A/N: I was not in the best mental state when I typed this chapter. Hopefully it's not that bad.
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*WHOOSH!*
Tristan dodge backwards to avoid the clawed swipe from Brett only for him to welcome the kick that connected too fast to his midsection that forcefully took the air out of his lungs.
"You're still sloppy. I don't how you are able to react to anything happening to you and also be that sloppy. If I didn't know you as much as I do, I'd think you were zoning out mid-fight." Brett grunted as he massaged his shoulders that still had to deal with the morning cramps.
"You don't need to feel that bad though since It'll naturally be hard to deal with me who've had years to get used to my heightened movements." Tristan nodded his head and pushed himself off the ground and patted his butt.
It was basic knowledge that any supernatural should have at least some method of self-protection given the interchangeably relationship between them and their world. It took only a second for a hunter to turn hunted.
It was the reason why supernaturals with greater physical capabilities than others often find themselves being exertive in their daily life, focusing on either sports or something that dealt with energy exertion or hard labor. It would be a waste to not put their gifts into use after all.
Since Tristan and Malia spend most of their time indoors, they sometimes find themselves looking for alternate ways to expend the excess energy they accumulate everyday which fortunately Satomi was able to deal with by suggesting frequent 'spars' since they clearly weren't that much of the meditative sort, especially Malia.
While they did keep to most of her teachings and also those of the Ancient Buddhists, a wolf was a wolf at the end of a day, as Satomi would always say when their brute actions were brought to her notice. Too bad they ended up in a pack where self-productivity was their pivotal point, not that they were complaining.
"It's Saturday and apart from practice at noon, I'm free all day. We need to resharpen your fangs before the start of the new year… I meant that figuratively. Doubly so for Malia."
"Well, fuck me." Tristan cursed under his breath, not caring of the fact that Brett clearly heard him.
It wasn't actually a fault on his part as there were bound to be a few disparity when the person concerned had a very low danger sense when compared to other 'animalistic' supernaturals in a quite straightforward, blunt and literal way. Very quite often would he find himself remembering spontaneous moments of his earliest memories. Vivid picturesque motions of still nights, warm furs and bright half-moons. It was the same reason why they, at most times, find themselves gravitating towards the forest. Those were the most serene memories either of them had and also the most peaceful. And despite though that their actions and thoughts were very different, they represented the teachings Satomi taught them in their own way, wanting nothing but serenity and yet always using the beast in them to strive for it in a way that was completely opposite to their teachings.
For a pack, their every action and conduct were a reflection of the teachings of their Alpha as it was basic for all Alphas to have their betas in line at all times, whether they were present or not. It was also very reminiscent of the way they hunt in packs and why every hunter who hunts a wolf should always expect to see the retaliation of its pack.
No other animal in the wild and those domesticated by man showcased the strength and value of a bond as much as the wolves did. A bond that all but sired the Betas to their Alphas that the very act of betrayal and rebellion cursed them to be hated and shunned by all packs, leaving them with no other option than to migrate from their valley and true family to a one where they aren't known, which in all honestly didn't reduce their stigma in any way.
After all, who in their right mind will let the lone wolf into their midst?
There was a common knowledge among every supernatural – A wolf is always stronger in a pack.
Since they acted as a reflection to their pack and Alpha, the concept of strength in numbers becomes a reality to them; growing stronger, faster and fiercer in every physical and literal way. As much as a blessing as it was to the nightcrawlers, it was also a curse, too basic was it known, that the most easiest way to completely destroy a wolf's pack is to go for the wolf that strayed from the pack.
So whether they liked it or not, they were expected and bound to represent Satomi in every area of their lives. They are expected to be strong if she was strong and compassionate if she was kind. So even if they act in a way sometimes alien to Satomi's teachings, no one doubted their loyalty and respect to the old woman who took them under her fangs.
That was the reason why both of them couldn't refuse the expressive requests of Satomi.
It was the reason why Satomi made sure they were able to protect themselves from certain amounts of danger. Unfortunately for Tristan, being able to fully protect yourself was heavily dependent on how you sense and react to danger. It was the simple law of the jungle that only those who are able to adapt and react to changes were eligible to pass the natural selection. Tristan's case were somehow special.
Satomi had no idea what kind of human child he was except for the fact that he was the best candidate to be her Beta than she'd ever seen in her life.
Even as a human, he imprinted on Malia exactly like a wolf, or exactly as she had done on him – reflecting the actions of an ideal Beta to an Alpha. It was what made her hesitant on giving him the bite as she was worried about if he didn't have enough time to form an image of himself, despite it being a mouthwatering delectable to most Alphas, Satomi had grown to appreciate self-productivity in her long life.
