faster than you and he catches your hand in his. His grip is tight and he's skin is rough, calloused from years of gun slinging.

He's face is just next to yours and the dim morning sun casts him in shadow.

"Temper, temper."

He chides, his gravel voice rumbling through you.

You're going to bite his face off, just lean forward and-

And he's smiling.

Not a cruel smile neither. All gold eyes and real deep dimples.

He's dangerous, you know it in your bones. But his smile is all honey, all sunrise gold.

There ain't a lot of men out here, and none who smile at you like that. None who look you straight in the eyes like you're all they've ever wanted.

"Let me go, please."

You ask politely this time. He's too handsome and he's too close and Lord help you, your hearts gonna run right outta your rib cage.

He hums softly. "Ain't happenin' girly. I let you go and you're gonna run right out that door and leave me to freeze."

You want to get away from him, it's true. He's twisting your soul 'round his fingers 'til you ain't sure whether he wants to kiss you or eat you alive.

You shake your head. "I'll stoke the fire. My pa said to keep you warm."

He laughs, a real throaty laugh. "You always do what your daddy says?"

"Of course."

Why did it have to be him? If your daddy was going around saving strays, couldn't he have found someone else? Anyone else?

The stranger is a mystery and you hate it.

His grip tightens 'round your neck. "You ain't gonna run off?"

"Ain't that what I said?"

He's quiet for a real long time. You start thinking he ain't even considering it - he's just gonna keep you here with him 'til your daddy gets back.

And then he let's you go.

"Alright sweetheart, let's see you keep your word."

You stand up slowly, keeping your eyes on him the entire time.

Your room is the only bedroom with a fireplace and when you've put all the space you can between the two of you, you finally turn your back on him.

You stack the firewood carefully, feelin' his eyes on you the whole time.

"You ain't scared of me, are you?"

You flinch.

"Why would I be?"

Your voice comes out real calm. It's easier when you ain't looking in his eyes, when he ain't spearing you down with the heat of his stare.

"I ain't sure. I promise I'm real nice darlin'."

You make the mistake of looking at him. He's smiling at you with those sharp teeth and he don't seem nice at all.

You drop your eyes real fast. Your cheeks feel all tingly and you ain't sure why, ain't sure how he does this to you.

Ain't you 'sposed to like men who are kind?

Not this stranger, not a man made cruel from years of hard living. And still...

"You got a name stranger?'

"I do."

You wait but he doesn't say anything more. He's giving you a taste of your own medicine and you loathe him for it.

"How did my daddy find you?"

"Is that really the question you wanna ask me?"

His voice is better, less harsh. But that don't mean he's kind. Don't mean he's good.

You fiddle with the kindling, staying quiet.

" 'Cause I think what you really wanna know is 'why.' Why your daddy brought me here, why he wants to save me."

You turn to face him. How did he know? You ain't that easy to read. Hell, most of the ranch hands can't even tell if you're in a good mood, much less guess what you're thinking.

Who is this man?

He has you full attention again and he smiles, runs his hand through his blond hair.

" 'S what I was sayin' earlier. You ain't know enough about the plains. You can't survive alone out here. You've gotta take care of folks, gotta keep them fed when they need it. Your daddy knows that."

You raise a brow. "And what happens when you don't?"

He laughs but it's bitter as sand. "Hungry folk are dangerous folk."

But ain't he half starved already?

You turn back to the fireplace, finally striking a match. The fire catches quick and the light rims you in gold.

The stranger watches you - on your knees and haloed in warmth, you're a sight for sore eyes. All those long months on the plains, always tryin' to be one step ahead of death and here you are, a just reward for all his suffering.

You ain't got a clue how hard life is, ain't got any idea how the nights stretch long and lonely. But he'll teach you.

He'll make sure you learn the danger of hunger unsatisfied.

"Come sit with me." He says quietly.

You stand and shake your head slowly. Being in here is stifling, makes you wanna crawl right outta your skin.

Is it fear or want? You ain't sure.

"Come sit with me. I don't bite." He ain't smiling no more.

You swallow and cross your arms, fold a little into yourself. He ain't anything you're familiar with. Folks don't order you 'round - not when you're the boss' daughter.

