The Enid Sinclair of two years ago would have died.
She would not have seen the attack coming, distracted in her shopping or in some conversation or exchange of messages. Or perhaps she would have, for her wolfish senses had always been acute even before her first transformation, but inexperience and fear would have paralyzed her like a fawn in front of the headlights of a speeding truck.
Perhaps, if fortune were on her side, her instincts and reflexes would have allowed her to dodge that first attack by the skin of her teeth, but her subsequent reaction would have been to flee. The Enid Sinclair of two years ago was no coward, let's make that clear, but she was more a sixteen-year-old girl than anything else. There aren't many girls that age who would have reacted any differently.
But that would have been the Enid Sinclair of two years ago. Before her wolfing out.
Before Wednesday Addams.
The Enid Sinclair of the present, the eighteen-year-old woman with the scarred face that would have been the pride of a warrior of ancient times, was a beast of an entirely different kind from her old self. Yes, she was still bubbly, and friendly, and liked colors and bringing joy to her loved ones. She liked k-pop, kitten videos, and stuffed animals. Bluey was her favorite cartoon. She enjoyed knitting clothes for her friends and her girlfriend...
... but she would also be willing to decapitate with her claws anyone who put her loved ones in danger. The blood that two years ago would make her faint was hardly something worth considering when the wolf inside her growled with fury.
If anything, the promise of its metallic smell was enticing.
Thus, today's Enid Sinclair rose from the sidewalk she had thrown herself onto to dodge a fireball with an animalistic snarl, her eyes glowing golden, her claws extended, soft fur beginning to cover her arms, and her shoes and the bottom of her pants bursting again to make room for digitigrade legs and feet. She didn't hesitate to cross the street at a run, looking to hunt down the culprit whose silhouette she had seen at the top of the building across the street, scurrying away.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, her more rational self kept repeating that this was a bad idea, that she was forgetting what she had promised Wednesday, that she was putting herself in danger. But her wolf could only think of what an attack like that could have done to someone who didn't have her reflexes. If the enemy had attacked her, wouldn't they try the same thing against Wednesday? The girls?
Enid would rip out the enemy's entrails before they could even think about it.
Although she was moving more by instinct than anything else, Enid fought the urge to jump up and start climbing up the front of the building until she reached the roof. Jericho was not a town with very tall buildings, usually no more than two or three stories, but that would have been an unnecessary waste of energy, especially if her hunch that the enemy had already descended turned out to be right.
Guided by her sense of smell, having already perfectly memorized the scent of her attacker, Enid chose to enter the adjacent alley. There, at the other end, she could again see the silhouette of her prey emerging from the shadows. It was difficult to distinguish whether it was a man or a woman, wearing what appeared to be a loose-fitting trench coat with a hood that concealed their features.
"Hey!" shouted Enid, though from her partially transformed throat the word sounded more like a growl.
The figure seemed to turn. There was alarm in all their body language. They lifted their left hand, where they seemed to hold...
Is that a fucking wand!?
That was what crossed Enid's mind before three discharges of colorful light detonated from the object held by the enemy in their raised hand. Three balls of light of three different colors flew through the air across the alleyway in Enid's direction.
Enid dodged the first colored globe by leaning to the left in one swift motion. The orb of green light struck an old metal trash can next to the wall of the alley. The metal immediately began to melt at the point of impact, as if corroded by a powerful acid.
The second orb was a reddish color and Enid immediately recognized it as one identical to the one from the first attack on the main street. This time she had to pivot again to her left. The ball of concentrated magic and heat flew past her almost grazing her face before crashing to the ground behind her in a small explosion of flame and smoke.
The third orb was a light blue, almost whitish, and Enid realized with dismay that she would not be able to completely evade it.
The lycanthrope crossed her arms in front of her and the magical attack crashed into them.
Enid felt as if she was hit by something huge, like a vehicle, and realized she was flying backwards from the impact as an unpleasant cold sensation spread through her arms. As luck would have it, her sweater took the brunt of the damage and was covered in brittle frost. Beneath the fabric, the thick fur of her half-transformed arms shielded her from suffering more serious damage to her epidermis from the unexpected blast of freezing cold.
She fell to the ground with a thud, but ignoring the pain and coldness in her arms, the she-wolf stood up again after rolling backwards.
At the other end of the alley, the shape of the enemy had disappeared.
Enid ran until she reached the exit of the alley and found herself back in the streets of Jericho. A deep, irritated growl escaped her throat as she realized with frustration that the trail was gone. It was as if the scent had faded, as if her prey had vanished into thin air. She looked around but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Only a few passersby, residents of the town, mildly alarmed to see a half-transformed werewolf suddenly emerge from a dark alley.
She was suddenly overcome with a sense of alarm as she realized how exposed she was.
