Stalking quietly through the ruined sanctuary, the predator searched for game.
Behind the pulpit was an elaborate baptistery, raised up to a substantial height; though the scent of prey drifted down from the opening, the lacquered wood frustrated her attempts to scrabble up it, her claws failing to find purchase. Growling irritably, she prowled around to the side of the structure, seeking entry.
She found it in the form of an open door, leading to an antechamber that housed the control for the baptismal font and also served as a staging area for the baptistery. The higher-pitched sounds of prey emanated from further in, drawing the wolf through the little room with hardly a thought for the plywood cave around her; a rising hunger burned in her chest, and the need to satisfy it overwhelmed her better judgement. Regressing to the intellect of a hunting animal, she padded to the opposite portal, peering through.
The baptistery was surprisingly narrow, designed to be showy and yet hold perhaps two people at most. More or less resembling a waist-deep bathtub, it currently housed a little blonde cow and some other wriggling prey, the latter struggling to shrug out of the twine that bound her. Assisted by the petite morsel, the two exchanged pleasant little sounds that rolled over the wolf, absent any meaning; desire blazing in her core, she lunged forward, her enormous frame catching in the tiny doorway.
Alerted by the sound of the scrabbling wolf, the prey turned towards her, a bright smile on its adorable face.
“Are you stuck?” the little cow giggled, seizing on the humour of the moment after the exhausting battle. “We don’t need your help, sweet. They didn’t harm Kelly any, just tied her up.”
Whining as she fought to press free of the narrow doorframe, the wolf managed to slip one muscled shoulder by. Claws scraping against the steps of the baptistry, her paws slapped against the slick surface, searching a hold to pull herself through; excited by the delightful noises of the petite prey, her eyes lit-up with hunger, the beast salivating in anticipation of her meal.
“... Callie?” the smaller blonde tried again, alarmed by the frantic motion of the monstrous predator. “Are you alright?”
With a loud crunch, the doorway split and twisted, allowing the massive wolf to slide her other shoulder past the restraint. Using the frame as leverage, she steadily hauled herself forward, driven by the single-minded purpose of the hunger that possessed her.
“I don’t think that’s Callie,” the taller blonde muttered as she rose to a sitting position, tearing off the last of the twine that had been looped about her ankles.
“How many other werewolves do you know?” the little cow joked, though her brow furrowed in concern as watched the wolf thrash about.
Seizing the smaller girl by the waist, the taller blonde pulled her back and away as the monster burst out of the shattered portal, jaws snapping at empty air. Falling back onto the floor of the tub, the two women shuffled away as the wolf slipped down the steps, losing her footing as she crashed into the baptistery. Fighting to right herself, the beast’s paws scraped against the smooth material as her prey scrambled to reach the other door behind them; though frustrated by the awkward material, the creature still possessed an impossibly long reach, and she thrust out a claw towards the two women ⸻ then drew it back in a cry of pain, an arrow lodged in her enormous paw.
“This way, Callie!” an imposing, dark-haired archer called as she leapt down from the balcony, landing gracefully on the piled wreckage of smashed pews beneath. “Over here, girl. Your fight is with me.”
Growling ferociously as she snapped the arrow in half, the wound was already healing as the wolf seized the edge of the baptistery, hoisting herself up over the edge as she sought out the huntress with a murderous purpose. Angered by the interruption of her imminent feast, she reluctantly settled for the dark-haired woman’s stringier meat as an appetiser.
As soon as she hit the firmer ground of the hardwood floors, the bestial creature sprang forward on powerful limbs, lunging for the grounded archer. Tearing across the sanctuary at a terrifying speed, she was on top of the other amazon before she could fire more than a single arrow; though it embedded itself in her side, the monster ignored the pain in pursuit of her vengeance. Bearing down on the woman with her wicked fangs, her bite was thwarted by the bow itself, the huntress jamming it into her mouth as she held the werewolf back. Wrestling with each other, they fell to the ground, kicking splinters of wood in every direction.
Incensed, the wolf bit down hard, crunching the weapon between her jaws; freed from the obstruction, she lashed out with her claws, the sharp tips grazing the amazon’s skin, leaving red slashes across her forearms and abdomen. Howling with rage, the beast pressed her attack, seeking to devour her irritating opponent.
