Chapter Text
Up on the mountain, above the town, there's a tiny settlement along a road called Moonlight Terrace near the town of Catskill, New York. The road name came later, naturally, along with the road itself: the settlement was already there and well-established by French fur trappers and prior British settlers by the time the town's original residents arrived. A secretive sect with a deep love of dogs and privacy that were largely unwilling to entertain strangers but certainly willing to defend themselves against invaders.
These days, they are still largely unwilling to entertain strangers, but the settlement is surprisingly diverse considering how isolated the people up there are and seem content to remain. New faces among them are fairly rare, but it's not unheard of for a person from town to suddenly disappear without warning before reappearing on Moonlight Terrace a few weeks later with a new spouse, a new bright white collar around their throat, and an absolute refusal to return to their old life.
Most people at the base of the mountain are certain that Moonlight Terrace is home to a cult. However, being part of a small religious sect isn't against the law, and the people themselves seem fairly inoffensive when they come down the mountain to work mostly minimum wage jobs, though there's something about them. Something about the way their eyes meet yours, like staring down a wild animal that hasn't decided whether to attack or to continue on their way.
Or, perhaps, it could all be the blue collars they insist on wearing no matter the dress code, no matter the circumstances.
It's also not unheard of for a person from town to suddenly disappear without warning and never reappear again anywhere, but that's likely due to the wolves in the woods. Even with all the warnings--verbal, signage, and otherwise--, some people just can't seem to help themselves from being drawn inside. Local police attempt rescue efforts, of course, but everyone knows that the wolves don't tend to leave much behind to be found.
The cult and the wolves are, naturally, entirely unrelated.
-
A few hours ago, back when the sun was still up, walking around the woods without a trail or a compass or any of the other Ranger Rick bullshit he doesn't know how to use seemed like a fantastic way to find a new dead thing for his collection. Now that the sun has set and long shadows are thrown by the full moon rising above the tangled branches in the canopy, Dave is starting to think that, maybe, he should have listened to Rose's mom–his mom–about staying out from under the trees, because he has no fucking idea where he is.
Nothing looks familiar. Not to be a plant racist, saying that all trees look alike, but... all the trees look exactly the same to him, and there's nothing like a trail anywhere he can see. No worn paths, no little flags. He's heard you're supposed to stay where you are when you get lost, so the people who end up looking for you can find you, but no one's looking for him yet, so staying put seems like a bad idea.
Especially with all the wolf howling he's been hearing and how close the source of the noise seems to be getting.
Then there’s another howl that’s so fucking loud, the sound feels like it’s moving through him, and then he’s moving, because he’s not going to be taken out by the local wildlife. This isn’t how he’s gonna die. No fucking way. No fucking–
–he trips and falls right on his stupid face. He rolls over and gets himself up onto his feet–not all of Bro’s lessons involved getting hit with a sword–, but before he can turn around to start running again, he finds himself almost face to face with the largest animal he’s ever seen in real life outside of a zoo.
A large, dark head has poked out of the bushes. A dog, but a big one. Or a wolf, but a small one. Maybe. Dave doesn’t know shit about dogs or wolves. Whatever it is, it regards Dave with shiny eyes that almost seem to glow in the darkness. A flash of white, drool coated teeth before it closes its mouth.
Then it comes all the way out, its head coming up to Dave’s chest. Its nostrils flare, and Dave knows he’s about to die, because there’s no running away from something this fucking huge at point blank range. The animal comes in closer, super slowly, and he doesn’t know why Cujo is taking so long to go for the juggs.
The jugular, to be clear, not his luscious boy pecs. Dave kind of wishes it would hurry up, because he’s definitely gonna die anyway, but maybe fear makes the meat taste better? Is that how this shit works?
The dog/wolf tilts its head in a way Dave’s never seen a dog do outside of a movie, and he realizes he’s been verbalizing his thoughts since around the time he called the animal Cujo. It’s a bad habit he hasn’t been trying all that hard to break, but he’s starting to think that maybe he should try a little harder–it’d make dealing with Rose a little easier. She’s been having a field day with him now that even the scant filter of needing to type shit out is gone.
