Friar's Cap
Nuzzler
Floo Ferret
AnticipationA cold breeze whispered through the copse of gnarled oak, gently bending the taller grasses. Swirling bits of dead leaves and dried heather, remnants of autumn’s dying glory, rose and fell along paths that that wandered across the clearing, stretching towards the fading sun. He stood motionless, not watching the sunset, but sampling and tasting the myriad of scents carried across the lake on the westerly wind.
Head held proudly high, neck muscles straining and tight with unaccustomed weight, he surveyed his domain, a blurry, surrealistic landscape of grays, faded yellows, dull metallic blues, and dim blue-greens.
Two more days, he thought, looking back towards where the waxing moon would soon appear.
Will they make it tonight?Two years earlier, the three friends had set a goal, a dream rooted in desire to help yet another friend, sown by innate ability, and nurtured by youth’s unwillingness to accept defeat. Research, struggle, and practice had finally culminated in success, at least for him, yet without the help of the other two, he was uncertain as to his ability to complete their mission. Doubt sparred with the confidence the last twenty-four hours had given him.
He snorted and tossed his head; the click of antler against branch seemed unnaturally loud. Twitching at the noise, he fought the instinct to jump and turn towards the sound he knew he had made. Ears shifted spastically, instincts so ingrained in his form as to be uncontrollable.
Heightened senses marked the change, bringing with them a flood of sounds and scents so intense they nearly overwhelmed him. Pride in his ability to change at will - this was, after all, his third consecutive transfiguration – caused him to toss his head again, and snort at the sky. Certain things, he noted silently to himself, seemed to be instinctive based on form.
I’ll have to remember to ask Peter and Sirius, when they master this, he thought, finding it difficult to concentrate on what he wanted to remember.
Another effect of form, I guess. I wonder if we missed something, something that would keep more of me
in this form. If only we dared ask more questions!Confused by his muddled thoughts, and inability to formulate them clearly, he relaxed, and let the tug of his body drive his actions. Surveying the rock strewn field down to the lakeshore, he stood motionless, an occasional twist of his head, as he searched for any sign of movement, the only indication he was not stone.
I could never stand this still and quiet! he exulted, amazed, as he sampled the crisp air one last time.
Now run! His mind sent the command to his muscles, letting the instincts of his new form take over. Though he started at a gentle lope, by the time he reached the edge of the lake he was moving at a dead run, fighting the urge to slow and sample the surroundings. His eyes darted back and forth across his path, more and more wildly, as he entered territory not fully analyzed, desperately attempting to focus, and clear the blur.
Ignoring his racing heartbeat, he continued around the rim of the lake, feeling only the rush of air past his hurtling body, scenting the rapidly changing odors of the rotting vegetation along side the clean smell of the water itself. First uncomfortably, then with increasing difficulty, he maintained his pace.
The fight, he realized, was not between his physical resources, but his mental ones. His body was well able to continue the effort, but the instincts of the stag insinuated into his mind, blocking the goals his human reason set for his body. Swamped by the noises he was creating, his hearing tried to shut down; his ears stopped their incessant rotation. His heartbeat pulsed throughout his body, the surging of blood sensed more than heard, impinging on his eardrums with sufficient force to block the shot-like reports from the fallen branches, snapping beneath his pounding hooves.
Entering the oaks where he had started, he skidded to a sudden stop; his rear legs collapsed, dropping his rump to the frost hardened ground. Struggling back to his feet, he stood proudly, head down, not attempting to lift the unbalancing rack of antlers. Each expansion of his lungs brought in a large volume of cold air, invigorating his body.
Two more days, and then… For the first time, the full realization of what they were attempting hit him; for the first time a twinge of fear, quickly quashed, coursed through him, translated by his altered body into a command to listen, and smell; instinctive commands quickly quelled by his human side.
Is Remus right? Is he only a danger to humans in his werewolf guise? What if there’s a difference between a stag, and a human with the form of a stag? What if…James’ human mind smashed his doubts. His stag form snorted and tossed his head in pride.
Two more days…I will reveal to you a love potion, without medicine, without herbs, without any witch’s magic; if you want to be loved, then love. - Hecaton of Rhodes
Round Two ~ Future Ferret Challenges
evlpez Round Two ~ Future Ferret Challenges Oct 23 2004, 01:43 AM
Oct 23 2004, 01:43 AM
Note to ferrets: Remember that you are writing fan fiction as though you are the Floo-Between user you've chosen. This means that if you've chosen Snape, you are writing as though Snape is writing fan fiction, not as though he is a part of the story. Each character may write as many submissions as they wish for this challenge, as long as each submission is significantly different from their others. You must choose one of the above missions for each submission. The deadline for submissions is Wednesday December 1st.
