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Insatiable Hunger

@cahillkalani-blog / cahillkalani-blog.tumblr.com

@kalaniautorepair
40 || Alpha || Mechanic [rp account for Touch of Stange RP]
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open 24 hours || Tad & Cahill

The sound of the bike’s engine approaching the house warned him ahead of time that something was coming, and, until the guy actually came close enough that Tad could see him, he’d been slightly worried it was some warden or a teenager who was messing around and probably going to die. Needless to say, he breathed easier when it was his mechanic friend who showed up! 
Tad had been prepared for something at his messages, but not him coming onto the porch with a puffy bag slung over his shoulder. “Cahill? What can I do for you?” 
Was this normal for people? Probably not. But he was still grinning and opening the door wider, beckoning the large man inside. Having actual people come into a space that only hosted himself and his frogs was strange, but the slight oddness was more than made up for with how glad he was to see the other. They’d only met once before, but here he was, clasping his gloved hands together and trying not to look overly pleased. 
“Come in and make yourself comfortable.” 

Social etiquette likely dictated that everything Cahill was doing in this moment was wrong. Likely so, given that he hadn’t actually asked if he could come over and wash his clothes at Tad’s or even mentioned that it was his intent. He’d just kind of confirmed that he had a washing machine and then decided that was enough of a confirmation for him to deem it a good idea to show up right away.

When the door opened and Tad greeted him, he was responding with a wide smile and bit of a wave with the hand that wasn’t currently holding his duffel. The instinct was to give a hug, but given the reaction after just bumping him last time, he quelled the urge for the time being. “Hey, Tad. Sorry for just showing up--probably should’ve mentioned that before I just did it.” It was a little late for that now.

Regardless, Tad was opening the door enough for Cahill to come in and he didn’t hesitation to accept the invitation. He set the duffel down just inside the door, at least for the time being, because if showing up unannounced wasn’t rude than it was definitely rude to immediately demand that he be allowed to wash his clothes.

“Thanks. I appreciate it. How’re you?” Pleasantries could be gotten out of the way he could be rude and ask about using him for his washing machine. But there was also the fact that he wanted to catch up and enjoyed knowing how his friends were.

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baby, don’t cry | Douglas&Cahill

The muddy gravel of the shore felt miraculous and Douglas scrambled to his feet. “Where is it where is it where is it,” he mumbled, searching the ground for the knife he’d brought along. The moonlight glinted off of the blade on the ground and Douglas grabbed for the handle whispering his thanks. He looked up to see if there was any way he could stop it from here without hurting the other man and he froze.
The man who had saved him was being torn apart- no. The man who had saved him was convulsing, his body turning into something so clearly inhuman, something just as monstrous at the thing that had nearly drowned him. He took a step back and stared as the two creatures grappled each other and the former man-thing pushed the water-thing down. Douglas looked around, trying to find the best way to escape. Maybe he- it?- had helped him but it could just as easily turn and come back to kill him. Maybe that had been its plan the entire time: two meals for the price of one. But before it had changed, it didn’t seem cruel or malicious. He had seemed like a man who was risking his life to help him.
The large hand on the end of the monster’s tail curled around and grabbed onto the wolf creature’s jaw and began attempting to pull at it. Before he consciously made the decision, Douglas found himself throwing the knife at the monster. It curved through the air and bounced off of the monster’s back. It didn’t seem hurt but it snarled loudly and seemed distracted, at least for a moment.
“You need to get out of the water!” he shouted, and began to look around the ground for any good rocks he could throw.

Fuck. Fuck. The thing was strong. The unreasoning, violent sort of creature that thrived on a struggle. For as strong as Cahill knew he was, he felt outmatched as long as they were in the natural habitat of the thing. While they were both in the water, he would be fighting a losing battle. He’d managed to dig his claws into the creature’s neck, but it seemed to just give the thing more motivation to fight back. He hadn’t seen the tail coming until it was too late, the sharp claws--teeth?--of the thing latching into his skin and attempting to pry his jaw open. 