Anyway, the animal is clearly staring at him now, but there’s no sign that it plans to strike. It stops less than a foot away, close enough to touch. Like it’s waiting for something? Is it waiting for something? Does it want… does it want to be pet?
No.
No!
That would be the stupidest thing he could ever think of doing! He’d probably end up losing a hand, and he needs those to mix his sick mixes and draw his sick comics. But the urge is strong and undeniable. The inner caveman wants to reach out and touch a wild fluffy monster, and, yeah, there was no way this wasn’t gonna happen.
He swallows hard and reaches out his hand.
Though no immediate moves are made to snack on his fingers, the dog/wolf is clearly watching his every move with those freaky glowing eyes.
His hand hovers over the large head before slowly, slowly coming down to make contact between large, alert ears. The fur is soft. Like silky soft. Like he could comb through it with his fingers if he dared to move his hand. Though as the seconds continue to pass and he continues to have ten fingers, he starts breathing easier and easier. Maybe he’s not in horrible danger after all?
Or maybe fear doesn’t make the meat taste good, and Cujo is waiting for him to get tasty again.
The dog/wolf snorts and closes its eyes before head-bumping Dave’s palm like Rose’s cat does when it wants in on the petting action.
And, like when Rose’s cat starts nudging, he’s not gonna refuse the call. Dave pets the dog. “I mean,” he says quietly, not wanting to break the spell allowing his fingers to remain attached to his hand, “you have to be a dog, otherwise, I’d be Disney Princessing all up in this bitch, and I ain’t all about that damsel in distress thing.” Even if he actually is in some distress at the moment.
The dog nudges his palm again.
Oh, yeah. Right. Forgot what he was here for. “Rose is going to be so jealous.” The fur is as easy to comb through as he thought it would be. "She likes magic shit, and this ain't magic, but it's close."
Dogs can’t laugh, Dave’s pretty sure, but it sounds an awful lot like the dog is laughing at him
Weird, but this whole interaction has been pretty unbelievable up to this point, so what’s one more weird thing? He doesn’t wait for the dog to nudge his hand again. “Anyway, she’s gonna be hella jealous. If I ever find my way out of this place, I mean. I have no fucking idea where I am or how far away from home my current location makes me, and, no offense, you’re no Lassie.”
A huff from the dog Dave pretends sounds offended.
“But maybe I’m better off with you, though, ‘cause Lassie wasn’t shit at her one and only job. Like, great, you’re letting everyone know Timmy fell in the well again, but how about, I don’t know, keeping that little shit from falling in in the first place?”
Another snort from the dog.
Dave smiles, feeling too relieved to smirk. The dog doesn’t understand him, but it doesn’t have to to make him feel that he’s at least not lost alone in the woods anymore. “Yeah. So, I am way better off with you than I’d be with her.”
The dog gently bats away Dave’s hand with its nose so it can hit him in the chin with dog tongue.
It’s super gross, and Dave wipes his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, laughing. “Fuck, dude. I know it’s hard to resist macking on me, but you gotta try.”
With a shake of the head, the dog starts sniffing around at the leaves and shit. By the time it occurs to Dave that the dog might be looking for a spot to squat, it starts walking off. Before he has time to feel real disappointment that the special Trade Marked by Disney Trade Marked forest moment is over, it turns back. Glowing eyes meet his. It barks and seems to be waiting for something.
“What?”
It stares a while longer before trotting back to Dave. Then it snags a bit of his hoodie in its mouth, gently tugging him in the direction it came from.
“You want me to follow you?” Yeah, it’s beyond stupid to ask like the dog is going to understand and somehow answer him in a way he’s going to understand, but the question does need asking so it can be answered. That’s just how shit works, and Dave didn’t make the rules.
The dog doesn’t nod, but it does let go of the threads and turns around again.
The other question, ‘Why do you want me to follow you?’, doesn’t get asked, so Dave starts following the dog through the trees like the dog actually has some destination in mind. The way the dog looks back every so often is just a coincidence: it’s not making sure Dave’s still behind it.
