Curse of the Damned

[WickedWitch]

​

With his lack of elegance further complemented by the wounds dealt to his side, his hind legs awkwardly fumble underneath him when he tumbles ungraciously into the muddy forest grounds. Harley's midnight fur is heavily gunked in mud and the usually soft fur is matted into knots of dried blood, in most cases he would take a break. To let the rough padding of his tongue soothe out the annoying patches and even somewhat clean the raw and open wounds, yet the sun has already begun it's path below the horizon. The thickets of trees not helping with his unbearable fear and even alert cautiousness of the forest at night, he slowly pads his way over to the cold stream of water before his bruised paws. He's given a very short moment to breathe and think, as he relentlessly slurps the cool liquid into the roughness of his mouth. 'Straight, past the stream, and into Sage's Gate..' The repetition almost seems to echo through his entire soul, refusing to even quiet down in the few scarce moments where he'd tried to sleep.

He doesn't know why his thoughts had hit an almost unreachable point on instability, he supposed it was the massive heavy injury he had suffered only a few days ago when he had happened upon a moving group of hunters. In very few cases would Harley have ever been outwitted by a bunch of blood-thirsty hunters, yet his mind had already been in the reoccurring state of immobile and unwilling to properly function when needed. So it is not with great surprise of his current state, with a small shake of his fur to remove any moisture from the water that had refused to drip back into the stream, he lifts his snout into the air.

Carefully noting the smell of forest musk and dirt, and becoming increasingly aware of the smells that seemed even the slightest off putting. He needed to move, the pitifully unwavering task lay before his soul seemed to boost him in the moment where his head threatened to explode and the exhausted slumping in his muscles almost dragged him into the muddy ground beneath him. This wasn't about him, it never was about him, failure to complete the task could end up with a catastrophic on a global scale and mass.. It's with a slight amount of adamance that he heaves his body over the water, careful not to stretch the wounds that had somewhat begun healing. His lungs burn and sting in protest, an odd rattling sound reverberating out of his chest with every strained breath for air. Harley was not one that was new ro the ways of injury, what he was new to, was the foreign poison pumping through his veins, his blood.

Whatever was happening to him, no to them, seemed to be almost manipulating their own blood into an impenetrable weapon against their own bodies.. It seemed to be working incredibly slower on Harley, it had started more than a week ago, and still he was relatively mobile and most importantly alive. He could still horribly remember the vivid images of the piles and piles of dead corpses that greeted him at almost every pack he entered, this wasn't some type of accident, or a bad case of rotten meat. This was murder, genocide. And aimed directly at all werewolves..

__________________​

He resumes his journey after that, but even he can -though without the usual resistance - that his steps had begun to appear slower, and the dull throbbing in the open wound seemed to be spreading throughout the rest of his body. every step felt like walking on lit coal, licking unpleasantly hot up the entirety of his being. Leaving him painting, dizzy, and in the oddest state of alive and dead. Like his soul was just barely hovering over the heavy spikes of death that threatened his life, even then, Harley refuses to give up. No matter how much it hurts, and no matter how much he physically aches to just let go. Let what was ultimately always waiting for him, just take him. Death would unceasingly be far more pleasant than the dead but alive state he was in currently, his paws thud against the damp ground. His ears twitch slightly at the sharp and fast sounds of what only an automobile or something of the sorts could make, he must be getting close to a road.

Harley absentmindedly muses, his eyes gradually tilting into a half-lidded squint, the forest green of his eyes barely creating a thin line around the overblow pupils. And it is with such a flash of suddeness that he realizes his steps have stuttered, and it takes even quicker for his heavy weight to thump so loudly against the forest grounds. No, no, get up, we have to get up, get up-. The mantra is deafeningly loud only to be further complemented by an ear piercing ringing, and it is the searing pain that splits through his head, that has the midnight colored lashes of his fluttering close. Harley's conscious beating in vain inside his brain, even when he takes one last shallow breath before plunging into the icy cold walls of his brain.

 

[FlourPower]

The sky is orange when Eden steps outside.

She'd worked until almost sundown again, getting caught up in paperwork and medicine inventory even though her last client was over an hour ago. Eden sighs as she locks the front door to the clinic. Her new year's resolution was to get better at work life balance. So far, it was going poorly. Eden climbs into her jeep and pulls out of the empty parking lot, glancing at Helping Paws in her rearview mirror. Ever since she'd taken over her aunt's veterinary practice two years ago, she'd had time for little else. Eden didn't mind. This was her dream job, even if the long hours were exhausting at times. Maybe she'd ask her Aunt Viringa to take over some of her shifts for a while.

