Missing Pup Part III PV Elaine Pendrast Finished

Elaine got off the broom stiffly, unused to the motion of flying - it was like riding a bicycle, once learned one didn't forget how to do it, but that didn't mean that one was actually skilled at it after years without practice. The school broom was about as comfortable as a cave floor, and even that had been cozier with enough spells to often the rocky ground the one time she'd staid the night inside a mountain.

Kyle DeRook's broom was on the grass, marks in the earth leading away from it, the dull sheen of spilled blood barely visible in the dark of the night. Elena would have been able to track him with the right ritual, but she had no ingredients at hand, nor did she consider it prudent to use a student's blood to cast a blood magic spell.

"That seems reasonable," she agreed instead, knowing that a werwolf's nose was both more efficient and considerably fast at tracking than she could never hope to be with magical means. "His blood hasn't dried yet, I guess you missed his abduction by half an hour at most. Whoever took him cannot have gotten far. We are still well within apparation limits."

That was about as far as she could guess, but the wizard asked for theories and Elaine watched him take off his leather jacket as he spoke.

She hadn't really noticed how big he truly was, she realized. Marcus Iwasaki wasn't as much tall as he was broad, a brick wall of a man, all strong muscle and no fat. How old was he? She had never asked before, not caring for one and for another knowing that appearance could be deceaving with their kind. Elena herself was an example of this, her appearance not truly young while also not old, as ageless as any witch ever got.

"I don't know who they were after," she mused, keeping them both occupied, dark eyes still studying the Ravenclaw Head of House. "The girls were the easier target if they were stolen from the grounds. Kyle, however, at dusk, with a broom, alone on the Quidditch Pitch, without any cover around for an attacker to use... there was deliberation in taking him. He was no convenient target, nor an easy one. Either they wanted him because they knew what he was or there was something else that made him interesting, though I couldn't say what that could have been."

It was easier talking to him than she had expected. For some reason Iwasaki seemed to have a calming effect, possibly on her, most likely on her guardians. The wolfman had receeded as she had been talking, the others now hidden as well, silent, content almost. For some reason the tattoos didn't consider him a threat – which was as ironic as it was fascinating. They were only remnants, pale imprints of souls, far less sentient than any portrait would ever be, having been created with only one goal in mind: to protect her. Still, the traces of those who had given them their existence lingered, gave them enough character to decide for themselves whether she needed protection or not.

When the professor spoke again at last she tilted her head and considered him. Wondered again what kind of wolf he would turn into. Alexandru had been a magnificent creature, proud and fierce and deadly. She would forever remember the exact color of his fur and eyes, the glint of his teeth in the moonlight.

"I will not hesitate to get them back," she replied. They were hers, and however had dared take them would be somebody she'd deal with accordingly. A faint smile tugged at her lips. "I have no intention of letting their capturer run free, however... nor do I intend to leave you behind."

Elaine had seen enough dead men for a lifetime.

@Marcus Iwasaki

Marcus nodded at the woman's assessment of the situation. He had no doubt that they would find wherever DeRook had been taken - as Professor Pendrast had said, they couldn't be far behind - but they had no idea what they would be coming across. The boy would undoubtedly be in wolf form, but would he be in his right mind? Again, that nagging paranoia about a way to make wolfsbane moot was there, but he did not voice this concern. It seemed like such a wild one percent chance sort of thing. More importantly, though, was where he had been taken. Was he with the other Gryffindor girls? Would the kidnapper be with them? So many questions and variables. Where could they have been taken? Outside of the school gates? Maybe into the forest? They couldn't still be somewhere on the grounds, right?

"I do have a feeling he was targeted because of it, although I have no idea why. It's just that the identities of the werewolf students are kept private, which leads me to believe whoever did this has been observing for a while," Marcus mused, his amber eyes staying on hers. "It can't be a coincidence that he was taken tonight of all nights."

As she spoke of not leaving him behind, he offered a barely-visible smile and nod at the sentiment. "I have dealt with this disease for over twenty-two years, and... I have spent time learning to fight in that form," he shared, lowering his eyes to his hands, which he open-and-closed in a flexing motion. He had been part of a "pack" once, which essentially turned into werewolf fight club every month. It had been a wild time in his life, one he didn't speak of often. "But I have never needed to defend someone while turned, nor have I fought alongside an uninfected ally," he added, raising his eyes back to Professor Pendrast. "I expect this will be an interesting night."

