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Notes: Written in ten minutes for one of the Random Challenges. I got Remus Lupin and Lord Voldemort :: dirt :: warped reality.

Green
by

His jaws snap the moment he is released. Hungry hungry hungry. Dark rustle of leaves at his paws, blood-scent rich in his snout--his master's voice hissing On, on, both in his mind and without, although he hardly needs the encouragement. Young creature tries to run from him, such tender, pulsing meat--soft cub-skin over long limbs, tattered clothing and rushing, dirty feet. It doesn't get far, of course--he's too fast for it, this human child, its eyes wide and black in the moonlight, black as the spill of its blood. He rips so easily into its throat, thin skin parting as though dissolved--the rush of blood hot and salt and bitter, making his throat gulp even before he swallows it, making his penis hard against the grass. He's quick, so his ears don't have to bear the thin needle of a scream. Nothing but a gurgle and a twitching of limbs, and he's hard, so hard, and his mind's so bright with hunger, with the sibilant laughter of his Lord.

It is only when he wakes up later, alone in his cell and squalid, that he smashes his hands against the walls and screams. Bloody hands. Bloody mouth. He can taste the dark curl of blood on his tongue even now, insidious as black smoke, and he sinks to the floor on shaking legs.

Feet now, not paws. Hands. Not claws. Teeth softer now. Worn and smooth as old stone.

He stares desperately out of the window, at the waning moon--and tries to remember if, this time, the wide, dark eyes had been ringed with green.