Shadow Town (Katherin & Donut)

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Ezra poured the bottle of whiskey down the drain. The color seemed striking to him, and the stench of the liquid challenging, so he downed it, or attempted to, with a grip on the bottle that nearly shattered its glass and vomited his afternoon snack. Rats had always been his favorite, stout and round and larger than his palm...

His tongue burned and he felt the bile rise in his throat once more. He gulped to push it back. "Too late to regret anything..." As soon as he watched, with a slowly rising satisfaction, as the liquid fell into the tube that led into the sewers - his hunting ground, but not his favorite one - before shoving the bottle into his box of other plastic and glass garbage. He would save those for a sale, but because fall was nearing its end and winter soon to arrive, people had no need of his trash.

Ezra shoved his gloved hands into the pocket of his thick hoodie and gazed up at the sky. Gloomy. Dark, like his hair, which bluntly smelled like a fat man's ass, but he could care less in the cold. He wished he could just walk around like his cat friends did, but his vast size posed far too big of a threat than the careless mayor that governed the city.

His nose perked. People bustled out of their houses and gathered in the central park, laid in front of the alleys where he stood. And slept. And lived. He poked his head out, checking if the commotion was worth his while, and had the intention of going down to the sewers when he caught the scent of forest leaves, rain, and blood. Animal blood.

He whipped his head back at the sea of people gathering in the park. He walked out of the alleys and watched as a line of finely dressed, tall characters sauntered through the path the residents opened for them. They seemed wealthy, powerful, but he had never seen them before. Guests, perhaps? The people seemed to know who they were... Who were they?

What were they? He asked himself, sniffing the air again only to find the same scent of blood coming from their direction.
 
Griffin watched his tribe as they made their way into town. They weren't really the a tribe but they were his. He called them the lost boys. Each of them had their stories. All of them had been kicked out their original tribes for reason or another. The reasons didn't matter to him. He had been one of them once upon a time. Now he was in charge of 8 of them. None of them were the same type of animal. Thomas was the oldest at almost 17. He had come to Griffin after he ran away from an abusive father. He cursed like a sailor. But he was a level headed boy. He was a wolf and considered Griffin his alpha so he obeyed almost all his orders. Next was Nicholas who was almost 16. He had been kicked out of his tribe for thief. He was an eagle and needed to soar high occasionally. Next was Henry who was barely 14. He had been orphaned and no one in the tribe wanted to take responsibility for him. He was a Iguana shifter. He tended to be lazy but he was a good kid. Then came Mark. Mark had been kicked out for accidently revealing himself to a human. He was all 12 and his hormones made it difficult for him to control his shifts. He was a dog shifter so he had a lot of energy. Next was Walter who was a deer shifter. The boy was 10 and so shy that he hadn't said hardly anything to Griffin and the other. His parents had been killed by hunters. Than there was Devon. The eight year old squirrel shifter was a handful. He had been kicked out of his tribe for playing pranks on humans. And last but not least was Kevin. He was the baby of the group at six. Kevin was a dragon shifter and believed to be the last of his kind.
 
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Ezra narrowed his eyes at what seemed like a family, though they were all boys. They carried an impeccable air about them despite their rather simple clothes, the air an aristocrat would exude in each graceful stride between the crowds of townsfolk. At least, it seemed to Ezra, that they had power and money: two things he would never have, but aspired to.

He neared the crowd with measly steps but kept his distance. The city was full of homeless youth like him and he didn't want to be chased around in alleys by middle class old men because his filth posed a threat to them. He eyed the traveling group warily, nose twitching as the scent of blood grew stronger, veiling a faint smell of...beast. Shifters. Ezra hummed in deep thought. Rich shapeshifters? The shifters he knew were rotten thieving brats who couldn't hunt for crap. Although... it wasn't as though these promising characters could never be shifters; it was quite possible, but besides the blood and the faint trail of beast Ezra had no support for his claim.

He continued to deliberate his choices with a thumb stroking his chin and a scrunched nose: to follow them, sneak into the neighborhood and assure himself of what they were, or maximize the use of his time and energy towards more pressing matters. Like what he would be having for dinner tonight. He felt the low grumble in his stomach and the searing acid within. Dinner would have to be served earlier than he thought.

