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

[valiantrebel]

He jerks back toward her, teeth bared and ears back. He still doesn't try to throw her off.

[tiltingwithlips]

Good.

She stares him down for a few more long moments, then gently mouths at his muzzle.

When they're both human again, he can be her lord and master and husband, and they can fight this out with words instead of teeth. But not now.

[valiantrebel]

His growl may as well be a grumble.

Nay, though it likes him little, he will be content and follow -- as he must, for he is entirely in her hands tonight.

[tiltingwithlips]

Fine, then. She lets him up, putting herself between him and the king's camp.

North and west, Harry, north and west.

[valiantrebel]

He shakes the snow off his fur and pauses, taking in Shrewsbury one more time. He is not given to sentiment about his battles, but then, he has not been killed and resurrected at any others.

Harry points himself and starts moving, with something less of the joy of earlier, but something much more of purpose.