It was winning, too. His own grip on the thing tightened and he could feel blood. He could smell it. Despite struggling against the hold it had on his jaw he could feel it pulling ever so slightly further, the feeling as though it was going to pop pushing back into his temples.

He growled, and the sound mingled for a moment with the creature’s own snarl as it’s grip loosened. Cahill didn’t need much more time than that, his claws digging through flesh enough to wound it--not kill it, unfortunately--and the hold it had on it’s jaw released. If anything, he was nearly certain that the only result he’d gotten was to piss it off even more. 

The man at the bank was yelling, and it was only then that he noticed he was still there. He’d hoped that he would have been smart enough to run. Without too much hesitation, Cahill heeded his warning, though it was less for his own protection and more for Douglas’. There wasn’t nearly enough time for them all to get away from the thing, and Cahill wasn’t certain it would let them, but he could make it to shore before it had regained it’s balance and came after him. It gave him enough time to plant himself in front of the man, momentarily coming face to face with him before he was turning, squaring his body and letting another growl emanate from deep in his throat. 

Why couldn’t a full moon ever pass smoothly?

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baby, don’t cry | Douglas&Cahill

The hand pulled Douglas under the water and closed his eyes as the cold surged around him. His lungs were burning and he clawed desperately at the giant fingers digging into his chest. Please, God, please save me, he prayed for the first time in he didn’t know how long. Don’t let me die here. Just as the last few bubbles of air left his lips, there was a loud noise and he felt another hand grabbing him. He struggled briefly before feeling the emotions coming off of the figure next to him: muffled but there, unlike this other creature dragging him deeper into the river.
His head broke the surface and he gasped loudly, pulling as much air into his lungs as he could. There was a brief moment in which his only thought was: my phone is ruined, before his dazed mind focused in again on the situation at hand. There was a man next to him, tall and very muscular and yelling something at him. “What?” he shouted, trying to be heard of the noise of the creature splashing in what seemed like frustration. “We need to get to shore!”
Swimming was difficult in sodden jeans, but he kicked as best as he could to the edge of the river, which seemed much farther away than it should be. He turned to look back at the man who had pulled him away from the monster and saw the creature itself rising up behind him. It looked almost like a large dog except for the giant grimace of teeth and the four-fingered hand at the end of its tail whipping at the other man in the water.
“Look out!” He couldn’t tell if he’d heard him and he focused on kicking harder to try and get away. If he got to shore he could find his knife or a rock or something to use against whatever this thing was.

Killing had become common recently. The loup garou. A hunter. Jude. He had always been the one to try and solve problems with diplomacy rather than violence, but it seemed like tension in the town was rising every day and situations erupted into something far less avoidable without being able to bring them to a manageable level. It wasn’t regret so much as disappointment that he carried around lately. Cahill would have, if possible, avoided killing at all costs.

Then he found himself, again, in situations like this. Where the creature that broke through the surface of the water looked nothing short of murderous. He had come to know the difference between something that could be reasoned with and something that simply needed to be stopped, and as fine as that line often was, there was no mistaking the intent here. With as much effort as he could, he was shoving Douglas closer to the shore and moving that way himself. Once the man was closer, he put a slight bit of distance between them. Enough to make it so it couldn't target them both at once. 

Look out!

He turned back towards where the thing had emerged in time to see it lunge towards him but not fast enough to move. Enhanced reflexes or not, it had been fast. There was hesitation on his part that lasted only a few seconds. Stay in his human form and attempt to best the thing or risk terrifying the man he’d pulled out of the water even more and guarantee a bit of a fairer fight. The second option won out as soon as teeth and claws were going for his face and in a matter of seconds he was shifting. The full moon hadn’t risen yet, but it was close enough that the shift was as close to instantaneous as it ever got. Painless. Easy. Like returning to something that felt more right than the time he spent passable as a human.

At least now he could match claw for claw and tooth for tooth. As the creature latched onto him, he was returning the favor and twisting his larger frame, using momentum and his superior strength against the thing in order to push it back towards the ground. He was more focused on that than he was the man that, he hoped, had chance to get to the shore by now.