"I suppose I can pay 'em a visit at midnight," he muttered to himself and glared at the crows lining the telephone booth's roof. They were not his enemies, but he disliked the crows for their insolent prodding. He shrugged on his hood and trudged back to the damp, putrid alleys.
 
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Griffin didn't being in town much. Too many people for him. But his boys needed to be here. Supplies and resources were easier to get in town and in the winter that could be a matter of life or death. He would do whatever it took to make sure that his boy survived. He guided them to the home that the elders had given them this year. It was in a more upscale neighborhood than most of his boys were use to. Which could cause problems. But he would deal with those as they came. He scanned the area as boys filed into the house. Someone was watching them. He didn't know who or why but he would find out. The last thing he wanted was someone noticing the boys oddities.
 
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Dinner had been enough to quickly fill the grumbling emptiness in his stomach, as there had been another void that persisted to be satiated. From when those suspicious aristocrats entered the city, the thick metallic smell of blood and beast hung in the air despite its harsh dryness. The wind was unforgiving in its tenacity and cold but was not enough to hinder the lingering scent of a fresh hunt. It bothered Ezra, tickled a curiosity he would be embarrassed to appease, but did so anyway, and soon he found himself walking towards the uptown with a scarf keeping his sensitive neck warm.

The night was deeply cloaked in black shadows where his vision sharpened in. He had climbed the gates silently and even with his powerful weight they had not shackled. The moon shone bright upon him as he gazed over at the tall houses that loomed over the dry and smooth landscape. A particularly tall and dark house - or a mansion? - had stood proud and erect at the end of a street, occupying at least two lots, and he ran to the house under the shadows.

Now he balanced himself carefully on their back gates that had its curvy thorns for, Ezra assumed, the purpose of both aesthetic and to keep out mischief like him. He kept himself safely under the grace of a tree, blending with the swaying surroundings, but his eyes glowed a predatory yellow in the deep dark. He flinched back against the tree as he felt the air grow heavy with suspicion.

He gulped and cussed under his breath.
 
Griffin got the boys into the house. He put Thomas in charge. He knew that he could trust the older boy to watch the other. "Find them rooms. There should be enough to have for everyone to have their own." Which was on the only reason he had agreed to accept this house. His boys needed to have their own space. Once he was sure that the boys were occupied with exploring the house he began searching for their watcher. He used his sense of smell to find the person that watched them. It didn't take him long to find the boy. "Well what do we have here."
 
Ezra stiffened against the thick dark bark of the tree. His heart thumped as wildly as his mind raced for questions and answers and witty comebacks. He growled when the old man, who oozed remarkable strength he'd seen in some of his years, approached him. His presence, in its overbearing nature, darker than the shadows he hid in and sharper than the harsh scarcity of light, seemed mocking to Ezra, and the younger boy growled under his breath and leveled himself slowly off the gate.

His hand remained clasping at the metal and he crouched low, pupils dilated and eyes an eerie golden glow. He couldn't muster even a growl, or a grunt, for his legs shook underneath him - not in fear, not in submission, but in an awkward respect.

His arrogance would be the death of him. "Not your next meal, that's for sure. I know what you are."
 
Griffin smirked. He didn't know exactly what to think of the boys statement. It was clear the boy was a shifter. Griffin guessed him to be a cat of some sort. A big cat unless he missed his guess. He wasn't wrong often. He crossed his arms over his chest and studied the boy. "Your either incredible brave lad or very study." Another lost boy Griffin thought to himself. One that didn't know he was lost. Arrogant and angry. Griffin knew the type he had been the same way at the boys age. "For your information I don't eat children. They tend to be chewy."
 
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"So you HAVE eaten a kid?" Out of a teeming mix of excitement and curiosity, Ezra leaped into the cold moonlight and laughed at his face. "Yuck! A shifter and a pedophile? Get your ass outta town, old man, before you get chucked into jail." He kept his arms the pockets of his hoodie as a subtly defensive stance, eyes glancing down once in every while to inspect the man's feet. He felt authority radiating from him and Ezra felt fearful that if he kept his gaze trained on his face he would miss the slight shift in his stepping and would be staked on the sharp edges of their gates before he would be able to glance back down.

