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If he stops he will die. That thought races through his head as he runs. Low-hanging branches and thorns ripped their sharp claws into his skin. The cuts they make add to the hundreds that already litter his body. His blood seeps into the very ground his feet pound against. His breath sounds as loud as a canon in the silence, not even the critters of the night want to speak to him. Every step he takes feels as if another dagger is stabbing into his side. His hand is pressed tightly against his side, blood dripping through his fingers. A dirty ripped loaf of bread is all Tommy has to show for his injuries.
Long after the loud yells from the angry villager fade, Tommy still runs. He runs even as everything catches up to him, even as tears pool in his eyes blinding him from the road ahead. Because it has been engraved in his mind that he will die if he stops. If he keeps running he will never have to face the gaping wound in his stomach. If he runs he won’t have to face the fact that he doesn’t have anywhere to go. He won’t have to face the loneliness that sits heavy in his chest.
So he doesn’t stop running. Even when his legs are so tired they don’t feel like his own. Even when his heart pounds so hard he feels as if it might stop. He runs through the bushes and streams, not caring for the mud that cakes his legs blending with the blood from his cuts.
He doesn’t stop until he physically can’t run any longer, and even then he still walks. He walks until his legs give out beneath him. Tommy with the last of his strength pushed himself until his back rested against a tree. Staring up at the stars as he lies on the soft itchy grass. The morning dew has already begun to stick to the green blades and the ground is soft and squishy from a stream that he can hear nearby. It's peaceful. Far more so than the streets of the village he had grown used to.
Tommy glances at the large wound on his stomach, grimacing at the blood that seems to never stop. His body feels like lead as he stares at the stab wound, tears pouring down his face. He doesn’t know what he is supposed to do. He doesn’t know how to treat this. He doesn’t know how to live in the wild, hell he barely knew how to live in the village.
There is a shuffle through the leaves near him. Tommy's head goes shooting up, looking for the cause. His eyes search through the trees and brush in front of him, desperate to find the source of the noise.
A small squirrel stares at him in return, before scampering off deeper into the forest. Tommy lets out a sigh of relief at the sight. He gets back to work quickly, peeling his shirt off. It stings as the dried blood pulls at his skin. He squishes his eyes shut as he pulls it off, wincing at the pain. Another sound rings across the woods, but he ignores it hoping the squirrel would go away soon. When the bloody shirt sits in his hands he dares a look at the injury. Somehow even more blood than before pools out from it making him nauseous.
Carefully he wraps the shirt around his stomach. It sends a jolt of pain through his body but he can’t leave it uncovered. He pulls it tight, tears well up in his eyes at the stabbing pain that it sends. His stomach feels as if it's on fire, a constant burning and eating pain.
Another noise echoes through the woods, but this time it isn’t a squirrel. A haunting howl blares through the trees. Tommy's eyes meet those of a wolf, only a few meters in front of him. He can feel his body freeze as he stares at the large creature. He had never seen a wolf before but he knew this one was abnormally large, it seemed to tower over Tommy even from afar. Its fur was snow white, shockingly clean for a wild animal.
Another howl sounds out, responding to the white wolf. It doesn’t take long for two more to fall at the first wolf's side. The two new ones were a bit smaller than the first but still huge. One had slick golden fur whereas the other had scruffy brown.
They stared at Tommy for a moment. And for a second he thought he would be ok, thought that they would lose interest in him and walk away. But that moment is shattered as the blond wolf steps forward, slowly creeping toward Tommy.
He feels as if his heart is about to stop as the other two follow in suit. He has nowhere to go, even if he did he wouldn’t be able to get far in his state. He is about to die, he is about to get ripped to shreds by a pack of angry wolves and he is so deep in the forest that no one would hear. Even if someone did he doubted they would care.
Tommy squeezed his eyes shut as uneven sobs rack his body. He can feel their hot breath on him and he leans away, preparing for the cold embrace of death. It doesn’t happen. Instead, a wet tongue swipes across a cut on his leg. Tommy lets out a whimper, why must they draw it out? Another tongue licks at a large gash on his arm. They continue this way for a few minutes before they back off.
Tommy risks a peek through his eyelids, only to see the three wolves laying down just a few feet away, staring at him with a curious look. He opens his eyes completely, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the fact that he still has all of his limbs.