Eden brakes at the stop sign at the end of the road. She's ready to go straight home and collapse into bed. 'I should visit the preserve'. The thought comes unbidden. Last month, Eden got a call about a fox in the nearby forest who had been snared in an illegal hunting trap. Some hunters had stumbled across the poor animal and Eden had needed to amputate it's foot. A week later another animal had been injured by a similar snare. This time a rabbit. The park rangers were still looking for the poachers, but lack of funding meant they were understaffed. The could never cover the whole forest daily, let alone the several surrounding nature reserves. So Eden had taken to patrolling on her own every few nights, looking for injured animals.

She'd just visited on Monday, though. Going again tonight was overkill. Besides, she had been working since 8 am and was dead on her feet. Except... Eden glances up at the sky, darkening like a bruise. Her car is still sitting at the stop sign. Home is straight ahead The forest is to the right. 'I have a bad feeling about tonight.' With a groan, Eden put on her blinker.


------------------------------------

The sounds of the forest greet Eden as she steps out of her car and she smiles, some of the tension in her shoulders unspooling. The smell of soil and the wind on her face reminding her of home. Well, without the farm smell of hay and chickens. Eden follows the main for only two minutes before wandering off into to forest. No poacher is going to set traps on a hiking trail. She can hear the distant sounds of the road behind her as she listens for the sound of anything moving in the underbrush. If the poachers are out here, she'd hate to be mistaken for a deer and end up in someone's crosshairs.

Eden stops suddenly, listening hard. There-- she can hear footsteps. Slow, labored ones. They don't have the grace of a wild animal, but they're not as loud as she'd expect from a fully grown human. Slowly, quietly as she can, Eden follows the noise. She thinks she can hear whatever or whoever it is just up ahead. Suddenly, the steps stop. There's a dull thud of something hitting the Earth. Forgetting her caution, Eden bursts into the clearing. "Oh--" she breathes, horrified when she sees what was making the sound.

It's a wolf-- one of the many that roam the forest-- laying collapsed on the ground. It's dark fur, which would normally be so beautiful, is stained with dirt and blood. When Eden drops to her knees by it's side, she sees the wounds the blood came from. "My God," she whispers, heart, constricting. "Poor thing." She needs to call the park rangers and one of her employees to help her move the animal. She needs to get the sedatives and the first aid supplies out of her car. But she can't move, mesmerized by the sluggish breathing of the injured wolf and afraid of what will happen if she leaves it. "What happened to you?"

 

[WickedWitch]

Dying, or what he can only guess is dying, is less painful than he thought. There was a sharp prick of pain behind his nape and flutter of a sharp jolt in his head, but otherwise it was a thousand times better than he thought. It almost felt as if though he had been submerged into the ocean, where the temperature was relentlessly cold, biting into every orifice of his body. Until the only thing Harley felt was cold, his mind numbed out and without the proper functions was unable to properly concoct any coherent thoughts. But still, it didn't hurt.. The world around him was painted in a dark blue abyss, and only the mellow waves traveled through his ears. Yet faintly in the distant -not entirely sure what way was the distant- he could very scarcely hear the soft thumping of a heartbeat, not his. His was low and increasingly slow, barely audible to him even, and it drummed so lazily against the frontal of his broken ribcage that the misconception that he may be dead was understandable..

No, this heartbeat was different, it was faster a common sign of someone not on the brink of death. If it wasn't his, it was someone else's, something else's. And like a hand aggressively reaching into the space where his consciousness floated, he was yanked from the faltering abyss and back into the spine-clenching pain of being alive. Harley's vision scatters with black dots that seem to threaten the entirety of his vision, and the cold fear bites so harshly down into his soul that he can't stop the involuntary growl that rumbles out of his chest. It's aggressive, one that screamed out the anguish and fear he was suffering from. Harley attempted to move, but there was only the barely visible twitch of his paw and a small stirring at the bottom of his stomach. A whine keens it's way out of his throat, he was confused, and hurt, and scared. And he couldn't see! Another pitiful whine clenches from him, and followed so closely after is jolted through his body -a frightening downpour of growls and whines. Involuntarily stealing away what lit wisps of oxygen that was formerly able to reach his lungs, leaving him choking on his own strange cries of pain.

 

[FlourPower]

The wolf let out a pained whine and Eden rocked back on her heels, scrambling for her phone. She needed to call her aunt. Except, the phone rang and rang and no one picked up. Calling her other two employees also proved futile. For a moment, panic threatened to overwhelm Eden. She dug her fingers into her palms, grounding herself. She was a vet and caring for injured animals was her job. She could do this. "Stay here, okay?" Eden whispered to the wolf, though it couldn't understand her. She stood up and ran toward her car. The first thing she needed to do was drive it as close to the wolf as possible.

Eden drove carefully down the narrow walking path, branches, and rocks rocking the bottom of her car. She quietly thanked whatever god was listening that she'd chosen an all-terrain vehicle. She parked as close to the wolf as she could before throwing open the back of her trunk. She folded down the back seats so there would be more room for the wolf. Then Eden grabbed her duffle bag of vet supplies and an animal stretcher. When she returned to her patient, the first thing Eden did was measure out a dose of Diazepam. It would help dull some of the pain and hopefully keep the animal docile enough that it wouldn't bite her when it came to. Trying to estimate how much the large wolf weighed, Eden settled on giving him 12 milligrams. Quickly, she pinched the skin at the base of the wolf's neck and delivered the shot. With all of its injuries, she hoped it wouldn't feel the needle.