After a while, the dog stops looking back, either trusting Dave understands how to play following the leader or just more interested in whatever’s in front of it. Or him–the balls are a pretty big clue that he’s on XY side of the street. The dog’s pace is easy enough to keep up with, and now that Dave has an objective, i.e., following the dog, the soft wood noises are starting to get to him. He’s still used to Houston and noise twenty-four seven, and the occasional far off wolf howl doesn’t count as a comforting noise.
“I’m kind of new to the neighborhood,” Dave says, the sound of his own voice better than the epic amounts of soft creaks and leaf rustling, “the closest I ever got to a forest before this were the couple of trees packed together in the park. I guess that’s why I didn’t appreciate how easy it’d be to get fucking lost. I thought I had this shit on lock when the only shit I had was the shit I was full of.”
The dog glances back at him for a moment before continuing on his way.
So, Dave continues, too, stumbling over roots and shit as he metaphorically kicks his own ass over his asshattery. “This was so fucking stupid, coming out here and getting lost. And do you think I told anyone where I was going? ‘course I didn’t tell anyone–if I said I wanted to go out in the woods and score some cool finds, I would have been told no fucking way you’re doing that, and I’d get pulled inside to play another game of Pictionary with Rose or something lame like that.”
He can’t remember why that would have been so bad now.
“It’s not that I don’t like playing Pictionary with Rose–don’t get it twisted. Getting to chill with Rose face to face has been awesome. I’ve been getting to know my mom, too, when she isn’t passed the fuck out–I didn’t even know I had a mom. I mean, I knew I had a mom, ‘cause I didn’t just catch a ride on a meteor and crash-land like Superman, but I didn’t know she was still, like, around. To know and shit.”
Living with Rose and her mom–his mom–has been pretty fucking sweet all around. “It’s been hella not having to worry about accidentally setting off a puppet Saw trap or having to make sure I don’t scratch my balls or something on camera when I feel like chillin’ outside of my room. And I sure as fuck haven’t missed strifing all the time or having to dodge throwing stars when I get the hankering for something cold from the fridge, you know?”
The dog clearly doesn’t know, being a dog and all, but he whines a little.
“Yeah. But… And this is hella gay to cop to, but hear me out: I miss Bro.” Or his dad, because the guy who taught him to call him ‘Bro’ was never his brother at all. The idea is still kind of too weird to put into out loud words, even to a dog. “Like it wasn’t all strifes and puppet porn, you know? We had good times, made some Hallmark memories and all that gay shit. But I’m mad at him, too, because he just ditched me here, just dumped me and all my shit at the Lalonde’s front door, and fucked off to points unknown without leaving any clues. That’s a total dick move, right?”
The dog barks. It’s just the timing that makes it sound like agreement.
“Damn right,” Dave declares. “Total dick move. Glad you see it my way.” Apparently, Bro did the whole disappearing act with Mom, too, but with Dave in tow. Which is probably technically kidnapping, now that he’s really thinking about it. Shit, no wonder Mom was crying so much and hugging him so often when he first arrived here.
“I’m starting to think Rose might be right about Bro just being a dick in general.” He sighs at the crushing realization. “Fuck, she’s going to be so smug.” Rose won’t just say ‘I told you so’ like a normal person–she’ll keep mentioning it off hand for the rest of his life. Or her life if it gets bad enough. Still, when she’s right, she’s right, and being right, she deserves to know. “Maybe I’ll save it for Hanuka or her birthday or something so I don’t gotta shell out for a gift.” This plan makes a huge assumption. “Gotta get out of the woods first. That’s like priority number one. Numero uno.”
The dog barks again.
“You get it. Speaking of, sure hope you’re actually taking me somewhere civilization adjacent, and not just leading me to your secret kill cave now that my meat won’t taste like fear sweat.”
Dave didn’t know dogs could roll their eyes. That’s good to know.
A few moments later, he’s being led out of the thick underbrush and the canopy of tree branches, out into the light of the full moon. The moon reflects off the dark colored fur, making the dog look even larger than it did before. Again, Dave takes a quick second to appreciate how lucky he is to still have all of his fingers still attached to his hands as he keeps hiking on in his obviously not hiking appropriate ensemble.
