The Misty, Purple Cat

Chapter One-Twenty-Four ✎ - Short Story: The Winter Wolf Legend (now edited)

     It was a cold night, in the middle of winter, the sky in a blaze with the setting sun's light. There was easily four feet of snow in the woods, yet the young woman kept going, leaving deep tracks as she ran. She ran as though she were frightened, even leaving the nearby town. But she was not frightened.

     There was a legend with the woods, the reason no one dared trying to make a house or expanding the town that way. Even the feral cats and dogs avoided it, yet this seemingly foolish woman ran, deep into the heart of the cold forest. Her long, white hair almost blended completely with the pure-white snow.

     She never glanced behind her, sure that whatever was chasing her was still there as the moon started to rise. No sound could be heard but her own ragged breathing and hurried steps as she entered a clearing.

     "Too early. Not that it matters," the woman murmured. "Being early is better than being late."

     She waited, standing in the freezing night, as the moon slowly reached its highest zenith in the sky.

     "Winter has come, it seems," a male voice said behind the woman, suddenly.

     Turning to the young man with brown hair, the woman replied, "Wolf has come, it seems to me." She had a playful smirk on her lips. "Hello, Wolf. I for a moment thought you were going to be late."

     Wolf looked offended, and pointed a finger at himself. "Me? No, Winter, you are mistaken. Only you could ever be late."

     Winter shook her head. "That was one time, and that was neigh five hundred years ago."

     "You never think it matters, do you?"

     "No." Winter watched the full moon, seeing its silver light shine on the snow. "Are you ready? Let's get the ritual done so we can scare the rest of the night."

     Wolf nodded. "Agreed."

     The two started to change, to grow fur. Winter grew white fur, which blended into the snowy surroundings perfectly. Wolf's dark, brown fur made him stand out among the light, snowy night. With a growled, "Ready," from both lycanthropes, they ran for the small town Winter ran from earlier.

     Winter found a suitable human first. She grabbed him with her sharp claws, careful not to scratch him. Turning him early wouldn't do, would it?

She heard a scream off to her left, and noticed Wolf had also caught a male human. Looking back down to hers, she said softly, "Hold on tight." She ran, the male giving a screech of surprise from her grasp. His fear scent was strong, it's scent pouring off the human. Winter heard Wolf behind her.

The clearing they shifted in was where they returned. As they entered, purple-blue flames erupted around the clearing. The humans were released, but they couldn't flee. They huddled in the center, freezing from the cold, as Winter and Wolf circled them, muttering in an ancient language. Suddenly, as one, they leaped at the humans, rushing at them from two sides. Before they collided, both veered off to their left, scratching the humans as they did it.

The ritual was almost finished.

The humans screamed as they grew fur and their skeletons changed to that of a werewolf. Then they howled, with Winter and Wolf howling, too. One male, the one Winter grabbed, turned white. The other mimicked Wolf's fur, and their fear released them.

They were now this year's Winter Wolf lycanthropes.

The rest of the night was scaring the humans like sheep, herding them left and right, some giving in to shock.

It didn't matter. It would happen again in a year, the two males dead. They never lasted a year.

—— —— ——
So this was something I started back in early December of 2015. I mean to finish it, but I never did.
Edit: Minor edits on Oct. 29, 2018.