Wolfgang

Sometimes a pack was born from blood; a hearth that gave warmth and comfort without hesitation, that kept you safe long before that was a thing you knew you needed.

Sometimes a pack was a group that smelled wrong and didn't want you; hard eyes, a cruel tongue, a painful rod everytime you misspoke; a last name based off where they found you and nothing more, and nothing but a frigid chill that seeped deep into your bones.

Sometimes a pack was a second chance; toothy grins and teasing nips, freedom crashing under a moonlit night, a warmth that came from bodies instead of hearths only to bring heat from spilled blood and scorching flames.

Sometimes... sometimes a pack was memories; sitting alone in a room lit only by a fireplace with only the past to keep you warm.

And sometimes a pack was was a cornered animal with razor sharp teeth and a sharper tongue; someone who refused to stay but never left, who'd chew their own leg off to break free, who was just as shattered and broken but in entirely different ways.

Someone who's jagged edges aligned rather than shredded, who's lack of warmth could walk unflinching through your inferno and come out unscathed, who didn't know safety was something that existed in this world.

---

"I thought drinking wolf blood was a death sentence for vampires."

"Who told you that?"

An uneasy shift, eyes darting for escape routes. "Read it in a book."

He hummed, closing his eyes and letting his head tilt back into the couch; they were different species but the action that had similar enough meaning to both, I'm willing to be vulnerable to you, or you're in control here. "Was it a human book?" He didn't have to open his eyes to feel Ashley's glare.

"The hell should I know!?"

"Fair enough," Wolfgang offered, unmoving; the scent of tense unease filling the room was disgusting, enough so he had to force himself not to wince. That would, undoubtedly, be taken the wrong way. "Probably human then."

"Doesn't mean it was wrong. It coulda been one of those..." a pause, "hunter books, or whatever."

He couldn't stop the wince that time; those self-righteous bastards. "They're not as knowledgeable as they think they are," he couldn't stop the growl in his voice, either.

Ash bit his lip, hard enough to break the skin but without drawing blood; it'd been too long, he didn't have anything left to bleed. He didn't know what to say that wouldn't be aimed to injure, so he didn't bother saying anything.

"Regardless, it's incorrect."

He hummed, biting a little harder on his lip before unclenching his jaw. "Sure."

"That particular rumor started in the late sixteenth-century, not by hunters but by..." Wolfgang didn't move his head to remove his offer, didn't open his eyes, but he did allow himself to bring a hand up to massage his temple; partially to fidget without fidgeting, partially a self-soothing motion to keep himself calm. Vampires didn't have the same spectrum for scent, but they were eerily astute at body language as well as blood flow; allowing his pulse to quicken, or to remove the offering of his throat, would be seen as regaining control. "Vampires," he continued with a steady, factual tone, " are said to garner the most benefits from human blood—that one is attributed to hunter text—that isn't the truth. Animal blood, be it from human or otherwise, carries the same weight. It's other beings, like lycanthropes, that offer much more. To the point of addiction, or so I've been told."

Ash squinted, jaw working as he considered it. Sounded like a load of shit, blood was blood was blood. Then again he'd never considered a different option, never knew there was a different option. "Then why would lie about it causing death?"

"Humans aren't the only ones plagued by greed."

"Greed..." Ash drawled, incredulous.

Ahh. In that moment, Wolfgang couldn't help but be reminded how young—old enough, his mind supplied, that it wouldn't be considered a different type of predatory—this vampire was. "If a particular type of blood was richer, offered longer lasting strength between feedings, and had the capacity to rejuvenate it's blood supply almost as fast as it was drained... would you seek to share it?"

"I killed some of my own kind to protect my source of sewer rats. " Ash knew the guy was still playing submissive (asshole) and wasn't looking, but that didn't keep the threatening grin off his face. "What's that tell you, huh?"

"That you're willing to do whatever it takes to survive," Wolfgang replied without missing a beat; noting the stench of tension was ripped apart by a flare of threat, only to dissolve into something close to reticent. It was still foul, but less so. "Did you steal those rats away, keep them in cages and shackles, inject them with enough poison to ensure they were docile but still able to produce what you wanted from them?"