The scrub under his feet abruptly becomes dewy grass, and it takes kind of an embarrassingly long time for Dave to recognize the ridiculously large lawn he’s walking on belongs to the Lalondes. “Oh shit. Lassie really does got nothing on you.”
The dog turns back and stares at him like Dave’s totally missing his cue.
And all he can think of to say is “Thanks,” because that’s what a bro says to a bro who helps out a bro. Even if that bro is a dog, apparently. “I’d let you in, but Rose has a cat, and she’s already gonna be pissed at me for losing myself. I can get you a treat or something, maybe.”
A huffy kind of bark, and the dog walks back to Dave, coming in close enough to give Dave’s hand a thick coating of drool, before bounding off to eventually disappear back behind the treeline.
Leaving Dave behind to wipe his hand off on his hoodie while he starts to grin. Yeah, Rose isn’t going to believe this.
Rose is waiting for him like a sitcom mom catching their kid coming home after curfew, right down to the slippers. “I was starting to wonder if you’d had enough of domestic living and run off.”
Dave laughs. “Fuck no, Rose. Can’t get rid of me that easily. Just got a little lost in the woods. No big.”
She uncrosses her arms to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Dave.”
“Okay, yeah, big,” Dave allows, “but it’s okay. I got rescued in my darkest hour by this huge dog. Led me back home like Lassie after her sex change and a whole regime of steroids.”
Rose lowers her hand to look at him, distinctly unamused. “You don’t need to make up stories.”
“I’m very nearly offended you’d think I’d make shit like that up.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Don’t worry, I learned my lesson. No more wandering around the woods on my ownsome. Scouts honor or whatever.”
“You better not.” Before Dave can react, Rose has him in a tight hug. “Next time you decide to get yourself lost in the woods, it would behoove you to remain lost, because I will murder you upon your return, understand?”
Dave is almost entirely sure this is an empty threat. Almost. “Got it.”
“Good.”
The cult and the wolves are not entirely unrelated.
Tucked away in the basement of one of the homes along Moonlight Terrace, a lone wolf paces her cell, gnawing on the bars and growling at the empty room beyond them. Though old, her teeth are sharp, her muscles are strong, and pure rage fuels her every action. A rage born of losing something precious and being lost. The wolf doesn’t understand the finer details: all the wolf knows is the something lost was stolen, even if she doesn’t remember what that something was.
She stops chewing the bars long enough to howl, calling for someone that will never come.
Several hours later, when the moon is finally set, the she-wolf starts to change. Fur seems to be drawn back under the skin, revealing the warm olive color of a Mediterranean ancestry. Bones shift as her limbs regain their humanity. Her teeth draw back into her jaw, and her eyes change color, becoming a normal, human green. Gray hair grows from her scalp, falling in thick, disheveled waves.
Then the transformation is complete: where there was once an old wolf, there is now an old woman wearing nothing but a white collar around her throat. She stands tall, regal despite her nakedness, and she sighs before walking over to the cupboard to get her robe. Dark green silk drapes over her shoulders, and she ties the robe shut.
A sound draws her attention to the stairs out of the basement, and she frowns, confused. Usually, she has a longer wait before being released.
A wolf slides down the stairs with a startling lack of grace, crashing down to the floor, legs akimbo. Unharmed, it immediately stands up and comes to the bars, wagging his tail.
She smiles, recognizing her grandson despite not having the same excellent sense of smell as the natural-born betas and alphas, though she is rather surprised to see him: no one is allowed to come down to her cell except for her own son when he locks her in and when he frees her come dawn. Perhaps that’s changed? “Good morning, Karkat.”
Karkat barks once before shifting into his human shape. Like most of the natural-born, he’s unembarrassed by his nudity. “Nonna Porrim! The most wonderful thing has happened! I’ve met my true mate–I’m an alpha! I’m an alpha, and I have a true mate! He’s a human, like you.”
Porrim, because this is her name, blinks. Her smile stiffens with resignation: there will be another human ‘like her’ with a white collar wandering around the compound without a purpose beyond creating children with their alpha. Another human who will have to abandon everything they know for a world where they don’t belong. She notices, naturally, that Karkat is currently alone, and that gives her some hope, even though it won’t matter in the end. “Where is he? Have you… have you bitten him yet?”