Rather than retreat, however, the dark-haired archer instead leapt forward, dodging inside the feral animal’s reach; though the monster’s arms wrapped around her in a powerful bearhug, it frustrated her claws and fangs as the woman pressed up tight against her, wrestling with her directly. Fighting for an angle of attack, the wolf wrenched her body to either side but it was no use; mumbling a series of unintelligible syllables, the woman clung tightly to her furry bulk, until a strange heaviness began to overtake the wolf’s body.
Her fury simmering as her limbs moved slower and slower, the monstrous beast overcome by a sudden torpor. Fighting against sleep, the drowsy creature shook her head repeatedly, trying to shake off whatever it was that swept through her. Releasing the huntress, she sank back onto her haunches, adopting a sitting position as she lost the energy to stand upright. As her vision blurred at the edges, she snarled threateningly at the woman, all her energy concentrated into simply remaining conscious.
Cautious of the not-quite-docile wolf, the two blondes joined up with their amazonian protector, all three observing the sleepy creature with concerned expressions.
“What did you do to her?” the taller of the pair asked.
“I struck her with a charm that would’ve put any man into a hundred-year coma,” the huntress remarked, placing herself between the other women and the growling wolf. “Despite her weakness to magic, she still possesses remarkable fortitude.”
“Is it hurting her?” the petite prey questioned, her big cow eyes filled with worry.
“Not my enchantment, no,” the dark-haired woman mused, glowering at the wolf as though she could see through her to some essential element buried within her core. “I can’t say the same for Bishop’s crude bit of magic.” Get faster updates on novelping dot com.
“We should break it as soon as we can, then,” the leggy blonde suggested in a firm tone. “I don’t want her to suffer.”
Shoulders bowing under the weight of her magical exhaustion, the wolf settled down onto the floor. Tucking her tail against her body, she rested her head on her paws; even in the grasp of the sorcerous lethargy, she still remained awake and guarded, her hungry eyes fixed on her favourite prey.
“I’m afraid it isn’t as easy as that,” the djinn muttered, the corners of her mouth creasing in an uneasy grimace. “It’s not the same sort of enchantment that he used on the children, or Jersey. The spell he’s shackled her with is much, much older; before even my time, in fact.”
“Then surely it’s reversible,” the little cow tried, sadness colouring her sweet soprano; wringing her hands together, she appeared as though she wanted to move towards the resting monster but was stayed by a healthy fear of her. “Something that old has to have been studied in depth, correct?”
“Mages are secretive by nature,” the dark-haired woman reminded her, crossing her arms over her chest as she considered the problem. “If some wizard knew how to break such an ancient magic, they wouldn’t have shared it with anyone else for fear of losing the power it could bring ⸻ and it is powerful, there’s no doubt about that. It draws its strength from an almost primordial terror, one that has lurked in the human consciousness since the dawn of their existence as a species.”
“But what does that mean for Callie?” the petite girl continued, the anxious tone to her voice steadily rising.
“It means she’s cursed,” the djinn shrugged, the defeated gesture filled with a mournful self-reprisal, “and there’s nothing I can do about it; it’d take me a few hundred years to even attempt to reverse it. Bishop’s death has solidified it to the point where it simply is Callie now, a foundational piece of her, and I’d wager that’s exactly what he intended.”
“What sort of curse?” the minicow demanded, pushing further. “In all the tales I’ve seen, there’s always a way to break them; if we know what it is, maybe we can work it out ourselves.”
Crossing her arms beneath her chest, the huntress offered the smaller girl a sympathetic look. “I hesitate to use the word on account of its problematic interpretation, but speaking literally it’s best-described as ‘lunacy’. Bishop has bound her reason and appetites to the moon; the former wanes and the latter waxes alongside the celestial body.”
Blinking away the onset of sleep, the wolf shuddered as her body defied her will, settling into as comfortable a position as it could manage. Her thoughts split between two warring needs, she desired to escape to her den and rest even as a pit of gnawing hunger roiled around her core. So close to warm prey, she rose up on her haunches to continue her hunt, but it became a languorous sort of stretch that only moved her a few inches closer. A fastidious creature, the blood on her paws was starting to annoy her, and so she lapped at it distractedly while hoping the little cow might move to within range of her claws on her own; shooting the petite girl a pouting look, it drew her prey a step or two closer before the taller blonde held her back.