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Here Little Demon Piggy || Cahill & Margo

Margo liked to think that she wasn’t a particularly materialistic person, she’d once gotten her phone stolen and let that go…after yelling about it for a week. Of course, she also liked to think that guinea pigs weren’t evil but it seemed like she was learning a whole lot of new things. The guinea pig had nearly taken her finger when she grabbed it, and the passive aggressive messages spelled out in the hay wasn’t helping anything. At least now some animal-loving sucker could both take the little devil off her hands and get it to talk. “Okay,” She crouched down, eye-level to her new guinea pig enemy, “I’ll ask you one last time. Where did your friends take the goods?” A single, deep wheek resounded through Margo’s small apartment; he wasn’t going to talk.
“Screw you, you little thief. I hope you go to guinea pig hell for this,” she sneered, “I’m going to ruin your life.” At any other point in Margo’s life, she might have been a bit concerned that she was speaking to a guinea pig, but not now. Ashford had been filled with its fair share of oddities, the fact that some people were calling it Ashkent instead was just the first example of that. She fell onto her sofa with a loud groan, letting her anger simmer. The guinea pig–or demon, as Margo was sure that it probably was–wheeked, as if to mock her. “Shut up,” she spat back. The damn thing was enjoying this a lot more than Margo wanted him to. 
When the doorbell finally broke the silence of Margo’s apartment, she welcomed it. Bolting to her door to fling it open with desperation. “About time you showed u-” she froze, her face right at someone’s chest. Looking up, she finally set her eyes on a face. People were always taller than Margo, but this man was something else. “Holy fu-I mean, w-welcome. Come in.” She gulped, gesturing to the inside of her apartment. “The suspect is in the cage over there.”  

Maybe there were times when Cahill turned into an unintentional broken record when it came to protecting others, but it was one of the things that always seemed worth it. There was, in some ways, just an innate sense of ‘everything is worth it’, including guinea pigs and their tiny bodies. How else were they supposed to protect themselves if there wasn’t someone there to do it for them? Even if it meant protecting them from ladies whose DVDs they stole. Admittedly, it was an odd situation to find oneself in, but not the strangest he’d ever been dropped in the middle of. His life was far too strange to label something as simple as going to someone’s house to possibly adopt their guinea pig as the strangest.

With Dave comfortably nestled in his little pocket hanging around Cahill’s neck, partially tucked in his jacket, he was parking his bike on the street and heading towards the door at the address he was given. There were times that this was probably a poor choice. Going to any stranger’s house whom you had only talked to online could lead to negative outcomes. Despite the fact that he towered over the majority of people and had an incredible amount of strength, there was still cause for concern. Hunters and the like didn’t much care about size as they did species.

As soon as the door opened, Cahill was even more conscious of his size, his already partially hunched position becoming more pronounced as he looked down at the woman that stood well under a foot shorter than him. Pushing his hands into his pocket, he was giving her a smile and doing his best to appear at least moderately normal sized. “Sorry for taking so long.” He wasn’t sure that it had been that long at all, but she seemed upset at how quickly he had moved so it was worth apologizing for. As he stepped inside, he was giving a quick glance around the room to check and see if anything seemed threatening. Aside from the woman in front of him, there wasn’t much that gave him reason to be concerned. He almost asked why she just had a cage for a guinea pig laying around, but he let that point go and glanced towards the suspect in question.

“This little guy?” He asked, pointing as his eyebrows rose and he looked back at her.

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baby, don’t cry | Douglas&Cahill

