for this bonus round, the theme is competition! pretty open-ended, prompts that are about some sort of competition! this round will end on july 31st!
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for your prompt post title, please use the following format:
PROMPT: TEAM [TEAM NAME]
for your fill post title, please use the following format:
FILL: TEAM [TEAM NAME]
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FILL: Team Anime/Manga
Date: 2024-07-20 06:37 pm (UTC)may have channelled catradora a little bit w this one
//
“I thought you’d be taller,” Cinder remarks.
The werewolf looks at her in the moonlight, ears flicking forward. Her expression switches rapidly from transfixed to bored, as though whatever she’d found interesting had quickly crumbled and died. “Oh, everyone says that,” she says, equally boredly. “I thought you’d be, I don’t know. Ghostier?”
Cinder snorts, squaring her shoulders. “Bold statement considering whose territory you’re on.”
The werewolf’s mouth flicks up, half of a fanged smile. She could probably tear Cinder apart with those teeth alone, never mind the rest of her. “I’m just passing through. You don’t need to worry.”
Cinder regards her, regards the silvery moonlight spilling through the trees and turning her white hair silver, regards the sword at her hip and the way she carries herself, and says, “On a full moon?”
“Is it?” the werewolf says, mouth curling sharper, “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Espionage, right? Inconvenient time to choose to do it.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say inconvenient,” she grins.
She thinks she’s already won. Cinder worries her bottom lip between her own teeth — not quite showing her own fangs, but close enough to remind her that they’re there — and takes her in, all five and a half feet of her. Werewolves tend to be cocky, tend to be convinced of their own superior strength, and it never does them any favours.
“If you want to fight me you’ll have to be smarter than that. My territory, my rules.”
The werewolf shrugs, spreads her arms wide. “I brought a sword for a reason. I thought we could at least be fair about it.”
“Do big dogs even know how to hold swords?” Cinder asks, trying to imagine a huge white-furred wolf holding a weapon that small and failing. “Do you evolve, like, at all? You know, vampires have adapted to —”
“My darling, I really don’t give a shit,” the werewolf says airily. “I’m on your territory, so do something about it.”
That’s what this is, Cinder realises; she came all the way out here because she was looking for a fight. There’s unwound tension in the corners of her mouth, the set of her shoulders, the way her hand lingers on the hilt of her sword. This isn’t espionage or an attempt to claim territory for her own stupid pack; she needed the feeling of skin splitting between her fingers and this was the only place she could think to go to find it.
Cinder tilts her head to the side, examining her. If it’s a fight she wants, it’s a fight she’ll get. “Fine, but no transforming. I trust you have the self-control to manage that?”
The werewolf flashes her another grin, far too feral to be anything but satisfaction. “More than enough.”