The Battle of Shrewsbury [Werewolf AU]

[tiltingwithlips]

The day of the battle dawns cloudy and cold. The men on both sides form up as the sun rises behind the clouds, facing each other across a field of gray snow in orderly ranks.

When battle is joined, most semblance of that order disintegrates. The leaders of each army range here and there about the field, directing their troops, and soon the snow is churned and brown with mud and blood.

Most of the soldiers are too busy fighting for their lives to notice the gray wolf creeping around the edges of the battlefield, crouched low to the ground, her hackles raised and lips pulled back in a snarl. Kate has never seen a battle. It's not exactly what she was expecting.

Comments

[tiltingwithlips]

See, that's a fun bit.

Kate scrambles to her feet, shakes herself, and then tips her head back for a full-throated howl of her own.

Let the king's soldiers come and investigate the noise now, if they dare. It's night and the moon is full and the world is hers. Theirs.

[valiantrebel]

Already stories of devils have been spreading through both camps -- a judgment on Percy, a judgment on the king, an effect of battle so close to Wales. Perhaps the stories might have been dismissed in later tellings, but for the unearthly noises heard by so many. Even the corpse-robbers stop and shudder, and many think of fleeing when the second voice joins the first.

Harry has been a one for roaring his entire life; this -- this he could feel he was made for, by heaven!

[tiltingwithlips]

As the howl dies down, Kate decides it's time to introduce Harry to another fun part of the whole experience -- so she turns and nips at his haunches to get his attention.

[valiantrebel]

What's that! Attention got, Kate, and perhaps a tail to the face too.

[tiltingwithlips]

Well!

She growls, snaps her jaws at him again, and then takes off running for the hills.

Come play chase, Harry!

[valiantrebel]

Indeed. Ready or not, here he comes!

He'd spent his whole life trying for the next best thing to this: riding horses, running after hunting dogs, asking Kate for details. To do it, though, to course himself, and so soon after he'd thought all was ended--!

He tears after her as joyously and ferociously as a charger into battle.

[tiltingwithlips]

Wolves can cover a great deal of ground at a run, and the truth is, Kate desperately wants to leave the battlefield behind. She leads the chase north and west, in the rough direction of Bangor.

It's many miles to the castle, though, and there's plenty of open land between here and there.

[valiantrebel]

 

 

 

It is his battlefield, though. Those are his men lying dead on the field, of his doing -- and the king's.

The king is still on the field, and the Prince of Wales, and perhaps his uncle Worcester, and the Douglas, and--

Harry's feet make the decision for him. He cannot leave yet: he must know, he must see, he cannot allow that this fight has been lost--

[tiltingwithlips]

Kate stops as he does, circling around and peering at him.

She knows that smell coming from him. She doesn't like it.

[valiantrebel]

Harry doesn't even consider that Kate might try and stop him: he changes course and begins loping toward the king's camp, hackles up.

[tiltingwithlips]

--Oh no he doesn't.

Kate comes bounding after him and tackles him into the snow, her teeth bared.

[valiantrebel]

He rights himself quickly, snarling and snapping.

This is not a game. He swore an oath.

[tiltingwithlips]

She plants her feet, puts her head down, and growls right back at him.

[valiantrebel]

He doesn't have time for this.

He starts to circle around her.

[tiltingwithlips]

Snarling, she snaps at him. What does he think he's going to do? Ravage the king's whole army?

[valiantrebel]

He could. He might. He would! Let him pass and watch him try.

[tiltingwithlips]

Not a chance in hell.

She snarls again, then barks, feinting towards him.

[valiantrebel]

Harry may not have been a wolf for long, but he knows that move in swordplay. He bares his teeth and plants his feet.

[tiltingwithlips]

Another bark.

Why are you being so stupid about this, Harry?

[valiantrebel]

Because, among a host of other reasons, which he is more than happy to repeat at length on request, the Prince of Wales, living son of Henry Bolingbroke, nearly killed him tonight and he should not have, and the method was not honorable, and of all men on the earth who should manage such a thing against him--!

[tiltingwithlips]

Enough! More than enough.

Kate lunges forward to try and tackle him to the ground again.

[valiantrebel]

Harry crouches low, and launches himself at her from below when she's close enough. It's a gamble, but he hopes he may have weight on his side.

God help them both, but he will not let his own wife stop him from what he must.

[tiltingwithlips]

She goes up and over with a surprised yowl, and immediately starts scrambling to her feet.

[valiantrebel]

He'll not fight her, if she'll only not follow. He bolts again for the king's camp.

[tiltingwithlips]

Of course he does.

Kate gets her feet under her and shoots after him. As she draws alongside him, she twists and throws herself against his side, immediately snapping for his throat.