Once a human is bitten by an alpha, there’s no escaping their fate. And Karkat is so young–still only a child!–that even as an alpha, he won’t be able to offer his true mate much protection from the disdain of others.
Even the leader of the pack lacks the power to still every tongue and to stifle every whispered word in their own pack, never mind other packs.
Karkat shakes his head. “He’s at his house–he got lost in the woods, and I led him home.” He sounds proud of himself for this good deed. Then he looks around, as though worried about being overheard. “I wanted to talk to you first.”
A relief but likely a short lived one. After all, Karkat merely wished to speak with her first. “Did you?” Porrum takes a seat on the heavily scratched wooden bench, heedless of the possible damage to her fine silk robe. She has others, and this may be a long conversation.
Karkat comes closer to the bars, eager. “Yeah. I need your help.”
“My help?”
A quick series of nods. “I know Father Kankri is against true mates, and he’s going to be so pissed when he finds out I have one, but if I can convince you to trust me with my true mate, you can help me convince him I’m not gonna do something horrible to the one person meant just for me.” He squats down so he has to look up at her, a sign of respect. “I won’t hurt him. I love him, Nonna Porrim, and I need him by my side always.”
The respect mollifies her, but the facts of the matter haven’t changed. “You may love him, Karkat, but he doesn’t love you. He doesn’t know you. You say you won’t hurt him, but you will, because being ripped away from everything and everyone you know to live among strangers is painful.”
Loving a stranger without understanding why you love her, accepting her abuse because something inside you insists that you need her is also painful, but Karkat doesn’t need to hear about such things from his grandmother. Not when he is already looking at her with such wounded eyes.
She has no wish to be cruel.
Karkat doesn’t argue the points she made. Despite Kankri’s efforts and her own, all of her grandchildren know her story, or enough of it to understand why they don’t have a Grandmother Aranea. “What if I let him get to know me before I bite him? Then I won’t be a stranger, and he won’t feel all alone.” He seems pleased with his solution.
Porrim’s brow furrows. “How will you accomplish that, child?”
“I know where he lives,” Karkat says, apparently unaware of how terrible that sounds, “and he trusts my wolf. So, I can get close to him, learn more about him, and let him learn more about me. I can wait for him to love me, too.”
The glaring problem with this plan is obvious to Porrim, but she understands why Karkat doesn’t see it. His own sister, Terezi, never shifted out of her wolf form, and he adores her as his sister, the same way he adores his sister Kanaya who never shifts into her own wolf form except under the light of a full moon. When your own relatives may choose to remain animals all of the time, the idea of a pet seems unnatural.
Understandable or not, Karkat’s ignorance doesn’t change the problem at hand. “Your true mate will learn that you enjoy playing catch and getting belly rubs. He won’t even learn your name until you reveal your human-self, and you know that you will not be able to do that until after he’s been bitten.”
Karkat shifts from squatting to sitting, letting go of the bars to cross his arms. His frown indicates contemplation of rather than annoyance with her words. “Maybe…Maybe I could go to him in my human form sometimes? Then I could speak with him, and he could learn more about me.” He nods, convinced of his new plan. “I’ll wait until he loves both sides of me. Then he won’t be unhappy to be with me.”
With rare exceptions, only betas go down to the town to work among the regular humans. Alphas are too important for manual labor beyond hunting, and omegas… omegas can’t be trusted not to run away. Betas are also naturally calmer, naturally have better control over their wolves, so if they are made angry, they won’t shift out of human form and meet out punishment to those who angered them.
But, perhaps, this could be one of those rare exceptions. The fact that Karkat is willing to go so far to let his true mate get to know him instead of just biting him and forcing him into their pack is heartening. The vice squeezing her heart slacks enough for her to nod.
“It would be a start,” Porrim allows. “I will speak with your father Kankri on your behalf regarding your true mate, but I can make no promises.”
“Thank you!” Karkat stands, and presses his face to the bars. “Thank you, Nonna Porrim!”