"I don't trust you." You say simply.

He's sitting on the edge of your bed, his revolvers glinting in the cold winter sun. He's a desperado, you ain't got a doubt about it.

"What am I gonna do to you girl? I just want a little company."

He taps his fingers 'gainst his knee, watching you with sharp eyes.

"You ain't got a clue darlin'. Out there, folk shoot 'fore they offer conversation. Is it so bad that I wanna talk to you?"

"Then talk. I can hear you just fine from over here."

He shakes his head slowly. "You grudge me food and water. And now you won't even talk to me. You always this charmin' sweetheart?"

You bristle. He's the one who ain't got any manners at all, not you.

"Fine." You snarl and stalk forward, stopping right in front of him. "Happy now?"

A smile is crawling 'cross his bloody lips. "Still ain't working on that temper, are you darlin'?"

"I ain't your darling! And I ain't got a temper neither."

He reaches out slowly and his hands come to rest on your waist. He don't hold you tight but his fingers are long and they dig into you just a little.

You freeze, not expecting him to touch you. His voice is real low, just shy of a growl.

"Don't me want to call you my darlin'? You'd better stop me then."

You slap him.

You're quicker than him for once and you hit him hard enough to twist his head, the sound cracking through the quiet. Your palm stings and it runs straight up your arm.

He touches his cheek gingerly, his other hand getting real tight 'round you, clawing straight into your back.

Oh no.

You're done for. He's gonna grab one of his guns and end you right now, shoot you straight through the heart. Or maybe he'll do it with his bare hands, just choke the life outta you. Or -

He laughs.

"God damn girl, I bet you've got a mean right hook too."

He grins and rubs his cheek.

"You're a real hellcat, ain't you?"

His other hand is still curled 'round your waist and you step away, pull yourself free of him. You don't trust his good mood. Don't trust his smile when his eyes ain't got no joy in them.

He ain't eager to let you go but there ain't much he can do to stop you - nothing gentle at least.

You've had enough of him - of his entitlement and his anger, of his values that mean nothing to you. You spin on your heel and aim for the door.

"I wish he left you outside to starve."

You ain't gotta share a damn thing with him. Who cares if he dies? What's yours is yours. You ain't gotta give him food or shelter or kindness. Ain't owe him.

Your daddy was wrong. You gotta look out for yourself first.

"Sweetheart I-"

You leave 'fore he can finish, shutting the door and leaning against it. Just tryin' to slow your heart.

He ain't a pious man and he ain't thinking holy thoughts 'bout you.

The first thing you notice when you turn around is the dimness. The fires burnt out, sure. But the sun should be shining through the glass.

You walk into the living room and stare out the big bay windows, your mouth fallin' open.

The clouds are thick and dark, real storm clouds blowing in from the plains. And the wind has gotten stronger too. You watch it kicking up puffs of snow and hurling it past the glass.

A blizzards blowing in, you're sure of it.

But it's movin' fast, faster than you thought possible. When the stranger came in, there weren't even a breeze.

God, is your daddy gonna be okay? Maybe he's reached town already. Maybe him and the doc are drinking together and waitin' for the storm to pass. Your daddy's tough - he'll be fine. Right?

"You okay darlin'?"

You whirl around, your heart in your throat.

The passage behind you is real dark and you can just kinda see the stranger, a blurry silhouette. He's standing strange and his arms are real long looking. Has he always been that tall?

"I'm...fine."

There's something 'bout his voice you don't like.

Somethin' in it that makes you take a step back. And then another and another, 'til you're pressed right against the window sill. It digs into your back and the chill goes straight down to your spine, dulls its teeth on your marrow.

"What I tell you 'bout leavin' while I'm talking?"

You can just make out his yellow eyes. They're catching the light and glinting like an animal's.

He continues, "You're real slow to learn, ain't you?"

You frown, your heart stuttering inside you.

"No. 'Course not."

He laughs and it runs down your neck like ice.

"You're really somethin', you know that y/n?"

When did he learn your name? You sure ain't told him.

His voice is low but it has winter's bite to it. He talks to you like cowpokes talk to girls after a real long time out in the plains - all hunger and need.