“Are you not going to eat me?” Tommy asks, a hint of wonder in his voice. The blond wolf lets out a soft whine, laying his head on his paws. “Oh,” Is all Tommy has the energy to say. He stares at them for a moment before reaching towards the closest one, trying to pet the white wolf. His fingers fall just short. The wolf goes cross-eyed as it looks at his hand, stretched as far as possible. It takes a second but soon the wolf presses his head into Tommy's palm, accepting the pet.
“I think I’ll name you Dave, how does that sound?” Tommy asks, gently petting the Daves' soft fur as he does. If wolves could glare, Tommy is sure Dave would be giving him a death eye by now, but wolves can’t glare or talk so Dave is a great name for now.
Tommy feels the cold seep into his very bones, the blood that surrounds him being far warmer than his body. He can feel his eyes get heavy, and his lungs struggle to take in a breath. Tears sting in his eyes, slipping down the already sculpted paths.
“I don’t want to die,” Tommy tries to mumble, his tongue feels heavy and his mouth doesn’t seem to work the way he wants it but it's not like the wolves will understand. As soon as it rings across the world he wishes he never said it. Saying it makes it feel so real, saying forces him to face it. Face the fact that he is dying before he turns thirteen.
At least he isn’t alone, he thinks gently petting the wolf's head. Their fur is coarse and stiff but still soft as a cloud. Black spots fuzzy the corner of his vision as the wolf's head slips out from under his hand. Tommy whines, not having the strength for anything else. The other two are up as well. Tommy wants to beg for them to stay. Beg to not be alone in his final moments but he knows it will all be in vain, they couldn’t even understand him if he tries. He has no choice but to watch as the two take a step back. Dave stays though. He even takes a step closer.
Tommy watches as Dave stalks towards him, ducking down by his neck. He’s confused about what the wolf was doing until a searing pain lights his nerves on fire. He screams at the white pain that rains down on him from the teeth that sink into his flesh. Then the world goes dark.
************
From the moment that Tommy wakes up, he can tell something isn’t right. His eyes feel glued closed and his arms aren't quite normal. His brain is screaming at him as he has never seen before, crying pack-find-where’s-pack? It's odd but Tommy doesn’t have the brain power to think about it right now, too overcome by the loneliness that seeps deep through his chest.
A needy whine slips through his lips, begging for someone to come. His pack couldn’t have left him alone, and yet he is not here with him. More whines slip through his mouth. Tommy licks at his gums, only to feel how strangely sharp his teeth are. Desperately he tries to force his eyes apart, but all he manages to do is form stars across the black void beneath his eyelids.
He can feel a shift next to him. The ground is squishy and soft, filled with only what Tommy can assume are blankets. He can immediately feel as someone steps into it, not only by the soft tilt that the ground does at the weight but by the calming of the voices in his head.
His pack is here! Even though he’s not sure what that even means he knows it's exciting. A light thumping starts behind him. Tommy turns his head out of habit, which doesn’t tell him much. He can’t see whatever's making the noise but he can hear it so that should be enough. He squares his shoulders getting ready to pounce.
He jumps, trying to grab the noise maker, only for it to run out of the way. But Tommy can still hear it right behind him. It doesn’t take long for him to dissolve into running in circles. He can hear a snort from above him, but he is too focused on catching the thing to pay attention to it.
Tommy runs head-first into a wall that he knew wasn’t there a minute ago. He whines as his head shoots up. He can feel the breath of his pack as he bends down towards Tommy's neck. A strangely familiar fear shoots through his body before it leaves as his scruff is gently grabbed. His legs dangle in the air as his body goes boneless. His alpha takes a few steps forward, going deeper into what his brain voice is calling the den. Tommy is set down gently. A wet tongue rolls over his eyes, settling something deep within him.
“How is he?” A hushed voice asks. A growl picks up in his chest at the sound of another being so close to him and his alpha. It's his alpha job to keep him safe and he clearly wasn’t doing it right if someone was so close to him. A soft childing rumble is sent through the air, calming his nerves and making him yawn.
Carefully Tommy settles down getting ready for a nap. He can feel the weight change next to him but he pays it no mind as his mind begins to drift. His pack is still here, he knows he is so it doesn’t matter if he changes a bit. A warm hand runs across his back.
“His perfect Phil, absolutely perfect,” The deep voice of his pack hums through the air, Tommy is asleep in a matter of seconds.
