Wendigos Aren't Supposed To Be Nice

Claire would be hard-pressed to find a nickname Wesley didn't like. Wess, Wessy, Wessy-poo, all and any of those worked well enough for him. It seemed most things rolled off him like water on a duck. "The buck, yes," Wess said, voice distracted and joyful. Wesley wasn't human enough to feel bad for eating baby animals. Maybe at one point, he was, but that part of him had long since died. Just as the part that was more flustered around people he liked had.

Wesley didn't feel the need to explain his tactic to Claire. Instead, the Wendigo used his burst of speed to beeline to the buck. It looked up just as he grabbed its head with his claws and tore into its neck, snapping it to the side. The rest of the deer leaped and scampered away. Wess crouched on the deer and bit into its neck on reflex, tearing away the skin there to ensure its death.

For a moment, Wesley was lost in the blood and excitement of the hunt. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hair stood on end. There were a thousand things on his mind, but in his head, he was entirely alone, breath heavy and labored. The hiss of his breathing made an eerie sound in the otherwise quiet forest.

Before she could even pull the knife out of his back, WSess caught her wrist and tried to throw her over his shoulder and onto the deer. If he succeeded the Wendigo would snarl and bare his teeth, but then, looking at her and not smelling the human on her, Wesley remembered that they were not enemies. It was hard when blood was running down his back, and she had attacked him, but he knew...

Wess shook his head and flung himself away from her, shaking his head several times. He pulled at his hair. She was a friend. Friend friend. "I was trying to help you!" Wess snarled, half irked and half saddened. "Why did you attack me? Do you just want people to hurt you? Look, I get it. Your pride is important to you, but pride without intelligence makes for a dead girl!"

He stumbled away more, growling and snarling as she shook his head. Wess didn't want to lose himself. He didn't want to be a monster. Tears streamed down his face.

The hug helped to bring Wesley back to the present. His mind was a dark place with a tiny voice that sang how hungry he was. Always so hungry. He was damn hungry now, too, but his instinct still wasn't kicking up, thank God.

Without thinking about it, Wess hugged Claire to him, right with his hands resting on her upper back. He hadn't had a hug in a very long time. It was hard to remember how warm they were. Warm and safe. Wess found himself lifting Claire off the ground briefly before releasing her and sniffling. No, he wasn't crying or tearing up anymore. He smiled, then, remembering his sharp teeth, covered his mouth.

"Sorry. We should get that buck back." He looked over at it and winced at the state the dead creature was in. He'd done a number on it.

Wesley didn't understand. "Is that a joke or do you really want to keep it?" For themselves? As if they would be eating together? Wess had never eaten with another person like... like this monster he was. The idea of it was both worrying and appealing. "I thought you had to hunt so the pack would not be angry?" Wesley was not a pack animal, so he was uncertain how the pecking order went there.

"Are you part of them? And if so, what is your rank? Wolves are usually family units, parents, and their children, so it's odd that you're with them." He stalked her to the deer, hunched low as he normally was. Wess reached out and hauled the deer over one of his shoulders. It was a large buck, and he struggled to keep it balanced on his bony shoulder. Oh, he hadn't thought this part out.

"We could keep the boar? I -- They have more fat so they must be tastier to you, right?" To Wess, it didn't matter. He ate too fast to taste any of it.

Wesley wasn't sure what had changed to make Claire hate him less (or not at all). He blushed, flustered. "Erm, I could help you take the deer most of the way there. I don't really eat animals, at least, I don't like to. They don't do much for me, but sometimes they're all I got, I guess. I need to hunt..." He was quiet, letting that sink in. "But I would love to eat with you, Claire!"

Wess set the buck so that it was over both of his shoulders like sheep herders carried baby lambs. He smiled, albeit coyly, at her and looked away, so she didn't have to see his sharp teeth.

He was true to his word, making a brisk walk for the direction of her and her pack's den. For the most part, Wesley enjoyed silence when he walked the forest. Always, he listened for the sounds of anyone out and about. He was becoming aware that he might not get a good meal tonight because he'd helped Claire. Not a lot worried Wesley, but that did. It wasn't hard for him to starve and it hurt when he went more than a day without eating. God, how everything hurt.

When they got to the den, Wess threw the buck on the ground and nuzzled it closer to Claire, backing away slowly. "Do you want me to wait out here?" His voice was hesitant, uncertain. He'd stay and go to her home with her, even if it meant he'd be without the flesh he so desired tonight.