"Okay, darling," Eden said, voice low and calm. "I need to get you onto this stretcher. Please don't attack me." As quickly as she could, watching the wolf for signs of aggression, Eden was able to wedge the stretcher under the animal and buckle him in. Tucking her bag over her shoulder, she used the strap on the stretcher to wheel the wolf back to her car before lifting the stretcher in the backseat. Her arm muscles were burning by the time she finished. Eden needed to get the wolf to the clinic as soon as possible so she could give it a transfusion. As she drove, breaking probably every traffic law in the city, Eden dialed a friend of her's at a local wildlife rehabilitation center. To her relief, he picked up almost immediately. "Hi Micheal, it's me. I need an emergency blood transfusion for a wolf. Do you have any universal donors?"

 

[WickedWitch]

The pained whines of his seem to veer their way into the silent crevices of his mind, a soft whisper comes from somewhere in the part of his vision covered in a faltering black that seems to dance teasingly through his vision. The words are obscured, sounding muffled and incoherent. Yet it seems to pleasantly drag it's comforting claws through his pain-stricken body, the voice giving an unneeded plunge into nostalgia. What feels like seconds tick by, time seeming to be oddly placed , and there's the rumble of a vehicle closer than it's supposed to be. But his body is limp and refusing to listen to any of Harley's frantic commands, with an ice cold realization, he jolts. Right, he dazedly muses, hunters.. The word seems to be slurred through his dopey mind, one not even properly functionable to notice the soft prick at his neck.

But that soft reassuring voice is back, and it happily tickles at his ear, and a less painful whine squeezes out of his throat. It's pleasant, and it so gleefully reminds of his mother, soft and warm. A feeling that helps to numb out the growing pain, keeping him stuck in a state of dreaming and awake. A sharp prick spreads through his brain, and his vision is so suddenly swallowed by a black abyss.

_________​

The thickets of trees blur by him, soft grass padding the ground underneath him, and somewhat exhausted air puffs warmly into the cold winter air. His midnight colored fur is painted in a thin layer of snow and mud, there's a pair of heavy steps behind him. But he can't find himself in any type of worry, even at the length away from the steps behind him, he can make out the distinct smell of his mother and older brother, cinnamon and cloves. The reassuring scents softly lulling him into a slower pace, letting the strain in his muscles rest.

_________​

There's movement again, and with such a distant thought, he notices that it's him that's moving. Only managing a small shuffle of his frontal paws as a sign that he was still relatively awake and alive. His nose scrunches up slightly, somewhat confused at the sudden scent of medical supplies and someone else. It reminds him of the infirmary, a place where he enjoyed being, but never allowed to visit. Because his father didn't raise him to need the unwelcome help of a pack doctor, he was taught to lick his wounds and move on, they'd always eventually heal. Another prick, and he's unwillingly slumping into the stretcher beneath him and back into the painful memories created by his mind.

_________​

A soft hand brushes against the feverishly hot front of his forehead, through the misty haze of what he can only guess is the result of the poison pumping through his veins. "Ma-" His tongue croons, eyes too heavy to open wider than a half-lidded look. Faintly noting the soft brush of her hair tickling his exposed arm, her face is stoic and void of any emotions. Right, he thinks solemnly, he didn't have a family anymore. And the image before falls into nothing, the room slowly being devoured by a black smoke. So thick that it seemed to squeeze tightly around his throat, it even seemed to be yelling at him. "Freak! Abomination!" Echoes mindlessly through his souk, bouncing relentlessly through his head until the words have permanently engraved into him. Harley twitches his hand, restless, everything hurts but he needs to leave. He needs to leave wherever this was, but the tight grip drags him down into black goo and deeper into the mazes of his brain. Locking him in a cage built out of his own memories .

 

[FlourPower]

Eden's passenger was mostly unresponsive on the drive. He-- as Eden had observed while loading him on the stretcher-- had barely moved since she found him. It was a relief in that it made him easier to treat, but worrying in that his condition was bad enough to override his basic survival instincts. After confirming that Michael was on his way to the clinic with the blood, Eden called the National Foresty service and informed them that she was treating an injured wolf that she assumed to be a victim of poachers.

Michael was already waiting for her at the clinic in his signature round glasses and sweater set. He blanched when he saw the extent of the injuries. Together, they carried the wolf out of Eden's Jeep and up onto the examination table. Eden's mind was laser-focused. She set about cleaning and stitching up the wounds while Michael hooked the wolf up to a blood IV. When she washed away the blood, Eden was horrified to find older scars beneath it. While she waited for the transfusion to finish, Eden also gave him a fluid shot to the scruff of his neck.

