The television was playing an Invader Zim cartoon with the sound muted. Wolf watched a big headed boy being attacked by a small green alien with spider legs growing out of a pod on his back and unconsciously rubbed her chest where something that didn't exist had slashed her.
Declán stared at his sister. "What the fuck was that?" They'd been watching Hitchcock DVDs last night and fallen asleep on the lounge, but her unexpected wake up had dropped him to the floor.
The knife disappeared as Wolf helped her brother to his feet, before she settled back across the furniture, the orange dreadlocks neatly tied atop her head bobbing gently. Declán opted for the Barcelona on the other side of the room and wondered again at his sister's choice of hairstyle. She had a history of wildly veering between doing nothing or doing something completely stupid. Her argument for practicality was fair enough for most people, but it just didn't work for a werewolf and he was curious to see how she handled shifting with dreads.
A vase of white lilies stood on the table beside Declán's seat, curved, exotic, delicate and very beautiful. Wolf liked them, but they were definitely his touch. She wouldn't have thought to bring something so transient into their house, she never could get her head around things like social niceties and flowers.
"You tell me." She scratched her chest through a black cartoon print t-shirt, scowling at the memory of the nightmare that woke her. "That came out of your head."
Stretching and scrubbing his hands through short grey hair, Declán snorted. If she hadn't woken in the sudden flurry of must kill something that had dislodged him from both sleep and lounge, he might have had enough dream recall to be of use. "Perhaps if you gave me a hint," he suggested, having more of an urge to stay safely out of reach until Wolf stopped bouncing off the walls.
"Tentacles." One word and yet she managed to invest it with a whole spectrum of distaste, although it did lean heavily towards the entrails end of the spectrum. Normally Wolf had no problem with tentacles, she was fond of all manner of multiple limbed underwater invertebrates and even fonder of eating them. But the tentacles from her dream were far from a watery domain, extremely mucousy and painfully acidic. Why he couldn't of something normal, she didn't know.
Declán raised an eyebrow, waiting for Wolf to supply a little more detail.
"Purple. Shiny." Wolf tried to grab the fast fleeing fragments of her dream. "And I think it had a carapace." She was certain it was shiny, but not so sure whether the shiny was down to mucous or a hard outer shell.
"Ah," the tall elegantly dressed man rose and opened the storage cabinet beside the television. Declán had a gift for making anything look good, his sister was the opposite, having more in common with Columbo's fashion sense than was good for anyone. Running a finger along a shelf he selected an item and tossed a plastic case to Wolf. "It's a Roosharkel."
Turning the box over, Wolf saw her dream monster. It was a demon in a game. A first person shooter game that came with a delightful array of accessories like rail guns. She looked at Declán with the same expression she bestowed on sharp things. "Fire up the Playstation, Dec. I need to behead, dismember and disembowel pixel beasts." If shiny, purple tentacled things were intent on escaping into her head, then eyeballs and intestines were going to be rearranged by way of improbably large weapons.
Passing a controller to his sister, Declán prepared to be soundly thrashed. He wasn't too worried, he got his own back when he ran her off the road in the racing games. "Oi! The guy in green is my monster hunter." He rescued his game character from a friendly fire assault and sighed as he settled back to explain the fine distinctions between the good guys and bad guys in game land.
Part of the Wolf&Declán!verse