It was difficult to avoid his eyes, however, as though he had control over whatever Ezra intended or did not intend to do. How old was this guy? No wrinkles, no slouching or slurring, but age lined his face and wisdom purred from his voice as he spoke to him.
 
Griffin ignored the pedophile remark. If he acknowledge it it would stir memories that he would rather not think about. It was easy enough to ignore given the rest of the boys comment caused him to laugh. He hadn't expected a smart comeback. But looking at the boy he realize that he should have expected it. "Maybe I have. Maybe I haven't hadn't." He teased. He couldn't help it. He wasn't much of a teaser but sometime the boys and their behaviors caused him to do it. "Do you belong somewhere boy. Its kind of late for someone your age to be out." He asked mostly to see what the boy would say. He knew the answered. But he was curious to see the boys reaction. He prepared to grab the boy if he decided to wanted to bolt.
 
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"I'm not that young, mister," Ezra spat back with a smug dignity in his voice that faltered as soon as he noticed the man's fingers twitch by his side. Shrill panic rang in his head - did he need to run now? He could be smart about this, for once, and let himself play coy despite the anxiety. "And if that's a ploy to get me to tell you how old I am, it ain't workin'." He tipped his head back slightly as though challenging the man, but in the pit of his stomach acid grew as quickly as the submission he felt crawled all around his skin. It was one thing to respect this man. Submitting to him was an entirely different case, a case he would rather not give a chance to ever happen.

Ezra shuddered as he felt the cool night wind tickle his messy hair. He could tell how round his pupils must be from the intense, nearly delirious focus his vision maintained on the man. "So, old nut, since I'm not the sturdy young boy you are thinking of me to be, I'll leave you and your little family alone..."
 
"Oh I don't think so." Griffin grabbed the boy. "I might not be an expert when it comes to ages but I know a lost boy when I see one." He studied the boy trying to decide how much force he should use. Some where more cooperative than others. Some of his boys were happy just to belong somewhere. Others fought him tooth and nail until he earned their respect. He had a feeling this boy belonged in the later group. He would resist joining a tribe. even a small unique one like his Griffin thought. "Unless you tell me who the leader of your tribe is your coming inside the house with me for the night."
 
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A tribe...?

Ezra stared at him dumbly, his eyes turning into ice when he glanced at the grip on his arm. The man wasn't strong enough to crush his bones - or was he, but he resorted to a gentle force to mock him? - but his grip was firm. Ezra doubted he could just twist his arm and let his lithe form slide out from his grasp; he'd have to break his wrist to get away without assaulting the guy.

"You are sick," the boy spat with his fangs bare and sharp, glistening like his dilated pupils in the darkness. With a low grumble in his throat, he let his free hand twitch as he settled in the familiar growth of fur and a pulsing warmth throughout his whole body. His clothes wouldn't have to be ripped as he hoped to get out of the situation without shifting full on into a panther. The world cleared and sharpened and the dullness in color and vibrance before was now lost; Ezra heard a dripping faucet several houses away, saw the slight twitch in the man's mouth as he watched Ezra turn, and the scent of blood and beast wasn't faint anymore. A mix of his own and a definite stench of animal coming from the very creature who held him.
 
"A panther huh. Interesting. I dont think I've seen one of your kind this for north in a few years." He commented after the boy completed the change. He had on ear trained on his other boys but Travis seemed to have things in hand for the moment. His boys were cheerful arguing over who would sleep where. A smile tugged at hislips as he listened to them. That was what family and tribe should sound like. He loved that sound. He kept his attention on the boy now turned father. Holding a panther was a lot more tricky than holding a teenage boy so Griffin compensated. "What to see a neat trick kid? One I learned when I was about your age?" He wasked. He kept a firm grib on the panther as he transformed his free hand. He appendage in question went from hand to claw in less than a minute. The change was so smooth that you would have missed it if you blinked. Than Griffin used the eagles claw to grab the boy by the scuff if the neck. "Now try to escape. I dare you. Then I'll show you what else I can do."
 
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Ezra started thrashing and snarling as he threw limbs and paws at the man's face. The man's smooth action, barely noticeable aa he had grabbed him with mighty golden claws, made Ezra's insides jolt and sent him into a panic. His scent invaded him - the man reminded him of sunsets, the suffocating heat of the desert, and dead bodies. He was sure the man had lived more than that.