"His heart rate is still really erratic," Eden said with a frown. "I'm going to give him a stomach pump just in case." It wasn't unusual for poachers seeking pelts to poison animals, making them easier to kill. When she'd done everything she could, Eden rested her forehead on the cool surface of a medicine cabinet. Her long day was only getting longer. "I'll take him back to the Refuge tonight. We can minimize his contact with humans and release him back when he's fully healed," Michael told her, rubbing her shoulders soothingly. He must have been able to see the exhaustion on her face. Eden turned and glanced at the wolf, watching it's breathing which had steadied somewhat since she'd treated it. Her worry had yet to calm.

"Can you come again in the morning? I'd like to keep him for overnight observation. Just in case. No point in you taking him to the Refuge if you just need to rush him back here later. Besides, you should get home to your kiddos." Michael gave her a concerned look.

"You sure, Eden? You look dead on your feet. Eden confirmed that she was indeed sure and helped Michael pack his things back into the van. Then they moved the still sedated wolf into a 3x5 kennel, the largest size they had. Michael promised to come back at eleven the next morning before giving Eden a quick hug and leaving. After sanitizing her equipment, Eden sat down on the bench in the kennel room. She intended to stay up and watch for signs of further illness, but before she knew it, her eyes were drifting closed. Despite her best efforts to stay awake, exhaustion dragged Eden under. Without warning, she sunk into a dreamless sleep.

 

[WickedWitch]

He didn't mean to, he never meant to. It's an unsettling thought that echoes emptily through Harley's head, he's frozen. Muscles tense and immobile, his hands are the only things that move as terrible shivers rake through him. His ears are ringing so loudly that he can't think, he can't move, he can't feel. Harley never meant to, he's never been a necessarily 'bad' person. He was even a pretty upstanding pack member, with a few minor flaws of course, but all together he was a good person. Never brought attention to himself, and helped wherever he could. He'd never purposely hurt anyone, never. "I didn't mean to."

He weakly whispers into the eerily quiet of the pack house, the soft patter of water hitting against the metallic inlining of the sink acting as the ominous background noise as Harley fails to grip onto the stumbling rims of reality. Ruby red eyes stare up at the ceiling in such a lifeless and dull manner that his stomach churns with a harsh wave of nausea and spine-chilling fear. They'll wake up, his crazed brain meekly ensures, attempting to coax him into action to do something. Yet he can barely keep his legs from collapsing underneath him, his bottom lip trembles, and like a dam that's already been dealt several cracks, his eyes widen an inch wider. And the dam breaks, without a second to even properly recognize any emotions that isn't just cold, salty tears begin their relentless and heavy path down his face. Fat tears roll down his face freely, and he can't even muster enough of anything to let the broken sob coherently resound from his scratchy throat.

The scene unraveled before lurch aggressively against the inner walls of his brain, digging its claws deep into his mind until the image is forever engraved in his mind. his hands are painted in a crimson color that has lined a good chunk of the kitchens floor and splattered carelessly on the offwhite wallpaper. Distantly through the thick muffle in his ear, he can hear the happy chatter of the rest of the pack slowly traveling closer and closer to where he is, and his heart has already made it's permanent place inside his stomach. And the broken sobs clog inside his throat, refusing to allow him the grace of even a whisper of air. They're going to see, they're all going to see what he did, what he is. "Don't look, please don't look," He feebly mutters mindlessly into the now stiffly quiet. The rough padding of someone's hand clenches painfully down on his shoulder, and with an awkward turn of his head, a terrified scream lodges in his throat at the intimidating and seething figure of his father. "Harley, what did you do?!" His father hisses at him with such venom that he can't help the aggressive flinch that snaps through him, "I-I… didn't.." The words falling carelessly out of his mouth , it was the only words that he could muster to say, and with a sudden movement. His vision flickers and before he can properly register what was happening, he was plummeting sideways towards the wooden flooring. The eyes of every member following him.

Harley jolts awake with a sharp intake, his eyes widened with fear and his heart thudding so furiously against his chest. Only small and ailing breaths of air manage to make it into his lungs, with his mind being overridden with fear from a traumatizing memory played so heartlessly for him, he can't even think properly. His body remains slumped, only the heavy rising and falling of his chest indicating he has awoken from his slumber. A fearful whine shoves its way out of him, though Harley is still stumbling in the act of trying to properly catch his footings to even be remotely embarrassed by the weak action.

 

[FlourPower]

When Eden woke up, she found herself staring at the clinic wall. Groaning when she realized sleeping on the bench had left her with a stiff neck and an oncoming headache, she sat up groggily and pulled her phone out from her back pocket. 7:30 am. She still had time to check on the wolf, then go home and shower. Maybe get some extra sleep before she had to come back at 11. A whine pulled Eden's attention from her phone and a jolt when through her as she realized she'd not stayed up to check on the wolf as she'd intended to. Hopefully, his condition hadn't worsened during the night. But when Eden turned toward the kennel, it was not a wolf lying on the blankets.