She stands up and walks over to press her cheek against his, wishing she could hug him in this moment instead. Then she steps back. “You best return to wolf-shape and go back to your room, Karkat, for your father Kankri will be coming down to free me soon, and he will be displeased to find you here.”
Her grandson shifts into his wolf, seeming to melt away to leave a wolf in his place. Instead of leaving as she suggested, he freezes before running into a dark corner and remaining still.
The reason becomes obvious as her son, Kankri, comes down the stairs. He comes up to her cell, the key to the door already in his hand. “Mother, I’m so sorry I’m late, but I had to help track down Terezi, and you know how good she is at hiding.”
“That I do,” Porrim agrees.
Kankri pauses, the key only half-turned in the lock. “I smell Karkat. Why was he down here? He knows better than that.” He doesn’t wait for the answer before completing the key turn and unlocking the cell.
She steps out into the basement and stands in front of the stairway, drawing her son’s eyes away from the dark corner Karkat is hiding in. “You can’t smell it?”
His shoulders slump after taking a deep sniff. “Fuck.” The word is heavy with grief.
“Indeed.”
“Did he already…?” The question trails off, his dread clear.
At least she can ease his mind on this point. “No, not yet. He wished to speak with me first, so that he might convince me to convince you that, how did he put it?, you can trust him with his true mate.” She smiles slightly. “He said he knew you would be ‘pissed’.”
Kankri’s laugh is tired. “He said that?” He runs a hand through his hair to scratch the back of his head. “And did he manage to convince you?”
“You are raising your children to be kind and thoughtful,” she says. “The fact that Karkat resisted biting his true mate this very evening out of respect for your feelings on the subject and sought to bring me to his side says many positive things about him. He’s also willing to wait until his true mate loves both his human and his wolf before making his claim.”
She reaches out and places a hand on her son’s cheek, urging him to look at her. “I appreciate the sacrifice you made, and I know the pain it causes you. I feel that pain as well.” While none of these sentiments are new, the wording has never been so blunt when shared. “The pain I feel is necessary, but yours… I regret not trusting you enough to know that your mate’s fate would not be mine.”
He steps forward and leans his head against her shoulder. “What would you have me do, mother?”
Porrim hugs him tightly. “Do what I could not: trust that you have raised your child well enough not to repeat your mother Aranea’s sin.”
Kankri sighs into the embrace, returning it. “All right. I’ll trust you, and Karkat.” He’s silent for a moment. “I love you.”
She smiles into her son’s hair. “And I love you.”
Later, after Nonna Porrim and Father Kankri leave the basement, Karkat shifts back into his human form with a sigh. Fuck. He thinks he would have been happier not hearing that conversation, but he did, and there’s no unhearing it. So, he’ll have to work that much harder to make sure he full-fills his promise to his Nonna.
He doesn’t want his true mate to feel as shitty joining their pack as she did.
Karkat quietly makes his way up the stairs, up into the main floor of the house. The morning after a full moon is usually fairly quiet once everyone comes home: after spending all night running around under the full power of the wolf, sleep is a necessity. Usually, that’s how Karkat feels, too, but not now. He’s far too energized to even think of sleeping yet. The room he shares with his sister Terezi is on the second floor, and he’s careful not to make too much noise on his way there.
Of course, Terezi is already curled up on top of her bed, her light gray fur the color of moonlight. She’s making soft yipping sounds, chasing small animals even in her sleep after spending a whole night chasing them.
He walks past her to the full-length mirror and looks at himself for the first time since becoming an alpha. His body has already been undergoing the normal human changes any human body goes through, but he can see some new changes. Feel some new changes even without reaching down to fondle himself.
An alpha’s body, because he’s an alpha now.
Karkat looks away from the mirror and throws on his ugly pink bathrobe to cover himself, for his sake rather than Terezi’s, then he goes over to take a seat at his desk. A notebook filled with his various scribblings is already open there, and he turns his head to glare at Terezi. Fuck, she knows he hates when she reads his shit before it’s finished!
Being asleep, Terezi doesn’t notice.
With a sigh, he returns his attention to the notebook and turns to a new page so he can write down everything he can remember about his true mate. He wishes the boy said his name along with all the other shit he was saying.