************
Tommy's mouth opens in a large yawn before he is even properly awake. He rubs at his eyes, still stuck closed, causing him to grumble sleepily. There is a soft laugh near him causing Tommy to raise his head. A large hand ruffles his hair, resting on his head after. The issue is the hand is large. Too large to be normal. it easily covers his entire head.
“You awake runt?” His pack questions. Tommy lets out an annoyed growl, bucking the hand off his head. His pack laughs as he does. “Come on bud, why don’t you open your eyes?” The man asks. Tommy just shoves his head under the soft blankets in response. Another laugh rings out before the weight shifts yet again. Sharp teeth pick him out of the blankets by his scruff as carefully as humanly possible. It seemed as if his pack was grabbing an egg and not him.
As soon as he is set down a tongue runs across his eye, getting rid of the crust that had held them together. Tommy doesn’t even have his eyes open for a millisecond before he has to close them again, blinded by the warm lights that surround him.
It takes him a moment of blinking before his eyesight goes back to normal, revealing a large white wolf sitting in front of him. Tommy stumbles back or tries to before he pauses at the sight of his hands, or paws. Tommy doesn’t have hands. Instead, two small golden paws sit attached to him. He tries to move his arm and the paws move.
It hits Tommy like a freight train. He’s been turned. He’s a werewolf now, just like the one sitting in front of him.
This is the best day of his life! Tommy is quick to jump to his oversized paws, running in circles around his pack. He has a pack! Little barks of joy sound across the warm den. Happy-pack-safe-excited-play-please-play? He cries out. An amused huff sounds from his pack.
Tommy bounds toward the wolf, jumping at his ears. The soft flesh makes the perfect target. He tries to jump on his pack back. Standing there for a moment before he loses his footing and tumbles back to the ground. Tommy stares at his pack from upside down, still laying on his back where he landed. He bounces back quickly running laps around the wolf and bed, discovering every nook and cranny he can.
There is a huge mattress underneath them, and at least one hundred blankets had to be layered onto the thing, all different colors but still so soft. Tommy stares at the edge of the nest for a moment, the voice in his head yells at him but he has always been far too curious for his own good. Not-safe-bad-go-to-pack. The little voice in his mind reels at the idea of stepping out, but Tommy ignores it.
He never even gets a paw of the soft blankets before his pack is scruffing him, carrying him back to the middle of the den. A large paw lands on his back, keeping Tommy in place as careful teeth comb through his fur. Tommy grumbles at the cleaning, already trying to wiggle out.
Finally when the cleaning is done his pack releases him. His freedom doesn’t last long however as soon human hands are scooping him into a lap. Tommy stares at his pack's human form, trying to take in everything. The man has pink hair, tied up carefully in a braid. A scar runs across his nose and many overs litter his arms.
“Hey runt,” The man says with a grin, tapping his nose. Tommy snorts at him, making the man chuckle. “I’m Techno, do you want to tell me your name,” His pack, Techno asks. Tommy gives him a blank stare. How is he supposed to tell the man his name if he can’t talk? Techno waits another few seconds, he tilts his head as if trying to tell his pack faster.
“I should have guessed that you wouldn’t have known how to shift this early,” Techno says with a soft sigh. “Alright just imagine your human form, think about your limbs, think about how it feels to wiggle your fingers and how it feels to run on two legs.” Techno instructs. Tommy follows his directions, closing his eyes as he does. Anchoring himself to a few fond memories. He thinks about how the grass feels under his figures as he picks apart the blades of green. He thinks of the pounding of his feet against the ground as he runs. He thinks of the simple things like how the skin of his thumb feels against his index finger.
Tommy can feel the shift as soon as it starts. His bones feel as if they have turned to clay. Malleable as they flex. He can feel his fingers wiggle. He can feel the soft blankets under his feet. He opens his eyes. Techno smiles at him.
“Hello runt,” Techno tells him. Running a hand through his hair, Tommy glares as he messes up his hair. “What's your name?” He asks.
“Tommy,” He chokes out. His throat is dry and scratchy from disuse.
“Tommy,” Techno parrots, seeing how the name flows on his own tongue. “You're mine now. My pup, alright? I will do everything in my power to protect you and keep you safe.” he declares. Tommy nods, staring at the man with wide eyes. A puzzled look crosses his face for a moment as he opens his mouth.
“Does that make you mine?” Tommy asks.
Techno laughs, “Yeah I guess it does runt, I guess it does,”