Instead, Eden found that there was a naked man sitting on the floor. All she could see of him before shielding her eyes was seemingly long limbs and a head of dark hair. No one she knew. Certainly, no one who should be locked in a dog kennel at her clinic. "Who are you?" Eden demanded, nearly tumbling off the bench as she launched to her feet. Not only did she have a naked man in her clinic, but the wolf that had been occupying the kennel he was in was missing. Despite her shock and confusion, worry for the injured animal sprang once more to Eden's mind. She couldn't treat a missing animal.

"What the hell is going on?" Maybe Eden had forgotten to lock the doors last night and some sicko had broken in here? That still didn't explain why he was in the kennel or where the wolf had gone. The only thing that made some kind of sense was if Michael had gotten here early and pulled a prank on her. If that was the case, then the wolf was safe at the refuge. But why prank Eden at all and why such a bizarre prank? "Michael!" She yelled down the hall, watching the intruder with growing nervousness. "Michael are you here?"

 

[WickedWitch]

Harley is still reeling from the intensely close experience with death, though somewhat finding a balanced place in his brain where thoughts were somewhat functional, yet some of his actions are slowler and a rather aggressive headache pounds through his head. As he's reaching towards the metal bars of the somewhat medium sized cage, there's a shuffling from somewhere and then the sluggish movements of someone else tickles unpleasantly at his overriding senses. At first he's suddenly bristling up, a threatening snarl already pulling at his lips. A woman comes into view a few moments later, her light colored curls framing her pale neck, and there's a very distant remembrance. Though memories from the night before were blurry, so he couldn't exactly place where he'd seen her. Her eyes widened at the sight of him in the kennel. Immediately demanding to know who he was, to which Harley agitatedly has to admit is understandable, but the blood pounding through his ears has his sense of kindness numbed out.

And the sudden onslaught of yells from the strange woman has him incredulously pushed over the edge, with a low growl of anger, he pushes himself forward. His movements are short and clipped, in an attempt to let the wounds relatively heal more, he takes for a faster approach -though less gentle. Unfortunately his movement's are a bit awkward, as his limbs were far too large and long for the otherwise sizable kennel. Right, he thinks absentmindedly as he pulls at the metal bars, it would probably be better if he was in the same space as her. The metal lets out it's own squeaks and protest, proving to be a little more difficult to bend with his state. But Harley manges, and it takes less than two strides for him to tower over the much smaller woman. His eyes blazing with anger at the fact that she was forcing his hand, with little to no gentleness, he presses the rough palm of his hand against her mouth. Silencing her annoying yells, "I'm going to kindly insist that you stop, unless you don't mind having your tongue ripped out." Harley hisses, feeling a small pang of pain spread through his side, ultimately choosing to ignore in favor of slowly noting the area around him.

"Where am I?" He asks after an inspection of the place leaves him with no answers of his own, the building somewhat resembles a clinic . But the products didn't exactly seem 'human' friendly, and Harley was not one to try to solve the harder answers. The woman obviously knew or maybe even worked there, and it was more fitting that she answered, that way he could resolve whether he would kill her or… Well kill her. In entirety both of the options were a bit messier, but he'd been dealt worse hands. He'd work with what he'd got for now.

 

[FlourPower]

The man growled-- growled-- at Eden before standing up. To Eden's horror, he reached out and began to wrench the bars of the kennel apart. A small noise of distress escaped her. There was no way anyone should be strong enough to do that unless... unless they were on drugs. What other explanation was there? Some naked crackhead or steroid junky had broken into her clinic and was probably going to murder her. Great. What a great way to end her week. 'And probably my life.'

Eden stood frozen in shock as the intruder stepped through the gap in the bars and lunged straight for her. His hand roughly gripping her face muffled her shriek. The man asked where he was and Eden jerked her head away and stumbled back a step. "You're in my veterinary clinic," she whispered. Any doubts she'd had before about this being a prank were gone now. The man was even taller up close and Eden could tell by the definition of his arms and torso that he was strong. Too strong for her to overpower physically. Maybe she should outrun him? Turning her back to him seemed like a bad idea just about then. Unforgivingly sharp features glared down at her. Under different circumstances, he would be handsome. Right now, all he looked like to Eden was terrifying.

It was then she noticed that the man was injured in several places. Some of the more significant wounds had been neatly stitched, although his stunt with the bars had likely torn a few open. "Look, if you're hurt I can get you an ambulance. Or some help." Preferably of the psychological kind. Speaking to him in the same level tone that she'd use with an angry cat or rabid coyote, Eden said "I'm not your enemy, okay? But I need to know what you did with the wolf. Poaching or harming wildlife in this area is a felony." Hopefully, he hadn't just unleashed the injured wolf into town.

