I'm Not All That Mean

Wess watched Claire from afar. He'd been like this for fifteen minutes, trying to get the courage to approach her. Why did she live in the Forbidden Forest? Didn't she knew it was dangerous? That monsters like him were around? She was in the water... no mud and scent tantalizing.

The Wendigo slunk out where she could see him and sat a good distance away from her. "What are you doing?" He made a face, scrunching his nose up and wishing he could speak without breathing. She smelled too good, and it was killing him. "Has your pack gotten my presents? I hope it makes up for what I ate." Wesley wasn't tempted by Claire's outfit, in fact, he hardly noticed it. That was the way he had always been, as weird as it may have seemed.

Wess had been thinking about Claire. Most of his thoughts weren't emotionally fueled in nature, but there were a few, and that scared him to no end. The Wendigo bit his lip, causing it to bleed.

It did help, but only a little. Wess held his breath as Claire stepped closer to him and narrowed his eyes in thought. "I upset you?" He said it like it was some big revelation. "I have been the same as I always am." His smile was humorless. "Hungry. And you?" Wesley didn't mind Claire getting closer to him, not on an emotional level. It was the physical level of it all that Wesley feared.

The Wendigo reached out to gently take hold of Claire's arm and pulled her closer, into a hug. He was hungry yes, he always was, but Wess had eaten before he came here. "I missed you. I missed having someone to talk to. But I didn't miss the cutting and stabbing."

The Wendigo shook. It had been a lifetime ago that Wess had hugged someone. There was a part of him that wanted just to throw her away and run as far and as fast as he could. To run in hopes that, somehow, his hunger wouldn't catch him. Unbeknownst to him, tears were rolling down his cheeks silently. Wesley was not a loud crier, nor did he bawl when it happened.

His grip on her tightened and all at once loosened until his arms fell to his sides. "Don't say that. You're sweet, I hope." He grinned through the tears and pulled her away so he could tenderly cup her face and meet her eyes. "This is weird." Wess' voice was barely a whisper, too focused on some internal dialogue.

Another minute of silent staring and Wess leaned in for a kiss. It was slight almost chaste, and the Wendigo was too inexperienced to do much else. His face was beet red when he pulled away. "I should go."

Claire wasn't sweet, not really. If she were to be branded as any form of chocolate, it would be dark. Bitter and not the favorite of most. But Wess liked her anyway. That had nothing to do with loneliness or lack of options; if Wess hadn't enjoyed her company he would have been fine in his solitude, but he did. He did enjoy her company.

Kiss barely had an experience with kissing, and he couldn't remember most of that experience when his lips met Claire's. While the Wendigo was good at reading body language, he didn't understand what her's was about. She was shocked into near silence, and he didn't know why. Wesley assumed if Claire hadn't wanted to kiss him she'd have stabbed him again. She'd done so for less. Maybe she was too afraid? Repulsed? The thought that he might have frightened her hurt.

It took Wess entirely too long to understand what Claire disagreed with when she told him no. She didn't want him to leave? Did she want another kiss? He had to remain leaned down by the grip on his shoulder. He stared into her eyes, debating this entire situation. He'd sure made a clusterfuck, this time, hadn't he?

Wess had worked up a secret well of confidence to give Claire that first kiss, but now that she was asking for another, he felt nearly incapable of giving her what she wanted. She still smelled like mud, animal, and sap, but her lips had tasted very human. Too near his teeth. Close enough to bite and tear. She was so close. It would be so easy.

Wesley leaned forward, tantalized, and pushed his lips to hers. It felt much more strange to him this time, now that he was so tuned into his body. He didn't close his eyes, this time, trying to focus on keeping control and not getting hungry. Claire's safety was more important than whatever this was.

A second later -- perhaps too soon for the wolf girls liking -- Wess broke the kiss and righted himself. He reached up with a clawed hand and rubbed the back of his head, messing with a few thick strands of hair. "I'm not," he gulped, "good with things like this. You know I've never even been to the city here. Never left the forest for as long as I can 'member." He didn't say that he wasn't right for her, but it was heavily implied.

Wesley felt strange when Claire struck him in the chest. He watched as it happened and took to staring at it like he was looking at it happening to someone else. Everything was slow and brittle. Claire was brittle.

He was quiet, listening to her and taking everything she said in. Wess had spent so much of his life running. Running and hiding and killing was all he could remember anymore. Even Aaron was fading. And for all that Wess was kind (as kind as he could be, under the circumstances) he had never been one for showing much emotion. He'd never been one to talk about his feelings and put everything out there. He was even less so now, now that survival was so vital, and he was more beast than man.

Wess was utterly tongue-tied by all of it. Why had he been given something so small and delicate to care for? Was he good for gentle things like emotions? Barely touchable and with the need for tender care that he couldn't provide. Wesley was, what, half a person? Less, now?

He was so confused, and as far as the Wendigo had seen, Claire was not good at, or patient enough, to explain the subtlety of these things. Too sore. Too scared. Too vulnerable. "It was perfect... until I came along?" He would have pursed his lips, but that action was nearly impossible for Wess. Instead, Wesley clenched his jaw, sharp teeth peeking out from behind inhumanly thin lips.

She held his finger. Didn't flinch away from him. Want his kiss, his touch, his words, his presence. Why? Wess wouldn't live up to the things she wanted, because he was not normal or human, as she was. He couldn't do the things she could. Live the life she'd want. He wasn't out here by choice, as she seemed to be, he just had no options to return to society. People didn't like being prey, and Wesley barely liked being a predator. Oh, the fearsome Wendigo. Either too kind for what they imagined or too bestial. There was no middle ground, no winning.

"You're a very self-centered girl, aren't you?" Wess asked, still all soft-voiced and kind eyes. It wasn't quite an insult, a simple blunt, animal observation devoid of emotional attachment. "Okay, Claire. I can accept you. I don't promise I'll never hurt you again, 'cause those things are bound to happen. But I'll try, and I'll try to be 'round you. Just don't stab me no more unless you gotta, and maybe you try and tell me why you get upset about things like you do. 'Cause all that sorta confuses the bejeebers outta me."