Barely two minutes into the woods, Douglas was aware that this was a terrible idea. Really just blatantly stupid, there were no excuses. The light from his phone bounced across the tree trunks around him and his fingers tightened around the handle of the knife he’d brought from his kitchen. The body had been found that morning: a man, so far unidentified, early-forties, missing his teeth, nails, and eyes. The waterlogged corpse had been taken to the morgue and they would get the results whenever Regan finished with it. 
There were always weird and terrifying things happening in Ashkent Creek, but this one in particular stood out to Douglas. He remembered nights spent curled up on the couch during a power outage with Caoimhe, the two of them telling scary stories until they just passed out. He vividly remembered one of hers, the light of the candles casting half her face in shadow as she told him about something which lived in water and left its victims in a similar state as this man. He had forgotten about it until now. 
Clues about Caoimhe turned up so rarely that Douglas blindly charged  toward them, and he only regretted it now as he followed the river deeper into the forest. The knife felt smaller and more fragile than it had seemed in his kitchen. After a few minutes more walking, he began to hear a soft noise, and with a jolt he recognized it as an infant’s cry. 
“What the hell?” He hurried forward, doing his best not to trip on the rocks which were faintly illuminated by his phone. “Hey? Is someone out here? Are you okay?” He didn’t feel anything, no sign of anyone else’s fear or other emotions. The noise was loudest right by the river and he cast the light across it. “Hel-”
He was cut off as what felt like a tree trunk slammed into his chest. Large claws wrapped around his torso and began to drag him into the water. He swung desperately with the knife, only to drop it onto the muddy bank as the arm rising from the water shook him viciously. He screamed as it pulled him into the cold water, his feet leaving trenches in the ground behind him.

Cahill could still hear the sound of a baby crying, and it was caution rather than worry that prompted his movements. He’d been out there long enough to know that a cry was often misleading. There was no fear or anything amiss. Nothing he could smell or hear. Just a cry; the kind that wanted to lure someone in. That’s when he heard the voice of someone calling out if anyone was there and his pace quickened. He wasn’t sure if it was another portion of some kind of trickery, but there was enough sound of sincerity in the call that he assumed the second voice was the one that the first intended to catch the attention of.

He had heard just the beginning part of a yell that was cut off and instantly he was sprinting, adrenaline pumping and the slowly rising moon adding to his level of energy. There were times that he considered avoiding the woods altogether. Every time it seemed as though there was always something more devious lurking. Though, he supposed that others could say the same about his own appearance. He was only out there to hunt and because changing was unavoidable. Sometimes, he was the thing that went bump in the night. 

Not now, and he was making it out of the treeline in time to see a creature of some kind dragging a man towards the water’s edge and under it’s surface. He’d never seen anything like, but if there was one thing that he’d gotten used to in Ashkent, it was the unexpected. He never pretended to know all manner of supernatural out there and he wasn’t going to act as if he knew what they were capable of. This one, clearly, was capable of dragging a grown man into the water without too much difficulty. Without hesitation, he was in the water, running the first few steps before diving forward.

He could feel the pull on him, too. The moon as it slowly started to peek over the horizon. He’d change soon, and it wasn’t necessarily unwanted. As long as he got the man free, he could put some distance between them and the water and, perhaps, have enough time to make his leave so as not to terrify the man more for an evening. As soon as he was close enough, he was wrapping a hand around the man’s arm and pulling him closer, at least enough that he could position his own body in a way to kick at the creature holding onto him. It was strong, but the shock more than anything likely resulted in it releasing Douglas. It wasn’t much of a window for them to get away, but at least they could push through the surface and give them a moment. 

Drawing a deep breath, he tried to pull Douglas closer again. “Get to shore!”

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insert innuendo here || Darcy&Cahill

Darcy was fairly eager to get out of the garage and out into the open, not because she had any particular issue with greasestains or power tools, and definitely not because of any issue with Cahill himself, but purely because the feeling of being around fae wasn’t something she had learned to ignore yet, so it kind of put her in a state of permanent tension, like a supernatural form of sensory overload. Still, she smiled politely and played along.
“I figured. I mean, the balance alone…” Darcy chuckled. She was wondering if she had just got in over her head. “Doesn’t your um… friend? Girlfriend? Work at the hospital? The person we saw the other day? You mean to say she’s never lectured you about the whole ‘we call them donor cycles thing?” She supposed plenty of things could be dangerous if you weren’t careful, but this was something that made Darcy glad she had a supernatural healing factor and super strength. She would be able to get the excitement out of riding without being worried about being injured.
“Well, either way, I still wanna learn. And I guess you don’t seem like the kind of person who gets easily deterred by lectures. Which is good. It’s good to be strong-willed sometimes. We can go slow, okay? I’m in your hands.” She wondered how Inez felt about motorcycles. They weren’t exactly in the stage in their relationship where Inez got any real say in what Darcy did, but she’d hate to have a fight about something like this.
“Aw, enough with the kid gloves, okay? I want to ride on the big, badass motorcycle with you. Let’s do it.” If nothing else, at least she was eager.