"You're just the kinda girl I like. Selfish, greedy, gotta learn her place."

His eyes trace your body and he smiles at you, that mocking half smile that ain't got an ounce of kindness in it.

"Now come 'ere."

He lunges forward but you're ready for it and you dive outta the way. You land hard on your knees but you scramble up, your blood screamin' in your ears.

Gotta get a weapon or somethin' - he's still stronger than you, even if he's half starved.

Your daddy keeps a Henry rifle 'bove the fire place and you aim for it, movin' fast.

But the stranger ain't no ordinary man. He grabs you from behind and you both go crashing down.

His body is pressed right up against you and he's cold as ice.

"That blizzards keepin' you right here darlin, ain't no running."

His voice ain't human. It's the cracking of bone, the tearing of flesh, the hound dog howling. His voice is hunger and nothin' else.

His hands are pressed into the floor next to your waist and his teeth brush your ear. Even starving, he's lean with muscle and you can feel the hardness under his skin.

His breath is cold and it smells of wintergreen.

He's gonna bite straight through your throat. Rip you apart. Have your heart right between his teeth.

But you ain't dying today.

You snarl and try to buck him off, but he doesn't budge. His weight is pressing you into the floor and you can't take a full breath.

Your ribs feel like they're 'bout to snap inwards, shards of your own bone driving straight through your heart.

You struggle under him and he laughs.

"Keep doin' that sweetheart. I love feelin' you squirm."

His voice is husky and it ain't like anything you've heard before.

The dead fire is right next to you and the embers are still hot, still have some burning red streaking through them.

You reach out and grab one. It's scalds your palm and your whole hand is nothing but white hot pain. But you ain't gonna let that stop you.

You twist around and press the burning ember right in his face.

He shrieks like an animal and leaps back, light on his feet like he don't weigh a thing.

"Fucking hurts." His voice is a hiss, a rattlesnake under your skin.

You scramble up and yank the rifle down, swinging around with your finger on the trigger.

The stranger is in front of you and there ain't nothin' human left in him. He's crouched down on the floor and his limbs are too long - sticking out like an insect's. He ain't got no lips neither. Just ragged, bloody skin like he's eaten straight through them.

Corpse pale and cold as the frost, the stranger in your home was always a dead man.

His teeth are sharp and long and Lord help you, he has so many teeth.

He lunges toward you.

He's fast, faster than anything alive. But you ain't done fighting yet.

His body is in the air when you fire the first shot. The bullet hits him straight in the head and knocks him back.

Black blood sprays across the floor, across the furniture, across your face.

He crashes into the dining table, his spine shattering against the table legs.

You don't wait to check if he's still alive.

You aim for his chest and empty your daddy's rifle. Put bullet after bullet straight into his heart. The sound is thunder and when the firing stops, your ears are ringing.

His blood pools around him, thick as oil. The wendigo is still.

The wendigo is dead.

The blizzard is startin' in earnest now and the snow outside the windows is coming thick and fast. Your shoulder aches from the rifle's recoil and you can't get the shaking outta your fingers. You sink down to your knees, your breath ragged.

They were just 'sposed to be stories.

You keep your eyes on its body, scared of even blinking.

With a heart of ice, it's born in the cold, lean months.

The wendigo devours.

The wendigo is ever hungry.

But the wendigo is dead.

You wait a real long time. Until you heart ain't as loud and the blizzard rages, until the whole house is freezing. The wind screams and the wendigo doesn't move.

You're safe.

You close you eyes. You let yourself breathe. The gun slinger is dead and he ain't gonna hurt you, ain't gonna touch you.

You were right - ain't nothing good ever comes of strangers at your table.

The winter grows angry, but you're safe and you're warm. And the stranger ain't ever gonna have you. You smile. You open your eyes.

He's gone.

He was dead and now he's gone.

You jump to your feet, holding the rifle like an axe. The quiet stretches around you, nothin' but your own breathing to break it.

Where is he?

You keep perfectly still, squinting into the dark corners of the room. The light is scarce and every shadow hides him.

"You ain't getting away from me sweetheart."

You whirl around but he's quick as a cat. He grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks you toward him.

