amaranthh (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
greenling) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2014-10-31 03:25 am
greenling) wrote in rainbowfic2014-10-31 03:25 am
Famous #6, Harvest Gold #3
Name: Greenling
Story: All Great Things
Colors: Famous #6 (And baby, when it's love, if it's not rough it isn't fun), Harvest Gold #3 (crisp breeze)
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (I Need A Break: When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night, he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.), Graffiti (Trick or Tweet, Image), Canvas
Word Count: 312
Rating: G
Warnings: Not really.
Summary: A bit of Peace adjusting to werewolfery, and a bit of indirect world-building I needed to ponder.
Comments, criticism, and questions are all appreciated.
After the first week, the nightmares stopped. It was all at once, like a switch had been turned off in his brain. The next night, his dreams were quiet.
Peace found himself walking down a path, like he usually was; that night it was a dirt path, in normal dirt colors, surrounded by the blurry impression of a grass plain. The air felt soft and neutral. The hairs on the back of his neck stoodd up. He'd gotten used to the nightmares. Having his blood up all the time. To fighting monsters, fighting himself, running from things he couldn't see. Death. Terror.
A breeze ran over the grass as that thought passed, running through his hair and igniting a fire in his limbs. His front paws hit the ground and he let himself go.
No words for a while.
Nothing changed. Wind in fur, smell of grass. Distant ache of human limbs.
Soft, soft, no exertion, still not tired. Anger. He snapped and barked at the air.
He wanted to feel something between his teeth. He wanted to feel something between his real teeth, ripping and snapping and straining like this.
He had gotten used to his dreams. Months of them. Every fear being pulled out of his head and made real. Real shadowy things- he could still feel a few of them skulking around when he was awake. Far off. Puffed up like cats.
They ran when he flashed his teeth.
Breeze turned fur and fluttered against his side- he leapt sideways, yelping, snapping at air. More anger than instinct. He expected Her.
She stood all silver and hard not-colors, half again as tall as him, eyes like dark pools down to the rippling effect when She lifted Her chin and lolled Her tongue. Then, quick as light, She ran.
Peace took off after her, wondering what this new game was.
Story: All Great Things
Colors: Famous #6 (And baby, when it's love, if it's not rough it isn't fun), Harvest Gold #3 (crisp breeze)
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (I Need A Break: When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night, he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.), Graffiti (Trick or Tweet, Image), Canvas
Word Count: 312
Rating: G
Warnings: Not really.
Summary: A bit of Peace adjusting to werewolfery, and a bit of indirect world-building I needed to ponder.
Comments, criticism, and questions are all appreciated.
After the first week, the nightmares stopped. It was all at once, like a switch had been turned off in his brain. The next night, his dreams were quiet.
Peace found himself walking down a path, like he usually was; that night it was a dirt path, in normal dirt colors, surrounded by the blurry impression of a grass plain. The air felt soft and neutral. The hairs on the back of his neck stoodd up. He'd gotten used to the nightmares. Having his blood up all the time. To fighting monsters, fighting himself, running from things he couldn't see. Death. Terror.
A breeze ran over the grass as that thought passed, running through his hair and igniting a fire in his limbs. His front paws hit the ground and he let himself go.
No words for a while.
Nothing changed. Wind in fur, smell of grass. Distant ache of human limbs.
Soft, soft, no exertion, still not tired. Anger. He snapped and barked at the air.
He wanted to feel something between his teeth. He wanted to feel something between his real teeth, ripping and snapping and straining like this.
He had gotten used to his dreams. Months of them. Every fear being pulled out of his head and made real. Real shadowy things- he could still feel a few of them skulking around when he was awake. Far off. Puffed up like cats.
They ran when he flashed his teeth.
Breeze turned fur and fluttered against his side- he leapt sideways, yelping, snapping at air. More anger than instinct. He expected Her.
She stood all silver and hard not-colors, half again as tall as him, eyes like dark pools down to the rippling effect when She lifted Her chin and lolled Her tongue. Then, quick as light, She ran.
Peace took off after her, wondering what this new game was.
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