“Eliza?” He turned back towards her as she asked the question, not bothering to correct her on the term girlfriend. It was easier to just let her think that than to say that she was actually his beta. They were family, certainly, and close enough that intimacy was not unexpected. But no more romantic than he was with anyone else. Cahill didn’t quite feel the need to draw that line, though. It wasn’t like it was hurting anyone for that to be believed, and it was easier for that to be the reality than it was explaining pack dynamics. “Yeah, she does.” There was an edge of pride in his voice when he said it, because she did work at the hospital, and she was damn good at it. If he could, he’d take any opportunity to talk about the accomplishments of his family.

With a shake of his head, he was laughing and shrugging it off. “She probably doesn’t like it, but I figure: she’s taken one of my organs already, so she’s more than ready to take the rest.” Without context, that probably sounded odd, but he was already walking outside and didn’t necessarily launch into a life story about the time he donated his kidney to his nephew or the fact that Eliza was the one that took it out and transplanted it. “Besides, I’m pretty sturdy. I might come out on top even if I get in an accident.” 

Motioning towards where his bike was parked, he was pushing his hands into his pockets and giving her a minute to get accustomed to the idea of actually riding it. The larger frame of his bike wasn’t necessarily standard, but very little of his bike remained that was stock. He had a slightly smaller one--better suited to her size--inside that he could get started with a few minutes of love if she wanted to try riding on her own. But he would take her out first before shoving her on a bike on her own and letting her loose. It wouldn’t be him that ended up donating organs if that was the plan.

As he pushed his hair back, he was fastening it up so that he didn’t have it blowing in her face and glanced her way. “Want a helmet? I think I have one in the garage.” Not that he planned on crashing, but he also hadn’t intended to run into her before. Sometimes things just happened. It was better to be protected than to hope for the best and end up being wrong. Walking over to it, he was straddling the bike and straightening it up, pushing the kickstand up and nodding her way as he pushed it into gear and kick started it. The resulting roar of the engine still brought a smile to his face, even if he’d heard it a thousand times. “Hop on.” He prompted, raising his voice to be heard over the engine.

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I’ve noticed something about people who make a difference in the world: They hold the unshakable conviction that individuals are extremely important, that every life matters. They get excited over one smile. They are willing to feed one stomach, educate one mind, and treat one wound. They aren’t determined to revolutionize the world all at once; they’re satisfied with small changes. Over time, though, the small changes add up. Sometimes they even transform cities and nations, and yes, the world.

Beth Clark, Kisses from Katie (via wordsnquotes)

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To Date or Not to Date || Evelyn&Cahill

