Bloodfang

Gratitude

Feral

If anyone had told Feral that he would be saved by the very same boy he himself had rescued a few days ago, he wouldn't have believed them. Yet here he was.

He had been foolish this morning. Completely and utterly idiotic. He had become, too confident. Too, self-assured. If he had any doubt about this all he had to do was look at his current predicament.

He felt most comfortable in Colorado. If he called any place home then he guessed Colorado would be that. Because it was like home he had let his guard down. The result, a silver bullet shot into his shoulder by a pair of vampires. His cockiness had made it easy for them. His superior flying skills had been the only thing that had saved him. He was still unsure how he had been able to fly so swiftly with a silver bullet in his shoulder.

Adrenaline pumping, his only focus had been on getting away, surviving. He had dodged and darted and soared as if his life depended on it and it had! He had headed toward this house unintentionally but maybe subconsciously on purpose. It had also been the closest place he could think of. He'd known he was not going to be able to fly much further. The silver had been doing its nasty work and there had been a fiery pain he had barely been able to ignore. He had known it would not be much longer before the pain completely incapacitated his wing leaving him grounded and completely vulnerable. He needed to hide and fast. Thankfully the house had come into view and he had dove through the open garage, ripping at doors that led into this underground room beneath the human's home, hiding in the darkness. It had not been perfect but he knew it would do. Nobody would find him here.

Until he had appeared. The boy. The very same boy he had rescued from the vampires. Upon seeing his face again Feral felt irritation along with that same unexplainable curiosity he had felt while watching him a few days ago in the woods. The boy was... interesting. His brain was wired differently than other humans. Wired in a way that appealed to Feral. That was intriguing in of itself. Feral had never been intrigued by a human before.

The boy was also amusing. He had the most transparent expressions. The boy had actually made him want to chuckle out loud. Feral could not remember the last time he felt like chuckling, expelling real humor. The fact annoyed Feral as much as it drew him.

He was brave, too, this boy, Feral acknowledged. Brave and yet riddled with anxiety and fear. He was a conundrum, a jigsaw puzzle of contradictions wrapped up in a teenage boy, the most repulsive kind of human there was. Feral felt as much admiration for him as he felt irritation. The irony was not lost on Feral.

The boy's reaction to finding Feral in the basement had been impressive. He had run the gamut of emotions; his fear had been palatable, his excitement hardly contained, his concern almost stifling, and his resolve had been most admirable. The quirky comments that had come in between this myriad of emotions had been entertaining, especially when he had wondered whether Feral was a girl or a boy and then had actually checked! The peculiar behavior of this young human had greatly helped Feral take his mind off of the excruciating pain running through his shoulder and had helped him tolerate the indignity of being treated like a dog as the kid had checked his sex.

Of course, Feral had to admit, it was not only the peculiar aspects of the boy that had made things more tolerable. The boys caring actions and tender ministrations as he had removed the silver bullet from his wounded shoulder had soothed Feral in a way he did not know he could be. The boy had genuinely wanted to help Feral and help him in the least painful way that he could. His kindness despite his fear had touched Feral. For the first time he could remember he had allowed himself to trust the human and allowed him to tend to his injury, laying passively, when he was not knocked out cold, so that the boy could help him. He had to admit he had even enjoyed the one-sided conversation.

Feral recalled the first moments of their encounter when his pain had peaked at its worse and he had dropped to the floor, no longer able to protect himself. He had had the unexpected thought that he was not ready to die. The boy's voice, his unselfish desire to help, and his gentle touch had pulled Feral back from that darkness that had been enveloping him. When the boy's concerned brown eyes had made contact with his tired pain filled golden ones something... fundamental had shifted inside Feral, a new warm and profound feeling slithered into his cold heart. Before he could give this new feeling a name he had blacked out for a few moments.

The kid had been hard at work when he had come to. Feral had lain quietly, listening to the boy as he worked to help Feral. He had not moved an inch. The boy was already terrified. He did not want to make it worse so he had lay passively under the pain the boy unintentionally inflicted. The profound relief he had felt when the silver bullet was finally removed had been intense. He had wanted to howl his gratitude and relief. He had restrained himself, of course. He could only imagine how the boy would have reacted to that. Not to mention he had not wanted to lead the vampires to this haven. That would have put both him and the boy in danger.

Feral had been impressed by the boys care. He had been careful and diligent. The bandage was well done, but not really necessary, though the boy would not know that. He would not know that what usually took months to heal would take less than a week for Feral now that the silver was removed. Feral had been especially touched when the boy had left him a bowl of water in case he became thirsty.

The bowl of water had touched Feral far deeper than anything that had come before. Yes the boy had saved him, removed the silver bullet from his body, but the water... the water was that extra mile. That extra thoughtful step that no one, other than his mother, had ever taken for Feral in his life. The fact that it was a terrified human teenager full of fear for him as much as awe, affected Feral deeply and he had felt something he had not felt in a long time. He had felt gratitude, intense appreciation toward another being.

Feral had initially rejected the feeling. How could he feel grateful to a two-legged, after all? But it was not long later, when the had vampires arrived and the boy had continued to care for Feral by denying his presence, despite the stark fear Feral had read clamoring around in his brain. Despite the boys terror he had continued to protect Feral, hide him. He had trusted Feral's voice in his head and lied to the men that terrified him. Gratitude at that moment wasn't a strong enough word to describe the emotional upheaval of feelings taking place in Feral's heart. Something had cracked. The coldness of his father that he had carried around with him all of these years was being melted by the warmth of his mother's memory and the kindness of a two-legged stranger.

Exhausted by his physical pain and emotional awakening, Feral let his head drop down to his paw and he closed his eyes in exhaustion. He needed to sleep, and not just pretend to as he had been doing for the boy every time he had checked in on him. He needed a few days to heal. There was another problem as well, he thought tiredly. Blood. He needed to hunt. It would help him heal faster but he couldn't because of the wound and his adversaries who were no doubt still hunting for his body. He wanted them to think he was dead or at the very least think he had left the area. To do that he needed to lay low for a while. No hunting meant no blood and no blood meant slower healing which meant he would most likely have to stay here about a week.

Feral's last thoughts as his body claimed his mind for a deep healing slumber was fear. Not fear of the vampires finding him, but fear of his newly emotive state. He didn't want to care about someone again. Caring only led to pain. Losing his mother had taught him that. He did not know if he could survive that kind of loss again.