He ain't gentle and he shakes you 'til your jaws rattling. Holds you like a kitten.

He's pressed up behind you and he dips his head low, 'til his lips are right above your pulse.

"So selfish but so warm..."

You scream, try to pull away. But he ain't movin' and all you do is rip some of your own hair out.

He laughs, laughs deep and cold.

"You gotta start listenin' sweetheart. What I just say 'bout getting away?"

He uses your hair like a leash and tosses you straight across the room.

The floor hits you hard and knocks the air clean outta you. Pain spikes white hot right through your ribs.

He's stronger than any man has the right to be. He threw you clear across the room without even tryin'.

He don't wait for you to get up neither. He just grabs your jaw and drags you to your knees. His fingers dig into your cheeks.

He's human again but that ain't a kindness.

His nails - his claws - leave bloody scratches 'cross your skin.

You look up and he's staring down at you with those strange, hungry eyes.

Coyote gold. Wolf gold. Killer gold.

His pupils are blown out wide, 'till they're all black rimmed in honey. He's staring at you and there ain't nothin' but want in him.

"Your daddy's a good man. He knows the way of the west. But you..."

He smiles that sardonic grin of his. Your bullets ain't left a hole but blood is running down from his hairline. It creeps down into his mouth and his smile is red and cruel.

"You need to learn a lesson girl."

He pulls you up and you scream. You claw at him, dig your nails in deep 'til your fingers ache.

He holds you like a prize and his eyes drop to your lips. And then lower still.

You're crying, tears on your tongue bitter as poison. It ain't fair. You just wanted to keep yourself safe and fed and warm. You shouldn't be punished for it.

He runs a thumb across your cheek but there ain't no kindness in it.

"Awww, am I scaring you darlin'?"

He said your daddy was a smart man, a kind man.

Would he have let you go? If you were generous or selfless or good?

He smells of the forest and your head is swimmin' with it. His thumb traces the outline of your lips and his smile is all teeth. He'll shatter your bones like glass if he wants.

He presses his lips against your cheek and whispers to you, his voice cruel as the snow.

"I'll be gentle sweetheart. I promise."

It's then that you realize.

A man's got more than one kind of hunger.

#Dug this out of the vault chat #Has it really been over two years since I wrote this?#Style change is crazy #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere drabbles #reader insert #x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x you #yandere x darling #Yandere Cowboy #Yandere wendigo

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brokenpieces-72 · 1 year ago

Text

Monster!141 x wendigo/jackalope reader

Continuation of this one

Sizes

Inspired by @bluegiragi hybrid au and @diejager Only Human Series

Over time you get to see the two newcomers at work and while everyone was busy being possessive and protective over Hunter, you were more curious. However because the team was equally protective over you -seeing you as their young when you’re human- it’s a bit like watching a kid as they play in a non child proof area.

Gaz is watching over both you and Hunter constantly, sticking close to see what you guys are up to while Horangi or König is in the room. Alejandro and Rudy feel like your uncles as they make sure to stop and ask how you are in the hallway, regardless if the KorTac members are nearby. Soap continues his older brother role and has yet to bring up his family getting legal custody over you. The time isn’t right, and he needs to talk to you about it more. His constant presence while sparring is him showing off, like, “this is my pup, proceed with caution”.

You on the other hand, from the teams perspective it’s like watching a kid play on an empty road, they keep an eye on you, but let you do your thing. And your “thing” is watching KorTac. Horangi’s haetae form is different from the two shifters you’re most familiar with, because while it’s mostly tiger there are features you don’t expect. When he finishes a round of sparring with Alejandro you ask him what exactly he is and then ask if you can spar with him next. Alejandro isn’t surprised by your request. He chuckles when Horangi gives you a look.

“You’re sure you want to do that?”

“She’s sure hombre, get back on the mat.” Alejandro says, crossing his arms. Horangi doesn’t like taking orders but gets up and indulges you. He’s actually thrown off by your agility as your strikes move pretty quickly even for him. At first all he does it guard but he soon catches your fist, spins you around and pulls you on to the mat. It knocks the wind out of you, it’s so fast. Alejandro is about to get confrontational when you start laughing.

