storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-02-11 08:56 am
storypaint) wrote2009-02-11 08:56 am
Entry tags:
Ruled by the Moon (Inuyasha gen)
Title: Ruled by the Moon
Day/Theme:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
31_days_exchnge: 9. strips of the sky fallen through me on high, /are each paved with the moon and these
Series: Inuyasha
Character/Pairing: Inuyasha gen
Rating: G
Length: 201 words
Other: pre-series
Excerpt: But the new moon owns him, body and soul, and he hates it.
Inuyasha is a dog, not a wolf. He's not a full demon and the moon shouldn't have a hold on him at all, he thinks.
But the new moon owns him, body and soul, and he hates it. It's the one night a month that he can't pretend to be full demon (as if they couldn't smell it), that he can't slice the naysayers to pieces. It is the night that he is human and alone, hidden away and pacing his hiding place like, yes, a caged wolf.
The world smells wrong and he can't see anything like he should. He can't even muster a proper growl. He knows it isn't safe to sleep like this, but he always wakes in the morning, crouched down against some hard surface with his claws clutched in the dirt or the tree or the cave floor.
Then, his hair is rough and silver, and his eyes are bright, and there is nothing to fear, except for those things a lone wolf always fears-- wandering into a bad territory, incursions by other wolves, nothing to hunt.
And the next moon, of course, but that's 27 days away. He'll be all right until then.
Day/Theme:
31_days_exchnge: 9. strips of the sky fallen through me on high, /are each paved with the moon and theseSeries: Inuyasha
Character/Pairing: Inuyasha gen
Rating: G
Length: 201 words
Other: pre-series
Excerpt: But the new moon owns him, body and soul, and he hates it.
Inuyasha is a dog, not a wolf. He's not a full demon and the moon shouldn't have a hold on him at all, he thinks.
But the new moon owns him, body and soul, and he hates it. It's the one night a month that he can't pretend to be full demon (as if they couldn't smell it), that he can't slice the naysayers to pieces. It is the night that he is human and alone, hidden away and pacing his hiding place like, yes, a caged wolf.
The world smells wrong and he can't see anything like he should. He can't even muster a proper growl. He knows it isn't safe to sleep like this, but he always wakes in the morning, crouched down against some hard surface with his claws clutched in the dirt or the tree or the cave floor.
Then, his hair is rough and silver, and his eyes are bright, and there is nothing to fear, except for those things a lone wolf always fears-- wandering into a bad territory, incursions by other wolves, nothing to hunt.
And the next moon, of course, but that's 27 days away. He'll be all right until then.