This woman was oddly putting him at ease with the casualness of the way she stood by him despite knowing what was about to happen. The last time he transformed around a non-werewolf, he had not actually interacted with her. He had been locked away in Nora's basement and slept through the night, only coming out once he had returned to his human form. The time before that was-

A wave of heat down his spine made Marcus grit his teeth as his eyes instinctively lifted to the moon. It was time. "Mind turning away?" he asked, trying to put on a light-hearted grin. It came off more as a grimace as a wave of pain hit. He took several strides backwards, away from her and the crime scene. This would not be pleasant. He cried out at the first broken bone, but after that the pain was familiar and he recognized the slight ease provided by the wolfsbane. It was not much, but enough for him to grit his teeth and bare it. He had spent over two decades going through this, and he had learned to stifle himself. It was not an easy thing to accomplish, but there had been times where it was necessary.

Marcus Iwasaki fell to his hands and knees as his bones heated, continuing to break and reform. The arch of his back became more pronounced, and his body began to grow. His clothes were left in shreds from the rapid expansion of his muscles and the reshaping of his body. Of course there were still groans of pain and snarls that left his lips, but no screaming or yelling. He didn't need to alarm his colleague anymore than necessary. Fur was sprouting all over him - thick and dark brown in color. His hands and feet had developed pads before expanding, and lethal claws burst forth from his fingers and toes. The bones in his face were among the more painful, some of them breaking and some of them lengthening to form a snout and a larger head in general. His teeth gnashed as they sharpened and grew larger. This painful process is something he would never wish on his worst enemy.

As the werewolf grew to his full size, there was always that twinging desire to cause harm at the start. Marcus' werewolf instincts craving release and him fighting against it, meaning he spent a moment as he transformed clawing at the ground and leaving large slashes in the Quidditch pitch. Maybe it was also to distract himself from the pain. In the end the wolfsbane did its job as it always did, and a few seconds later he had full control. He stopped clawing and took a step with his new body, adjusting himself to the feel of it after a month away. Undoubtedly larger than a wolf, perhaps only slightly above average for an adult werewolf, but bulkier than many he had encountered before. There was serious muscle beneath his fur.

His amber eyes were still very much human, although larger in their wolf form, and now looked towards Professor Pendrast. If she had not turned to face him yet, Marcus would growl in her direction, but would not dare move from the spot he was in. If and when she did turn, he would slowly bow his head to her, hoping to convey that he was alright now and ready.

@Elaine Pendrast

Twenty-two years. Elaine wondered when Marcus Iwasaki had been turned. How old had he been? Ten? Twelve? Magical folk had a better chance of surving werewolf bites young, but even then, children who were turned evolved differently than those bitten as adults. Alexandru had been a werewolf for the majority of his life, hadn't known adult life without the curse. It was the same for the man opposite her.

"I have no doubt in your fighting prowess," she retorted when he mentioned his prior experience of fighting as a wolf, of never having protected people, or fought side by side, "Nor in your ability to protect the students."

It was uncommon for the average witch or wizard to not shy from a werewolf, Elena was acutely aware of that - as she was of the fact they reacted in the same way to Dark witches and wizards once somebody pointed them out. Even at Durmstrang there had been Professors who had avoided her simply for the knowledge of what she was. She had never held it against them.

Maybe she should have told him, then. My husband was a werewolf. What held her back wasn't shame, she had never been anything but awed by her husband's wolf-self. It wasn't that she had been married and was too old-fashioned to consider ever doing so again, either. No. It was that, in her mind, he still was a werewolf, alive, would be for as long as she saw his death in her nightmares or whenever her Occlumency shields wavered.

She stared, transfixed, as the change began to come over her companion for the night, and then raised a brow when he asked her to avoid her eyes. For a moment Elena wanted to laugh, and then remembered how patronising doing so would have been.

For all he knew, she had never seen a transformed werewolf before. For all she knew, nobody who had seen him in his werewolf form had ever done anything but scream and wail and flee. So she turned her head upwards, towards the sky, her dark brown eyes studying the clouds that were illuminated by the last rays of the setting sun. The sounds remained, however, the breaking and re-setting of bones, the muffled sounds of agony, the thud of paws meeting the grass.

Then, a growl. Purposeful, deliberate. A human mind hidden in the wolf's body.

Lowering her head, Elena took her time to regard the creature in front of her. His fur was thick and of a brown, almost russet color from what she could discern in the almost-dark, his body muscular, a wolf that looked like he was made for brawling. He was a marvelous sight to behold.

The wolf bowed his head. This time, Elena allowed the smile to play on her lips.

She bowed hers in return, her long black hair hiding the wolfman on her throat from view.