“What now?” the middle of the three inquired, turning to the huntress, her hands resting on the smallest’s shoulders. “We can’t just leave her like this. She’s a danger to anyone who stumbles across her.”
“True, but I’m reluctant to take her back home,” the djinn sighed, eyeing the beast with a look of pity. “If she can’t even recognise Jersey, then I fear for how she’d treat Xena, or the children.”
“How do we even shift her in the first place?” the other woman wondered aloud. “She’ll claw at anyone that gets close.”
“And there’s still the matter of returning the hostages,” the huntress replied, pointing out another pressing problem in their sea of difficulties.
“Whatever we decide, we should do it quickly,” the minicow rejoined, only barely holding herself back from reaching out to her wolf. “After all that gunfire, it won’t be long until someone comes to investigate.”
“That won’t be until the morning,” the djinn assured her. “Sensory dampening on such a large scale was very tiring, but it’ll keep prying eyes away until regular hours.”
“You can do that?” the petite girl returned in surprise. “Deafen a whole church? Just like that?”
“Obfuscation is a necessary element for djinn,” the huntress explained with a waive of her hand. “Baffling sight and sound is trivial, though it’s quite taxing as one increases either the scale or duration.”
Tapping a finger against her lip in thought, the little cow mulled something over. “That gives me an idea,” she started, then turned to the third woman. “Can you call the vet?”
As Kelly and Megan saw to the matter of the safe return of the captive children, Jersey and Genie dealt with the wolf.
Summoning Jenna and the vet tech who had initially discovered Callie in the cages (whose name was Alicia, she would learn later), the djinn employed a clever magical misdirection to convince the two to assist her in loading the wolf into the back of the veterinary hospital’s van. Disguising the mess in the sanctuary as a number of animal carcasses, Genie led the two women to believe that she was something of an expert ranger who needed urgent help in returning a cornered wolf back to the wild.
After being assured that Callie had been sedated as much as possible, the techs settled on a plan to use ‘bait’ as a lure to shepherd the enormous predator into the van. With nothing else around that could entice the wolf besides her favourite prey, an amused Genie settled for carrying Jersey backwards through the building while the techs encouraged Callie to follow after the ‘juicy steak’. The little cow suffered it well, all things considered, but the magical obscuration left the group with a seemingly insurmountable problem once they had maneuvered the monstrous wolf to the outer doors.
“She won’t budge for anything but the bait,” Jenna mused, observing Callie from a cautious distance. “You might as well chuck it into the back of the van, and we can close it up after her.”
“I would prefer to be slightly gentler with ‘it’,” Genie returned wryly, cradling the silent minicow in her arms; the two exchanged an entertained look, the latter dutifully executing her role as a thick cut of beef. Read the latest chapters at novelping(.)com.
“Then set it down gently,” Alicia advised with just a hint of sarcasm. “I’d prefer not to gorge her, but I don’t see any way to shift her without the meat.”
“Can we not herd her as we have?” the djinn countered, understandably wary of the idea of locking Jersey in with the moon-addled Callie.
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Jenna replied, shaking her head. “She’s tolerating the broken catchpoles rather well, perhaps on account of her lethargy, but if we try prodding her with something I imagine it would wake her right up in a way that none of us would like.”
“What’s the hold-up, anyhow?” Alicia questioned, eyeing Jersey uninterestedly. “You planning on saving that for your own dinner?”
“Not exactly,” Genie hedged, heroically burying her laughter under her tongue, finding the situation to be darkly comical.
“Then let the big girl have it,” Jenna insisted, understandably worried about leaving the wolf unsecured for too long. “Maybe a snack will put her in a better mood for the drive.”
The djinn made to protest again, but Jersey drew her attention with a slight gesture. Holding as still as possible in order to avoid taxing the concealing enchantment, she kept her voice to a tiny whisper.
“Let’s try it,” the minicow offered, putting on a much braver face than she had to feel.
“Jersey,” Genie hissed reproachfully, understandably concerned for her wellbeing. “You saw what she was like in the baptistery. If I leave you alone in the van with her, she might tear you apart.”