“That was fun.” You say getting the air back in. Yes you have a tendency to giggle when you go down in training, and smile when you’re exhausted. Horangi can’t help but smile a little before helping you up.

“Can you show me how to do that?” You ask. He may not have signed up for this, but screw it teaching you some tricks couldn’t hurt.

“Colonel, you going to assist?” Horangi taunts to Alejandro.

König watches you from afar for the most part. It isn’t until a tracking session with Rudy and Gaz that he sees you’re not some innocent jackalope who could be snatched up in seconds. The terrain is one you’re used to at this point, with plenty of large trees, small cliffs, and loose ground. There were even some old ruins of previous cabins and shelters nearby which you knew would make for excellent cover.

König is nervous about shifting around you too, worried he might scare you and with two protective hybrids nearby, his mind goes to worst case scenario.

“Do you want me to shift first or do you want to find me as a human?” You ask. König’s thinking comes to a halt hearing you say that, while Gaz and Rudy both look at him waiting for an answer. He didn’t realize you were the one they were tracking. At first he thought he would be the target, larger, easier to find, less stealth. But you?Gaz or Rudy he could expect, but you? You were small sure but not that small. He scratches the back of his head.

“Sh-shifted.” He answers. At least it gives you more of a fighting chance. Then he sees you shift. As a human you’re half his size, looking like a kid next to him but shifted, you’re almost the same size as his Percht form, if only a little smaller. König looks up at you in awe and surprise. You tilt your head at him, while Gaz gets his attention with a pat on his back.

“Come on big guy. Eyes up.” Gaz says teasingly.

“Ve a esconderte, cabo.” Rudy orders and you run off. Despite your size you move quickly, climbs and jumping from tree to tree and ducking behind bushes and over growth, your form fading into the thick forestry. All while moving softly like you’re a part of breeze.

“Geist.” König said. Rudy and Gaz looked at him.

“Say again?” Gaz asked. König realized he had said it out loud.

“Ah…she makes me think of an earth geist.” König said.

The other two hybrids contemplated the idea. Not a bad call sign.

“You’ll have to tell her when you find her.” Rudolfo comments.

“If we find her.” Gaz adds.

They got to work after half an hour, with Gaz sending you a warning of your pursuers. You change the channel on your radio so they couldn’t use it to locate you not that they would. The radios work on one channel so they can find each other better and still be able to communicate over the distance. If they couldn’t find you or there was an emergency the channel would switch accordingly.

König joins alongside Rudy and the cadejos.

“Not changing? Your choice.” Rudy commented.

“I shift when I need to. And I don’t need it for training. I find it exhausting after some time.” König says.

“Gaz how copy.” Rudy radios.

“Still no visual. She’s going hard on this one.” Gaz responds.

“She’s getting better.” Rudy says.

“You usually track children?” König asks. Rudy gives him a look, and König notices how poorly he phrased his question. “Her I mean…o-or uh…apologies.”

Rudy pats him on the shoulder. “Since she became more comfortable around us, si. She became the one we tracked. A good tracker herself but we found she was better at hiding.”

“I see.” König says. There’s a slight jealousy wishing it was as easy for him to hide.

Rudy continues requesting visual updates from Gaz who has little luck.

“I don’t like it but you two may need to split up, cover more ground.” He suggests.

“Copy. The cadejos have different directions.”

“She’s getting smarter.” Gaz comments as he lands to try and look around for you. Rudolfo and König split off searching for you. König thinks for a moment after going for an hour by himself.

“Gaz, any visual?” He asks.

“Negative. At this rate we’ll have to trap her.” Gaz admitted.

“How far can she be ahead of us?” König asks.

“Say about 1 click.”

As if on cue he hears clicking, and his fight or flight reflexes kick in.

“König going dark.” Gaz hears. He can’t get König to respond to him and he starts getting nervous. Training exersices are taken seriously but this may have gone too far. Gaz flies lower to find Rudy, and thankfully he does easily enough. Before he can say anything they both hear loud screeches.

