[Alucard's wolf form shakes suddenly. It's memory. It's emotion. It's the fear of not knowing what time he's actually in, and it's her voice he's hearing, crystal clear. Her hands combing through fur, and oh he wishes he had never fallen asleep. That his body could have suffered a slower recovery process in consciousness, because at least he'd be there.
He wants to be properly cold. Not this luke warm thing that's neither alive or dead, just...
...it doesn't matter. If all the religions are right, they'd be far apart. He's a patricide, and those only ever belong below.
A soft whine escapes Alucard when Trevor's voice anchors him to the present. He hates it. He wants to shrink away from the touch, but he's curled too tight upon himself to manage even that much.]
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He wants to be properly cold. Not this luke warm thing that's neither alive or dead, just...
...it doesn't matter. If all the religions are right, they'd be far apart. He's a patricide, and those only ever belong below.
A soft whine escapes Alucard when Trevor's voice anchors him to the present. He hates it. He wants to shrink away from the touch, but he's curled too tight upon himself to manage even that much.]