Eden glanced nervously down at her watch. There was still more than twenty minutes before Melissa was due to arrive for the day shift. Even if she was willing to risk putting her friend and employee at risk, Eden couldn't wait that long. Remembering the psycho was still naked, Eden had an idea. "Can you--" her voice faltered and her eyes remained glued to his face. "Can I get you a blanket or something? Please."

 

[WickedWitch]

His brows burrow in confusion, a heavy set of wrinkles spreading across his forehead, gradually though. The pieces slowly slide their way into a coherent place, letting Harley finally remember -or as much as he could remember without it increasing the pain of an already painful headache- what had occurred the day before. It is with an obvious slump of dejection in his shoulders that he concludes that he was far from allowed to kill the woman, it was even worse, he was indebted. While he was not entirely sure what she had done to him, she had kept him alive, longer than he could have ever done on his own. Maybe she was a modern healer, it had been years since Harley had been out and about in the human world, so he wasn't knowledgeable on what had changed.

The woman speaking catches his wandering attention, her words are relatively muffled, the loud pounding still resounding endlessly through his ears. But the movements of his lips leaves him with a relative idea of what she was saying, though he was still more than wary of the woman, he did not feel that she necessarily had bad intentions for him, but it was the wounds that he worryingly noted had opened to reveal oddly colored blood that kept him from completely calming in the presence of a stranger. "I don't need help.." If she was with the hunters, then he would have been dead. Yet he was not sure if he was in the realm of allowing the woman to understand where or what exactly had happened to the wolf, she didn't seem to be the type to just believe that an entire wolf had turned into a human overnight. "I didn't hurt it, and it's still alive," Harley gives, snapping his mouth shut in defiance to give anything else.

He watches with a tad sense of wariness as the woman flickers her gaze to the mechanic on her arm, the heavy stench of nerves clouding unpleasantly in the air. Humans were absolutely terrible at keeping their scents at bay, with a disgruntled grumble of aversion, he takes a few small steps. Not too far away so that if she tries anything stupid, it would not put him in too much of a troublesome situation if he was to run after her. There's an odd hint to the woman's tone as she passively insists on getting him a blanket, Harley wasn't entirely sure what the problem was, but it seemed to make her uncomfortable that he was naked. With a slight frown pulling at the tips of his lips, he unclaps the tight clench of his jaw, "Sure, but don't try anything stupid." He warns, his voice is hoarse and scratches irritatingly hot and raw at the inside of his throat.

 

[FlourPower]

Eden almost scoffed at the man's insistence that he 'didn't need help'. "I would beg to differ," she told him flatly. "You've done a disservice to whoever gave you such neat stitch work." Still, if, the man passed out from blood loss, it could only be a good thing for Eden. Her stomach turned at the unpleasantness of her thoughts but in a situation like this, she could hardly blame herself. At least the intruder's temper seemed to have calmed for the moment. The news that the wolf was alive and unharmed took some of the tension from Eden's jaw. This was far from an ideal situation, but worry for her patient was only worsening it. But could she trust this psycho's word? "I hope that's the truth." Eden said quietly, searching his eyes for signs of deception. She wasn't sure if she'd recognize it even if she did see it. She knew nothing about the man. "I worked very hard to save that wolf, you know."

Wrapping her arms comfortingly around herself, Eden said "I'm going to see if I can find anything for you to cover-up. And my first aid kit, too, okay?" Eden nodded to the door behind her. "Just stay here for a moment and I'll be right back." Eden kept her voice level and breathed slowly around the words to hide her fear. "Um... feel free to take a seat. Or whatever." Eden gestured to the bench where she had been sleeping until just a moment ago. Hopefully, the man would stay put. Eden didn't really have a backup plan if he didn't besides stabbing him with a scalpel or something. Was she even capable of that? Eden wasn't sure.

 

[WickedWitch]

Harley wants to sneer something back at her, feeling himself slightly bristle at her rude poke at his obvious dismissing of the person that had done his stitches. He just hadn't found the exact moment or situation in which he would pay her back, she didn't seem to be even remotely close to the death, so that option was aggressively scratched out.. Honestly she should be lucky he hadn't killed her yet, but he gives a soft harrumph and stalks over to the bench where she had previously been. Not prompting his mouth to give anything more, the soft pain at his side gradually grew harder to ignore as the minutes ticked almost lazily by. He was becoming more and more confused on what his body was going through, in more normal cases, he would've been healed by now. But he supposed the problem was something outside of the hunters attack, probably whatever was killing the rest of his kind.