They take towards the noise with the cadejos running up ahead and find you wrestling with a Percht. You’re staying calm, but the Percht is raging at you. It’s only backing off to build up its next strike at you, scratching at your exposed muscles and gnawing at the bark of your limbs. The veil over the monsters face tells you who it is, and all you can do is hold your own. You can smell Gaz and Rudolfo close by and so can König. Your priority is to keep the other two safe. When König tries to turn around and go for them, they both move, taking cover just before König sees them. You move too, and brutally. You’re tired from the hard hits König has dealt, but Kyle and Rudolfo are your friends. Doesn’t matter who it was, you’re ready to defend and protect them the same as they’ve protected and helped you. As the Percht turns away you yank it back by the shoulder. You ram into him, getting your antlers under him and rear up, sending him tumbling behind you. You screech at it. A warning to back off and a challenge to try again. It goes for you and you lock him against you, trying to scratch at its neck, hoping it would get the hint. When König is shifted, he doesn’t have control, his only mindset is kill. As you toss him he tosses you. You claw him he claws you. But if it bites you bite back.

His attacks only continue to get violent even when you try to be defensive. The cadejos try to slow him down, acting as distractions or flanking it with their own bites but it’s proving fruitless. Rudy’s head is starting to ache from it, and Gaz takes to air throwing hardened feathers as projectiles. The thing just screams loud, making everyone’s ears hurt and ring, before you whack him hard, shutting him up. You grip him by the skull tearing off the veil and twisting his neck until the rest of his body follows, getting on top of him. You hold his jaw closed and force him to look at you before screeching yourself, trying to keep him still. If fighting wasn’t going to work, then exhausting him would have to do.

Gaz dives for Rudolfo who is holding his head behind a tree, and lifting him to higher ground. You struggle to keep the Percht still but its movements become fewer and weaker. It doesn’t matter though, you keep him still and don’t loosen until you see dark whisps coming off of him as he passes out beneath you, returning to his human form and you turn to yours. You’re still on top of him when you check his pulse, both of your clothes and gear basically shredded to shit. But you don’t care, panting on top of a passed out König. Gaz and Rudolfo come back down to help you up and help König back to base, with Gaz calling for Hunter to be prepped.

König of course is in a lot of shit because of this. Horangi is being questioned about his hybrid partner and why he would do that. You didn’t encounter König until after he had shifted and you repeated this multiple times that you don’t know what happened. Horangi could only try to side with you as he explained that König wouldn’t shift on a training run. Rudolfo being a the good man he is, mentions König had said the same while they were together.

Despite him giving you multiple injuries you’re still worried about him, and stay by him while he’s resting. Soap is worried about you and the injuries you sustained. Mending broken bones and self healing were a benefit but your healing factors were not instant. Hunter tends to him when she can and makes sure you keep eating.

When König wakes, Horangi tells you right away, and drop whatever you’re doing to go see him. When he sees you though he looks ashamed. He knows what happened and he can’t explain it. He barely remembers shifting. He does remember hurting you though. You insist you’re okay and give him a half a smile. Gaz and Rudolfo aren’t far behind, wanting to check in on König as well. The guy had proven to be a strong asset and your insistence on his character made it hard to argue.

He rests for a couple more days with you checking in on him and seeing how he’s doing. At one point you come over and sit with him and ask why he doesn’t shift. When he mentions losing control and becoming a mindless rampager you think about the night you lost control.

“I become nothing but a monster.” He says, starting to put a new veil on.

“I do too.” He stops and looks at you.

“But you did not.”

“But I have. I’ve lost control and gone on violent binges. I’ve been uncontrolled before…it’s normal.”

There is silence between you two, and he wonders.

“May I see the wendigo? P-please?” He asks. You smile. You enjoy showing people, and shift carefully in the room, not wanting to break something. You lower yourself to all fours, and look at him curiously. König is nervous but hesitantly reaches out to touch your head, with you meeting it halfway. You look back at him while he examines you with his eyes. You make soft clicking noises.

“You really are an earth spirit.” He comments and you make an odd sort of cooing sound mixed with happy clicks. For the first time you see König give a small smile. It’s one you don’t see often, friendly and soft.

König gives his own report saying something had attacked him during their training session, but he was unfortunate enough to not see who or what. Price gives him a warning to be more careful, but you offer to help König train and get more used to the Percht.

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