There was something that would always be incredibly satisfying about being at least mostly the center of attention in even relatively small settings. As much as she had loathed the parties back home due to how boring everyone had been - especially once she’d realized that there was more than a few differences between them and her - she had adored being paid such great attention by people from all over. So this dinner outing would surely be good - especially since Cahill had already proven himself to be more than halfway decent at conversations online, and Evelyn could only hope that he would be just as good in person. Online one had more time to carefully write things out, after all.
“Yes, I believe I can figure out what you meant.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth. “However, I am myself, and there is no point in lying about who I am when you can find out a lot about me with a simple Google search. Give me one moment,” she said, pulling out her phone and quickly typing in a search before holding up her phone, “and those are just to do with my eighteenth birthday. There’s many more where those came from.” She sighed briefly, switching her phone off and slipping it into her purse. “Point being, lying about who you are seems pointless to me. One should have pride over shame - at least mostly.” Though she’d learned not to give away everything about herself, but Cahill did not need to know that. Evelyn had never been ashamed for what she was - though her father had seemingly wished for some shame on that part - but introducing herself and straightaway outing her species was not the smartest of choices.
Besides, she had already outed herself not wholly on purpose to both Cece and Marley not too long past. Two people who she felt as though she could trust for the most part, but there was always the lingering doubt when someone was not just what she was - but thankfully neither Cece nor Marley were wholly human - Cece was far closer to human than Marley, but she was not a simple one - which made her at least a bit less boring than the others.
Until she knew more about Cahill, she was not even about to touch the idea of outing herself in any form. “Shop?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow. “I am guessing you do not mean some sort of retail place, am I correct?” She let out a soft sigh through her teeth. “What is it that you do?” An inflection placed on her voice - fake interest for the time being, but a genuine desire to learn more about the man sitting across from her.
“Oh, this?” Evelyn raised an eyebrow, glancing down at her dress. “Nothing fancy at all, not a worry.” She ran her finger up and down the menu, trying to figure out what she would order this time. Not that the food mattered too much at all. It never had, especially for social functions. “Glad you like it though.” She let her lips curve into a smile and tapped her fingernails against the menu. “What were you thinking of ordering? Also, I forgot to ask - but do you do spicy food, or does excessive heat bother you? Personally, I can go either way.” She flipped her menu shut. “I will likely order a curry with tofu - if you want something to test for the first time, you can do something like Pad Thai with chicken or beef. Usually safe, but sometimes safety is boring.” She smirked. “But either way, this place does a good job, I have found.”

Maybe it was because Cahill was a little too trusting, or the fact that he just wanted to think the best of people, but despite the joke he never thought Evelyn would’ve been lying to him. His first instinct was, more times than not, to trust someone until they gave clear reason not to. The idea of being taken advantage of was a ridiculous one in his mind, because he figured as long as he was aware of what he was conceding on, it wasn’t actually being taken advantage of. And, as soon as anything seemed unfavorable or harmful, he would step in the way. As Evelyn took a seat and the two started to talk, he didn’t have reason to think that she’d be trying to do anything other than meet him, like they’d agreed on. (And maybe date? But he wasn’t sure about that yet and asking seemed really inappropriate so he was going to keep his mouth shut.)

As she turned her phone around, showing him the google search she had pulled up, his eyebrows were raising. His gaze shifted to look at her over the phone rather than focus on the articles. The font was far too small and there was too much of it for him to want to focus on trying to read it, anyway. “That’s all you? Are you famous?” He was impressed more than anything else. If someone had googled him he was fairly certain the only thing that would come up would be the garage. Which was helpful for getting business but nothing to write home about as far as being famous and having your birthdays in the news. “That’s pretty cool. And I agree. I don’t really see a lot of reason to be ashamed of most things. Even mistakes, you know?” Everything eventually just got you to where you were, and if you didn’t learn from mistakes or adapt then there wasn’t much worth doing. 

Even when it came to being a werewolf, there wasn’t so much a desire to conceal it because of shame as much as there was a sense of protection there. Both of himself, and the pack. Hunters had no problem going after someone they knew to be a werewolf, and he protected his pack above and beyond anything else. Aside from that, secrets were the last thing on Cahill’s mind. He didn’t have any to keep aside from those that protected his family from others that wished to do harm.

It occurred to him as she asked that they didn’t really know much about each other and he was smiling a bit, nodding. “Yeah, no. Not like a store. Auto repair shop. I own the garage that’s just outside of downtown here.” An out of the way location compared to a shop like Clawson’s, but convenient for anyone coming or going to Ashkent. That, and it provided him a good place to offer sanctuary to those that were avoiding the hunters and slayers of the town. Someone had to, after all, and there were far too many people that were complacent and willing to let others get hurt as long as they remained safe. Cahill refused to be one of those people. “Nothing too fancy, pretty generic repairs and stuff we handle. But I do a lot of custom bike work too.”