A tingling sensation tickles at the inside of his throat, and before he can swallow it down, his body convulses from the abrupt pressure of an emphatic cough that seems to squeeze so harshly out of his chest that he's left pitifully gasping for air. Feebly wishing that the woman was already out of the room by now, already feeling out of place, Harley did not want her to get any ideas by the sight of his state.. His cracked and pale lips are now stained a crimson red, some of the liquid drooling cursorily onto his open palm. The sight of the blood pulls so fiercely at his heart, a insensate feeling of white-hot tribulation and fear spreads through his chest.. As the days seemed to flip by beneath his eyelids, he was left with the bare minimum to settle the roaring world beneath him. His shoulders felt as if they were crumbling from the sheer strength it called for him to have to carry such a mission, one he was never even given the choice to take. It was given to him by birthright, it was his duty the moment he opened ruby red eyes to the darkening world beyond him. Harley pulls his palm closed, his gaze hardening as he turns his attention to dazedly taking in the scenery in front of him.

 

[FlourPower]

Eden didn't dare to hope when the man let out a noise of irritation then slumped down on the bench. This was her chance. She could go to the exam room, grab her car keys off the table, then run. "I'll be right back," she lied, taking a few steps toward the kennel room door. A painful sounding cough stopped her and when she glanced over her shoulder, she saw red lining the inside of the intruder's mouth. He wasn't looking at her, just staring ahead of him with clear disorientation. Clearly, his condition was worse than she thought. Eden felt obligated to at least say something.

"You need to go to a hospital..." Eden realized she had no idea what his name was. "Whatever your here for, coughing up blood is a bad sign. I mean, you need an X-ray at the least. Maybe a coagulation test. Certainly, a pulse oximetry--" Eden realized she was rambling and stopped. "I treat sick animals, not people, but even I can tell that you're very ill." Eden wondered if the same drug that made him so strong was what was causing these side effects. She checked her watch again. Ten minutes until eight. She should just run away. The man seemed too injured to come after her. But what she did and something happened to him? What if he died because she stood by? Crazy or not, he was still a person.

Slowly Eden walked back toward him, making herself as small as possible and holding her hands in front of her so he could see she wasn't a threat. Once again, it was not all the different from how she'd deal with an injured animal. And in this case, this man was definitely a predator. "Let's start over, okay? My name is Eden. Let me help you."

 

[WickedWitch]

Harley takes her words with a giant spoonful of salt, the only reason it was logical of her to be telling him such things, was because she was scared of him. His point is further proven by the thin, barely noticeable scent of fear that clung like a second-skin to her, so he disregards her rambles to the back of his mind to fester into nothingness.. While in very few cases, he may have dragged himself to a hospital to at least get at least an overview of what was wrong with him, he felt he did not have the luxury to do so. Furthermore he needed to think consequently about this, about how he was to proceed now that his journey was being met with a reasonable amount of hiccups and detours.

Gradually, in a manner almost slower than a turtle, he sags further into the bench beneath him. The taut muscles of his shoulders and arm unwind themselves involuntary, the lacerations digging their exhausted nails into his skin. Dragging him into an odd state of foggy thoughts, unwillingness to move further than he'd already done, and an almost warring prickling spreading through his nape. It almost felt like the taut reigns he kept on the shifting process, was slipping through his trembling hold. It was troubling, because if he didn't have that control, he was basically weak and vulnerable to any attacks.

He doesn't notice he's not really there or that his eyes are closed, until they're fluttering open.. A soft beam of sunlight bathing his tellingly tan skin in a warm hue, giving him a small modicum of relief from the white-hot that has carved itself into him. Harley doesn't know why, but he finds his lips softly tilting up into a half-smile. He could find himself becoming good partners with the woman -Eden, as she so steadfastly claimed -, in a world that did not exist. While it takes him a little longer than he'd like, he pushes forward, extending his hand out as a temporary claim of a truce. "Harlem.." He grunts , the words causing more pain than he can properly hide, he won't say it aloud. But he was -in the small hints in his body language- already given her the go.. He wasn't even nearly close to any clues to what the hell was happening to him, and at this point any help, even from a stranger that had already saved him, was more than welcomed..

 

[FlourPower]

After a moment of silence, Eden swore she saw the slightest smile on the man's face and found herself smiling too. It was the first hint of warmth she'd seen from someone who had been otherwise surly and terrifying the entire time she'd known him. The man introduced himself as Harlem and reached out his hand. Eden knew then that it was over-- had been over as soon as he gave her that smile. There was no chance she was just going to run away and abandon him now, dangerous or not. Eden's tendency to 'take in strays' as her mother always called it (usually literally) was kicking in once again. Eden shook his hand. "Nice to meet you Harlem. I'll be right back, okay?"

This time, Eden actually made it out of the room, glancing doubtfully at the front door as she passed by it. The image of Harlem's seeing eyes staring open and unseeing flashed through her mind and she sighed, continuing on to the exam room. She didn't have any men's clothes lying around, But she did have a box of shirts from their last fundraiser and a long blanket he could wrap around his waist like a towel. Eden also grabbed some antiseptic, bandages, and a set of needles. She grabbed her car keys too. Just in case. Eden returned to the kennel room. This was the hard part.