Unfortunately, he had mirrored a part of Satomi in a very bad way.
He was slow to act in the face of danger in a very literal sense as more than everyone, he resonated with Satomi's reclusiveness the most, only acting when he was attacked instead of at the show of hostility. While a humble way of living, Brett would argue that Tristan took it too far, even if he did it subconsciously.
"I'll admit that it sometimes gets irritating to see how different you are from Malia. She'll try to rip out my throat at any given chance." His eyes flashed golden yellow as he readied himself for any avenue of Tristan's attack.
"I'll love to rip out your throat at any chance I get, but we both know if I act on that urge you'll still be able to make me regret it." Aside from how different he perceived danger, he still had to control his emotions every now and then but it got more harder to keep yourself from lashing out the more you were provoked.
Unlike the werewolves of Satomi's pack, there was a fact about him that made him different in nature from them; it was how susceptible he was to blood and bloodlust. While wolves relished the thrill of the hunt and devouring of the fallen prey, all he cared about was drawing as much blood as he could and giving back the pain he received. It was due to the clash of all these different sensations that slowed how he reacted to danger. His bestial instincts, his Alpha's ideals, his own thoughts and most importantly, how he perceived the incoming danger – for someone who had learnt how to experience emotions from others, these strong feelings clashing at the same time was enough for him to blank out a few times during conflicts. The main reason for this was the lack of identity he had experienced.
Regardless of the shortcomings he has at first sight, the nature of a beast is truly shown when he bares his fangs.
Unfortunately, that still didn't prevent Brett from throwing him against the hard ground.
"Why do you even look so strained early in the morning? Your movements are slower than usual." Brett uncorked the water bottle and took a swing of it while Tristan remained sprawled on the ground.
"I prefer hunting." A sad thing about Tristan was that, just like every true creature of the night, he was not a morning person.
Brett kept in shape at all times due to his constant lacrosse practice and daily exercises unlike Tristan whose idea of what an exercise was mostly amounts to running through the woods with Malia. They sometimes went hunting, mostly following Malia, and hunted down small animals. It trained their senses and made them more attuned to their surroundings but they had stopped doing that when Brett and Lori got into Devenford. Of course it would only make sense that Brett would start kicking his ass.
"Hunting or not. Your bad habits are starting to show after being too lazy." Brett threw the bottle at him which he caught without even looking at it.
Tristan nodded at his words, not taking it fully to heart, fully aware of the fact that unlike him, Brett and Lori had an easier time getting their emotions under control than he did. They both were born werewolves after all.
Tristan stood up from the ground while taking deep gulps of water and following Brett back into their house.
Brett understood where Tristan was coming from.
Tristan had unnaturally good senses even before he was turned so the only reason he prevented himself from actively reacting to everything around him was due to the fact that he felt too much.
Satomi had once commented on how he was even able to smell the mood of people easily.
It would have been a good thing for him but his bloodlust had ended up ruining it for him. Heightened emotions and bloodlust didn't mix well after all. Satomi had done her best to help him fight those urges, giving him an edge over others when it came to restraining themselves. It took a special kind of temper and tolerance to be able to deal with Malia all day.
He walked inside his room to see Malia sitting crossed legged on their bed with her eyes closed and ignored her in favor of entering the bathroom.
'Maybe going to school won't be so bad since Brett and Lori seem to really enjoy every part of it.' He thought as he sat on the top and let the water flow.
He took in deep breaths as every trickle of the cold water grazed his skin. He was better at meditation than Malia since it actually helped him control his bloodlust and stopped him from acting on every violent impulse he got, so he found himself partaking of the exercise every time he needed peace and quiet or to clear his muddled mind.
'Three things cannot long be hidden; the sun, the moon, and the truth.'
As much as it was a mantra to help them take back control of themselves, it was also a grim reminder that no matter how good they try to hide under the calm façade they project outwards, it still doesn't change the fact that they are monsters deep within. It helped them accept that fact about themselves instead of fearing and running away from it.
The devil you no longer fear can only be your friend.
The more they learn not to fear and lose control of their baser emotions, the more they gain control of themselves.
A stick and carrot method that didn't take away the reality of their situation.
There was a reason they were mostly identified as 'Shapeshifters'. All it would take is a small incident and they would rip off their human mask to bare their fangs.
Deep in his meditation, he failed to notice when someone entered the bathroom.
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