The distinct smell of regret and hurt was one of Wolfgang's most despised scents, but it did say what wasn't going to be otherwise offered.

I didn't know.

I didn't have anyone to tell me.

I don't think they would have, even if the fuck who killed me had stuck around.

Did... were you...

Why are you telling me this?
I don't trust myself enough to not be like them.

I never asked for any of this, you know.

"So I'm not the first you've known?"

"No," a slight pause with a heavy temptation to make eye contact; it would be fine, technically, vampires found the action a sign of honesty. Wolves, however, felt it a challenge and he wouldn't give into the temptation. "Does that bother you?"

Ash scoffed, turning to glare at the fire just to point it at something; why the hell would that bother him? Nothing was owed, and he'd only been here a month anyway, so why would he care? "Don't be stupid."

Against better judgement, Wolfgang cracked open one eye just enough to match an expression with the scent before closing it again; the glare as if the fireplace had personally offended him did not match the subtle hint of possession. He refused to react knowing damn well Ash would bolt.

(Prideful, this one was. Help of any kind was a challenge to his ability to survive anything. Even in claimed territory, starving in the dead of winter where hunting would be a challenge for someone at full strength.

The still keening fox had earned a feeble attempt at a snarl and the saddest doorslam he'd ever seen.

The three rabbits, caged and very much alive, that were dumped silently in the room were better received. He didn't know if it was due to their spinal cords, and thus ability to fight back, were still intact or if it qas because he'd removed himself from the room immediately. He didn't receive an answer to the unasked question, but that worked only thrice before a snarled "I can take care of my damn self!" was spit at him.

... That'd been two weeks ago, now, and judging from the lack of blood in a too cold body, no successful hunting had taken place. To say Wolfgang was concerned would be an understatement, one that was getting harder and harder to disguise.)

"Did you..." Ash started to question before cutting himself off; his voice carried a little too much emotion in it to let himself finish.

"Let them feed?" Perhaps finishing the question was a bit pointed, definitely a gamble on whether or not that'd be the end of their evening, but either he took this chance or he slit a wrist open. This was less dramatic. "No. I was asked once in earnest and a few more in jest, but I declined."

Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "then why?"

Why me? Why am I different? What makes you think I won't consume your everything and tear you apart to suck the marrow from your bones?

There was an infinite amount of things he could say to that; you didn't even know, you won't ask now that you do, you're different, I'm haunted by the past and you make fun of my curtains instead, you said it was stupid for wolves to need packs like it doesn't matter, I like you, you're interesting.

Instead Wolfgang did the totally normal and rational wolf thing and launched himself across the room, just as fast as a vampire on a good day, too fast to track by one who was extremely malnourished, and slammed him into the ground; pinning him down with his entire weight, hands wrapped around Ashley's wrists and holding them down above his head, staring him down eye to eye shining with intent. "Because," growling, refusing to break eye contact even as he tilted his head enough to still offer an opening to his neck. "You're a stubborn prideful little shit who'd rather starve to death than ask for it. Like I'm shit on your boots."

"Get off of me!!" Ash sneered, teeth snapping as he attempted to rip his arms away, thrashing against the solid weight and firm grip; it was pointless, wasting energy he didn't have, even if the warmth was inviting and the alluring smell of rich blood was too much when this close. "Lemme go! Let me—"

"No."

"I'll rip your throat out if you don't move!"

For that, Wolfgang leaned even closer; admiring the flurry of emotions clogging his nose and the way Ashley's eyes became unfocused. "You can try."

"I will," he stated with conviction. "You... you got a death wish?"

"Do you?"

He didn't, not really, but... Ash wasn't going to admit how he'd flirting with death to sate his own pride. "No."

"Prove it then."

Ash could feel his fangs dropping, the thrill of a challenge winning the war against his desire to never submit. "Fine," he growled, a slight lisp caused by the additional teeth, far rougher than he'd want to acknowledge; without warning, with perfect accuracy to make his mark, he lurched upward and sank them deep into that offered neck.