As the conversation turned to food, Evelyn was taking more control of the information than him and he wasn’t opposed to that. He didn’t know much about the menu or the food they provided so he was happy ot have suggestions. “Oh, I like spicy. I like most things, really. Food is good.” He wouldn’t complain if someone put a dish in front of him and told him to eat, assuming that plate wasn’t just loaded up with some bullshit like a kale salad. Anything else and he wouldn’t have complained. Bland. Spicy. Large portions. Small portions. Exotic. He didn’t mind. It got extra points if it involved some kind of tropical fruit, but that wasn’t expected in a place like this. “Any of that sounds good. You want to just... get a few things and we can share ‘em or eat what you want? I’m not very picky and I don’t really know what’s what on the menu.”

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He wrote “F U” with the hay that I gave him so I really don’t think he’s a normal guinea pig. But, fine, I guess? I just want my DVDs back.

That’s rude. Maybe he just doesn’t have manners? Like he hasn’t learned yet because he’s a baby. I’ll come help. Where should I go?

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baby, don’t cry | Douglas&Cahill

The full moon had always brought with it a certain level of balancing act. Between keeping himself from going crazy, there was also the pack to keep a handle on. Both the members that had gone through this time and again, like Eliza, and the newer members, like Gabe. Though, as of yet, Gabe was not officially a part of the pack. As far as Cahill was concerned, he was as good as one of them. As long as someone needed help, he wasn’t against them coming to him or the rest of the pack. It’d never been so much about numbers as it was protection, and it had become clear since Gabe showed up at his door a few months ago that he needed help.

Now that the full moon was arriving, it meant keeping a tighter handle on things, especially the young werewolf living at the shop. He had been sleeping in the loft for the last few weeks, usually without any extra guidance outside of a goodbye at the end of the night. As soon as the full moon arrived again, instead of leaving at the end of the night Cahill was making sure that Gabe was taken care of. More than just ensuring he had gotten enough food to help curb hunger, but making sure he stayed in place after Cahill had left. In a lot of ways, the loft had been designed to aid that purpose. He never apologized when it came to chaining a new werewolf down during the full moon; he’d have done that a thousand times if it meant keeping someone alive.

Once he left the shop, locking the doors and making sure things were secure, he was heading in the opposite direction of home. It was getting later—not dark enough yet that the need to change was there but he could feel the extra adrenaline that coursed through him. It was no longer as compelling as it had been when he was learning how to control it and now it was welcome. A familiar sort of edge in his blood that felt more him than he did most of the time.

But he was hungry. Always hungry around this time of the month, and rather than pay an arm and a leg in groceries it was the one time of the month that he actually allowed himself to hunt. Doing that usually required getting away from town, though, and it was why it was always prefaced with a run. Anything to help dispel some energy. The sun was setting by the time he was halfway through his run and rather than his focus being on the change that was soon to come and the hunt he was stopped in his tracks by the sound of someone crying. Brow furrowed, eyes scanning the trees. He paused, for just a moment, until he heard the sound again, and then was instantly heading in that direction at a slightly slower pace than he’d been running before. Careful to not make too much noise, if only because he wanted to make sure he was heading in the right direction.

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Prisoner? You can’t keep animals prisoner. But if I’m able I would definitely come over and take him off your hands or maybe help you find his friends as long as you don’t do anything to them?

Hey, I used to be a cop, I know what I’m doing. I explained his rights to him, let him make a phone call… You can have him once he tells me where my Buffy DVDs are. He keeps trying to drink my wine and take my money anyway. I don’t know what the legal process for guinea pigs is like but they’ll answer for their crimes.

If I help you find the DVDs can he be free to go because I'm not sure guinea pigs are always aware of human laws. So it seems fair to let him off with a warning.

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No, I captured him. He’s my prisoner. I don’t need your help looking but if you want to come over and question him or maybe get him to lure me to his pals then sure!

Prisoner? You can’t keep animals prisoner. But if I’m able I would definitely come over and take him off your hands or maybe help you find his friends as long as you don’t do anything to them?

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Is this anyone’s pet? His friends (a group…herd?..gaggle of guinea pigs) stole my DVD boxset of Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, so I like really want that back. 

Is he around where you are or just vanished? I can come help you look. Better to have two people looking than one, and I’d hate for him to get hurt if he’s just running around somewhere.

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