"Salut," she said in greeting, ignoring how all of her shadows slunk across her skin, trying to find a piece of uncovered skin from which they could get a look at the unknown werewolf. Instead, Elena held on steady to Kyle DeRook's broom and motioned towards the Grounds with her free hand.

"A beautiful night for a hunt, isn't it?"

If there was a faint touch of madness to her voice, an unhinged gleam in her eyes, a viciousness to her usually blank expression, then nobody but the wizard across from her would ever know. They would get her children back.

@Marcus Iwasaki

This woman was certainly something. Professor Pendrast smiled at him, rather than taking a natural step away. It was curious. Not to mention this was a unique experience for Marcus, standing beside a human in his wolf form. His amber eyes - the only lingering familiarity between human and wolf form - watched as the woman bowed her head in response and greeted him like a friend. Her eyes were not examining him extensively and her expression was not one of intense curiosity. She acts as if she has seen a werewolf up close before, he realized. It was a thought that had not crossed his mind before, but it could explain why she did not react in his presence. How she did not seem to flinch whenever he sat near her during meals in the Great Hall. The idea that she might have been friends with a werewolf.

It was only a theory, though. One he could not confirm in his current state. He made a mental note to ask her after the events of tonight had passed, but.. perhaps it was something she did not feel comfortable sharing. Otherwise, she would have brought it up already.

"A beautiful night for a hunt, isn't it?"

Professor Pendrast's voice caused Marcus' ears to twitch in response. He nodded his large head, then looked up at the full moon in the sky which illuminated the pitch. He only had a moment to appreciate the sight before his mind was back in the game.

It was time to get to work. Tracking was not an easy task, but having Kyle DeRook's broom would prove this to be much easier than if he only had the blood to work with. He stepped closer to the Head of Gryffindor, his head lowering and his snout seeking the broom pieces that she held. He took a long sniff of the broom, picking up on the young werewolf's scent and memorizing it. Since they were bringing the broom with them, he wasn't too concerned with forgetting the scent. But for now, he picked up on all the subtle smells associated with the broom, then lowered his nose to the blood in the grass.

After a few minutes of this, Marcus finally turned back to Professor Pendrast and gestured with his head to the exit of the Quidditch Pitch. It was time to go. He had picked up on the direction, and they needed to move quickly. Without much hesitation aside from making sure that Elaine had seen his gesture, Marcus took off at a run towards the exit. He would soon be leading them towards the Forbidden Forest. He trusted that the capable witch on this journey with him would keep up one way or another. Whether she used the school broom they had arrived on, or used some form of magic to follow, he did not hold back in speed. It was quite freeing to run across the Hogwarts grounds in this form. It had been a while since he had this much space in this form. It was... invigorating.

@Elaine Pendrast

She studied the werewolf's profile as he raised his head to the moon, the way the moonlight created a halo around his form, and how his amber eyes stood out against the darkness that had crept in while they had investigated the Quidditch Pitch. He was calm as he stepped forward to sniff at the broom in her hands. He had been calm since the moment the transformation had ended.

Alexandru had rarely been this at ease just moments after the change. In the early hours of the morning, when dawn was closer than dust, he had started to tire, had laid with her, let her scratch behind his ears with his huge black head in her lap.

Her husband hadn't grown old enough to ever learn how to be calm during a full moon, Elaine remembered while she stared at Marcus Iwasaki, the way he bent his head to get a good scent trail of Kyle DeRook. She'd been 25 when he'd died, not so tainted, then. Gabriela hadn't been born until 3 years later, the daughter who had screamed and raged at her through the Floo less than a week ago, tears of fire in her eyes.

There was a thought in Elena's head, one that swelled when she looked at Marcus' strong build, amber eyes, and calm demeanor. She knew what it was, knew with perfect certainty. And decided that it would remain where it was, hidden by the power she had over her own mind. She didn't want to think about it and so she wouldn't. The thought, the memory, would float back to the forefront of her mind eventually, but right now wasn't a good situation to think about what if's.

When the tall wolf made a sudden motion of his head towards the exit of the pitch, the witch startled. He was running before she could even confirm that she had understood, a blur of fur and tufted tail vanishing into the near darkness. Still, Elaine followed without hesitation.

Riding the old school broom didn't get any better with barely any visibility, nor did having to maneuver one-handed, her right hand still clutching her lion cub's worried broom. It would have been a truly miserable experience if it wasn't a full moon night and Elena was actually being lead in a hunt by a werewolf who was steering them straight towards the giant trees of Hogwarts' Forbidden Forest.

If he'd looked back his keen eyes might have been able to see the homicidal expression on her face.

Blood spilled under the light of the full moon had a peculiar color.

@Marcus Iwasaki