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Flying high above the forest, Cleo spots the moose swimming through one of the small shallow lakes scattered across the forest near their castle. Pearl had sniffed him some time ago, but lost the scent as the beast decided to munch on some aquatic plants. The moose gets on the shore, his wet coat shines in the last golden light of the setting sun. His majestic antlers frame the pale shadow of the full red moon rising over the lakes and the forest.
Cleo circles their prey, moving up and down in the air, signaling to Pearl.
They feel her before they see branches on the bushes nearby move despite the windless autumn evening; they feel her hunger and hunting drive, echoing theirs but more wild, primal. The moose notices too, his ears twitch and his head turns to the sound, but it’s too late.
Pearl jumps out of the bushes, all claws and teeth and ruffled fur. She lands on his backside, her paws slide across his ribs as she bites, aiming for the spine, pushing their prey to the ground.
The moose kicks desperately, almost freeing himself — it looks like Pearl needs some help. Cleo folds her wings and goes down as fast as she can, diving in front of the moose and shifting into the human form. He tries to get them with his antlers, but they grab his head with all their supernatural vampiric strengths and bite on the soft underside of his neck. Pearl growls. Cleo’s mouth is full of wet fur, her fangs barely scratch the skin. The moose fights, and it’s strong, so, so strong. Dark excitement rushes through Cleo’s entire body — powerful prey, fun hunt, worth the effort! The beast’s rear legs give out under Pearl’s weight, he falls on the ground, and Cleo has to get out of the way to not get pinned under his enormous body.
She doesn’t let go though. Her teeth finally find a vein, blood rushes in her mouth, hot and delicious, pumped by a still beating heart. A salty, metallic smell fills the air. The moose screams and trashes its head in a desperate attempt to rise up and get away from two predators. Cleo can barely keep their hold, but then something snaps and the beast slumps, dead.
Did she manage to break his neck? Wow, she definitely gets stronger and stronger!
Pearl got off the moose’s back just in time to not get crushed. She sinks her teeth in and tears out a big fat piece of meat, making rumbling, satisfied sounds. Unbothered by how it looks - why, it's just the two of them here! - Cleo falls on her knees to drink more blood while it still runs hot, to tear the flesh of their prey. Pearl snaps her teeth as Cleo’s hand gets a little too close. They smirk and jokingly try to shove her away, but it’s too much of a magnificent werewolf for Cleo to move with just one hand, so she fails spectacularly. Pearl growls.
“Oh come on, be a good werewolf and behave! I’m not going to steal your meal!” Cleo smiles. “Don’t you want to be a good girl? The best girl ever?”
Pearl gives her a side eye, but her tail wags a few times, because of course she wants to. She has very little emotional control in this form, but it's still very much Cleo’s Pearl under all that fur and muscle.
“That’s right! There’s enough for both of us,” Cleo says and gets back to gorging on their prey.
It’s messy and bloody, Pearl’s head is all red from diving in the open belly of the moose and Cleo’s clothes are beyond sawing. Her mother would’ve disapproved, but, to her own surprise, Cleo appreciates these hunts very much. It's nice to let go. There will be time for civilized drinking from nice glasses. And this time is not today.
When they are done, half of the moose has disappeared into Pearl’s stomach. She gets up, noticeably more round then before, makes a few steps, and plops down under the nearest tree. Well, now there’s no moving her anywhere until she gets at least two hours of rest. Cleo takes off their heavy woolen cloak and puts it on the ground. As soon as she sits down, Pearl is in her face, trying to lick off mud and blood.
“Hey! You smell like a wet dog, stop it!” Cleo laughs, pretending to push her head away.
They need to wash their face in the lake after that “cleaning”, but they don’t really care.
The moon is high, illuminating trees and turning the lake into a silvery mirror. Animal blood is heavy in their stomach, less powerful and exquisite than human blood would be, but somehow it feels like one of the best things that happened to Cleo in their long life. Maybe because Pearl puts her head on Cleo’s lap, and snorts softly, and her ears twitch as she dreams, and she is so, so…
“Ugh!” Cleo murmurs quietly, kissing Pearl's wide furry forehead. “You should stop being so stinking cute.”
Pearl wags her tail.