Eden handed him a large unisex shirt and the towel, indicating that he should cover his waist and legs with it. "I still don't know what's going on but you haven't attacked me or anything--" except for when he'd grabbed her face, of course-- "so I'll level with you: we have less than five minutes before my coworker gets here. And when she does, she's probably going to call the police. I understand you don't want to go to the hospital and I can't stop you from making that choice. I still don't know who you are or what's happening here, but there are medical supplies in this bag. I'll give them to you and you can get whoever did those stitches to help you again. But you have to go Harlem. Otherwise, things will only get worse."

 

[WickedWitch]

Harlem nods his head, though the act is somewhat sluggish and slow. His movements slowly being weighed down heavier and heavier by the spreading wounds in his side, and the exhaustion of his supernatural blood pumping more energy into his body in an attempt to heal him. So far, it wasn't doing much, the smaller and less life-threatening wounds had healed. Though not without leaving a relatively gruesome and sore bruise. He doesn't know why, but even in the very few circumstances where he had ended up hurt and unable to function quite as usual, he wouldn't have trusted any woman. And while he still doesn't completely trust Eden, he finds that he's less alert with her than anyone else -even his own family.

He's softly jostled by her insistence of the clothes, happily accepting it and quickly dressing. The shirt smells heavily of lint and neglect, but he just scrunches up his nose in distaste, still choosing to pull the shirt over him. It's not too small, certain parts of his chest are somewhat squeezed snuggly, and the sleeves feel too tight against his biceps, but nonetheless it relatively fits and Harley doesn't really have the options to be picky. The moment the shirt is over his head, the words the woman speaks takes its time to finally clip into place. She was abandoning him. A hot wave of anger washes over him, leaving him in an odd state of whiplash from how suddenly his emotions change..

His forest green eyes settle into a blazing glare, flickers of ruby red momentarily color his eyes, wrapping his tight grip around the woman's arm he pulls her closer. By only an inch though, "You're going to help me.." The words are grinded out of his clenched jaw, and every word is lined with a heavy tone of a threat. And his statement leaves no room for argument, he doesn't quite trust just leaving Eden to her own accords. God knows if she plans on ratting him out the moment he's out of sight.

 

[FlourPower]

Harlem pulled the shirt on, to Eden's relief. The situation was already stressful enough without him being naked on top of it. He seemed to care little about his state of undress and while he might be comfortable in the buff in front of a stranger, Eden was definitely not. However, her relief didn't last long. When she announced that he had to leave, Harlem's hand shot out and grabbed her arm, pulling her a millimeter closer to him. Eden inhaled sharply, trying to pull her appendage back. She could have sworn Harlem's eyes turned red for a moment, but it must have been her stress addled mind playing a trick on her."I try to be kind to you after you break into my clinic, destroy my property--" Eden gestured with her free hand at the bent bars of the kennel, "and now you're grabbing me again." Eden frowned at him. She thought they'd established some sort of tentative connection, but not he was back to being angry and erratic. "Even if I did help you, we can't stay here." Eden tugged on her wrist again, aching underneath his tight grip. "Stop that."

 

[WickedWitch]

Even though Harley finds that being so oddly enraged is very tiring on his already exhausted body, he finds a new flame of anger being kindled. It's a different type of anger, not quite stemming off of anything, finding itself growing and being kindled just by breathing. He wasn't a necessarily angry person by nature, maybe he did have a bit of quick temper, but he knew how to handle it. Well he used to do it, with a sharp squeeze as a way of warning, he yanks his hand from the tight grip. Like it physically burnt him to stay any longer, his face is still hardened by anger,and he almost seems more aggressive than moments ago. "Then we leave, now." Harley hisses through his angered haze, finding that keeping himself from not snapping at anything and everything coming as a bit reluctant to actually listen to his more logical side. He doesn't really know exactly where they'd go, but he can somewhat recall the directions to his parents' old but pretty well kept cabin that couldn't be too far from where they were at now. He doesn't wait for the women to agree or -if she had a death wish- disagree, pushing his legs that didn't seem as close to threatening underneath him than he'd expected, slightly tilting his head towards as a silent shove to move along.

 

[FlourPower]

"We?" Eden whispered. Her eyes widened as Harlem yanked his hand back from her's. She rubbed her wrist, relieved that he'd at least let go of her. Mentally, she was kicking herself. She should have just called the cops when she went to get the medical supplies. Yet, she hadn't. Her instincts had told her otherwise. As terrifying as he was and as inexplicable as her desire to help him remained, Eden found herself walking quickly by Harlem's side as he gestured her out into the main clinic. Letting him take her to a secondary location was a bad idea, but she'd used up all her courage for the time being and at the very least this got him away from her coworkers. Without thinking, Eden pushed through the front doors and out into the parking lot. The morning breeze cooled her panic-flushed cheeks. Besides her car, the area was still empty. "Where are we going?" Eden asked her angry companion.