"You are not eating me tonight, geezer!"

He regained his cool and attempted to twist out of his grasp, letting his long and heavy tail to sweep the man off of his balance.
 
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"Eat you!?" Griffin laughed him. He was surprise that the boy had believed his lie. Most shifters can tell the lie from the truth easily enough. But the boy was probably in a panic and not thinking much less using his other senses. Griffin should have thought of that. He was experienced enough with lost boys but he had underestimated the boys fear of adults. He kept a firm grip on the boy. "Im not going to eat you boy. I know you saw the other boys. You know I don't eat kids. Or atleast you should."
 
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Ezra gulped away the panic that threatened to rise again, although the man's voice was reassuring. It was because he saw the kids, small but with a sparkling light in their eyes and thick smells not that of feeble human children, bustling about inside the manor and paying little to no heed to him - he swore he saw one of the tallest teens glare at him before resuming to whatever business - all the while looking like a solid family that bothered him. Never mind the fact they were all boys who looked nothing like each other nor their adoptive father or caretaker who held him now in the air with an amused grumble in his voice. Never mind that none of them were human, he assumed, and fit the eccentricity of their home. He felt intimidated, annoyed at their whole joy, still a little skeptical about being their dinner for tonight, but mostly, he felt intrusive.

This slight kind of shame did not stem from politeness as he lived with rats and scandalous characters with dark souls that prowled in the night to steal or kill, nor the embarrassment from looking like and being one of the poorest rots in the city. No matter what he felt or thought at the moment, however, Ezra kept neatly veiled by an arrogance that he wished would appear as annoying, and a lot of thrashing and swearing.

He prayed to gods he never believed in that his act would work, despite it all not being entirely a facade. "You some kind of rich lonely fuck? I don't want to be your kid or your boytoy," Ezra growled through gritted teeth. He wasn't all fury as he was all animal. "I'll tell the whole town about you lot if you don't let me go."
 
Griffin shook his head as he carried the teen easily into the house. The fact that the boy was threatening him with human authorities told him that the boy had no tribe to protect him. If the boy had a tribe he would have used it to threaten him Griffin was certain of that. "I don't want a boytoy I assure you. However until you give me the name of your tribe you are staying here with me." He told the boy. His other boys stared at him in confusion and uncertainly. Thomas' face was pale with fear. "I'll be back in a few minutes to tuck you all in. Hang in there Thomas." He squeeze the oldest boys shoulder. He hoped that the boy wouldn't fall apart. He was usually carefully what he said and did around Thomas because of the boys past. He drag the panther boy down the stairs where there was a cage for rogue shifters. He would take the panther boy until he got the answers he needed.
 
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His gaze was a blur as Ezra barely felt himself being moved from place to place in the dimly lit house. His face flushed in anger and his ears - now pale, human flesh - reddened from embarrassment as the weight of curious widening eyes settled on him. He wanted to thrash, to scream and growl his way out of this ridiculous situation, but as the thick scent of musk and forest and fur invaded his nose, his face twisted and he had never felt so overwhelmed before. How did he not notice this strong of smells when they sauntered into the city? How did the others not notice them? He did not know many shifters, but those he did masked their strong smells in stronger ones - like perfume. Or rotten eggs and bullcrap, like he did.

"You're insane..." Ezra grumbled in a tiny voice. He felt tiny, feeble. He raised his head as the man, carrying him as though he was lighter than the dolls scattered by a small bunk bed, descended into the darkness. He locked eyes briefly with a boy around his age who looked to be on the verge of either tears or murder.
 
"Your not the first to think so. You probably won't be the last." Griffin told the new boy as he carried him down the stairs to the basement. The basement smelled musty. For seasons he coukd never figure out. Basements always did. He cared the boy to the far side of a large empty room. The room appeared to be made completely out ou cement. There was no windows or other rooms that Ezra could see. Griffin opened the door to the large metal cage. The cage itself took up about half the room. It had metal bars spaced about half an inch apart. Griffin tossed the boy in figuring that since he was part cat he would land on his feet. Then he closed and locked the door. "That should keep you out of trouble for the night."