Aiden had never been on a train in his life. He'd never held a pocket watch. So when he found himself doing both, part of him wondered if this was some really specific and realistic wolfsbane hallucination. The subtle knocking rhythm of the train along the track was lulling him into a false sense of peace and security. And that was not. Good.
Clenching his jaw, he forced a little of the wolf into his eyes, making them turn bright red. And he could feel his fangs elongating in his mouth, ready to bite, to tear. If there had been another on the train with him, he very well might have taken them out, just because he could. He did not like being separated from his pack, and he especially did not like being separated from his twin, his other self.
In a cloud of smoke and steam, the train finally began to slow, and finally stop. His glaring out the window had answered nothing; just miles of anonymous, old-growth woods. And then...a city. An old-fashioned city, mostly crumbling, but with bright spots of activity. The sort of place a werewolf could curl up and lick his wounds, try to figure out what to do next.
But then...a miracle? Or a disaster. He could sense his brother somewhere nearby. What the actual fuck was going on?! The compulsion to seek his brother out, to get the hell off this train, was suddenly overwhelming. Fangs retracted, red leeched out of his eyes, and he was a normal-looking young man again, out to stalk this bizarre city. And if anybody had done anything to hurt his brother, he would personally remove the spines, by hand, of the ones who did it.
[Canon] Aiden || Teen Wolf || Reserved || 3 of 3
Aiden had never been on a train in his life. He'd never held a pocket watch. So when he found himself doing both, part of him wondered if this was some really specific and realistic wolfsbane hallucination. The subtle knocking rhythm of the train along the track was lulling him into a false sense of peace and security. And that was not. Good.
Clenching his jaw, he forced a little of the wolf into his eyes, making them turn bright red. And he could feel his fangs elongating in his mouth, ready to bite, to tear. If there had been another on the train with him, he very well might have taken them out, just because he could. He did not like being separated from his pack, and he especially did not like being separated from his twin, his other self.
In a cloud of smoke and steam, the train finally began to slow, and finally stop. His glaring out the window had answered nothing; just miles of anonymous, old-growth woods. And then...a city. An old-fashioned city, mostly crumbling, but with bright spots of activity. The sort of place a werewolf could curl up and lick his wounds, try to figure out what to do next.
But then...a miracle? Or a disaster. He could sense his brother somewhere nearby. What the actual fuck was going on?! The compulsion to seek his brother out, to get the hell off this train, was suddenly overwhelming. Fangs retracted, red leeched out of his eyes, and he was a normal-looking young man again, out to stalk this bizarre city. And if anybody had done anything to hurt his brother, he would personally remove the spines, by hand, of the ones who did it.