“Or she might not,” the petite bimbo argued back, her exasperated expression communicating her understanding that her claim was baseless. “The familiar contract still stands, right?”
“Sure,” the djinn allowed, “but Callie isn’t in her right mind. I doubt she has the capacity to honour it.”
“That’s where I think you’re wrong,” she rejoined, outlining her rather shaky ‘plan,’ such as it was. “The curse is supposed to magnify her ‘appetites,’ but that doesn’t mean it’s limited to her appetite for violence.”
“I would prefer not to test that theory on you,” Genie warned, adopting a stern tone against the other girl’s well-meaning but dangerous idea. “If Callie wakes from her episode after having harmed you, she’ll never forgive herself ⸻ and neither will I for having allowed you to do something so foolish.”
“We can’t just leave her here,” the bimbo protested. “There’s no telling when she’ll snap out of it, and I’d hate to think of what could happen if she shakes off your enchantment.”
The argument continued back and forth for some time, the vet techs looking on bemusedly as Genie appeared to fight with the cow she was holding. Eventually Jersey’s stubbornness won out, assisted by the simple fact that the djinn was incapable of refusing direct commands from her mistress. Leaning on that ironclad relationship, the bimbo forced the amazon to load her into the back of the van.
Alone on a soft-ish carpet spread out over a textured metal floor, Jersey nervously attempted her rather ill-advised scheme. Kneeling, she faced away from the doors and wriggled out of her winter leggings, kicking them off alongside her booties. Her panties went with, followed by her puffy coat and the long-sleeved dress she’d been wearing underneath. Having divested herself of her clothing, the minicow braced herself on all fours, silently glad that the vet techs wouldn’t be able to see what she was doing.
A predator trained on sound and motion, Callie’s ears perked up as the bimbo began to moo encouragingly, coaxing the wolf towards the van. Leaning forward onto her voluminous chest, Jersey waggled her bum from side to side, hoping to arouse one of her lover’s less-violent ‘appetites’ ⸻ or at least, one whose roughness she could withstand. Doing her best to appear as delicious and inviting as possible, the minicow put her all into the act, rolling her hips and mooing as loudly as she dared.
Cautiously, the wolf set her paws onto the floor of the van, the shocks creaking beneath her considerable weight. Snarling a warning at the techs behind her, the monstrous beast steadily clambered into the vehicle, shaking off the sleep that had nearly claimed her. Alert and hungry, she loomed over the petite girl, the gnawing sensation in her gut becoming a consuming ache as she followed the delectable morsel deeper into the van. Bearing down on the little cow, a threatening growl rumbled in her chest as she seized hold of her favourite prey; claws gliding across tender flesh, the wordless desire inside her urged her to plunge them into the soft meat, to rip and tear and delight in the pursuit of bestial savagery ⸻ but entranced as she was by the mooing tart, she hesitated.
Sensing the conflict, Jersey attempted to turn around, murmuring calming phrases to her wolf, but the clack of the closing doors startled the creature. Barking her displeasure, the captured beast set her weight on the back of the little cow, holding her down with her bulk and claws. Snapping her jaws, her maw of razor-sharp teeth only an inch away from the minicow’s throat, the massive predator sniffed at her hair, taking in her scent, seeking to discover whether she'd been fooled; as disoriented as she was by the enchantments, the wolf still recognised the smell of her mate. Lapping at Jersey’s face with her broad and warm tongue, she crushed the other girl against her in a powerful hug.
“It’s okay,” she cooed soothingly, reaching up to pat the searching muzzle. “I’m right here. You’re safe.”
In the darkness of the van’s compartment, the magical torpor once again began to weigh on the beast. Warm-enough in the metal box, the wolf contented herself with indulging in her favourite; suppressing her hunger, she instead gave into her thirst.
When the story was related to her later, Callie had turned pink with embarrassment at the way Genie had described the violent rattling of the vehicle, the rhythmic rocking of the compartment becoming so strong at times that Jenna had been forced to stop the van entirely lest the swaying motion cause an accident. Either way, the wolf was ferried home without incident, rewarding Jersey’s ingenuity with a couple more puppies.