Every rooftop of the nearby buildings, every half-open window... all seemed to her like potential points of attack. The growl in her throat turned to a whine and the more rational side of Enid Sinclair's personality asserted itself again. She backed slowly into the alley, keeping her eyes on the surrounding rooftops and ignoring the stares of the few passersby.
Her golden eyes returned to their natural blue. Her claws retracted and the soft fur disappeared from her body and face. She noticed how her teeth also returned to a more human size. She felt the cold on her naked legs and again bare feet and this time a very human-like whimper escaped her mouth.
"Great, Enid. Two pairs of pants and two pairs of sneakers shredded in one day."
She repressed the urge to smack her forehead and took a deep breath to finish calming herself down.
It wasn't just the lack of pants and footwear. Part of her sweater was covered with frost. Enid removed it with some difficulty as the fabric had become semi-frozen and stiff in the arm area, beginning to crack. It was beyond repair, which left her with only a tank top and her shredded pants. Leaving Jericho and heading back to Nevermore seemed like the best idea at the time. No way could she finish shopping looking like she'd just gotten out of a fight.
And then she heard it. Behind her back.
The snapping of fingers.
Enid turned immediately, but by the time she finished a familiar figure had already materialized in front of her. A new Wednesday Addams was standing next to her in the alley and Enid couldn't help but widen her eyes at the sight of the newcomer.
Oh my God, she's so tiny!
The child in front of her was obviously Wednesday Addams. Hair pulled back in pigtails, somber black dress and pale complexion. But she couldn't have been more than five or six years old, visibly younger than Friday.
The little girl seemed slightly disoriented for a few moments, as if surprised by the location she was in. When her gaze focused on Enid she frowned slightly. Her expression certainly didn't have Friday's effusiveness, but neither did it have Needler's manic monotony. There was no trace of Woe's pent-up anger or her Wednesday's fierce emotional control. If Enid were trying to describe the expression on the little one's face, she would have used terms like reserved politeness. Her face was marked by a seriousness that seemed out of place in a very small child, but there was no malice, anger or alarm, only a glint of curiosity in her eyes.
Enid thought it was adorable.
And then the child spoke, "Is this a kidnapping?"
Oh dear, thought Enid as she knelt down so she could talk face to face with the little girl, trying to plaster a reassuring smile on her face that didn't denote her nervousness.
"No, no, this is not a kidnapping," the she-wolf replied, wondering how she could explain the situation to such a little girl as her wolf instincts screamed at her to grab the puppy and get out of that place.
"Oh," muttered the child. She seemed genuinely disappointed at Enid's response, as if being kidnapped was something to get her hopes up, "Who are you? And where are we?" she asked.
"Well... my name is Enid Sinclair, and this is a town called Jericho. And you got here by accident."
"What kind of accident?"
"Uh... a magical one."
The girl nodded, as if that meager explanation was sufficient and more than satisfactory. She held out her hand in front of Enid by way of greeting.
"I'm Wednesday Addams," she said.
Enid smiled and took the little girl's hand in a delicate handshake, "Nice to meet you Wednesday, though I've met more than one Wednesday Addams before."
The little girl tilted her head, curious, "How's that?"
"It's a very long story and it involves your presence here," Enid said. Her expression became serious but she kept her tone of voice gentle as she addressed the young Addams girl, "Look, this place isn't safe. If you let me I can take you to someone who will be better able to answer your questions and help you get home."
Little Wednesday stared at Enid with a serious intensity that reminded the werewolf of the young adult Wednesday. Finally, she nodded.
"Okay.”
Enid proceeded to take the child in her arms and stood up. The little girl instinctively wrapped her arms around Enid's neck.
"Ah... Does the color of my shirt bother you?" asked Enid as she realized that she was now wearing her soft pink sleeveless tank top from the waist up. Little Wednesday looked at the clothes for a moment before shaking her head in negation, "No. But you'd look better in black."
Apparently she also had no problem with Enid being barefoot.
Enid let out a giggle, "You're not the first one to tell me that."
Enid broke into a run with a firm grip on the precious cargo she now carried in her arms.
She crossed the streets of Jericho towards the exit of the town, ignoring the few inhabitants who noticed her presence. Instead of following the road to Nevermore, Enid opted to cut through the woods. Before doing so, she asked little Wednesday if it would be all right.
"I like spooky woods!" was the little girl's reply. The cheerfulness in her tone of voice contrasted with the seriousness of her face, although Enid could recognize the anticipation in her features.
The werewolf smiled, "There are no spookier woods than these, kiddo!"
And so Enid Sinclair continued her run through the trees, straight ahead toward Nevermore. Her thoughts turning over her current situation, the attack in Jericho and how furious Wednesday would be about Enid trying to hunt down the intruder on her own. The little storm forming in her mind was cut short when she noticed a gentle touch on her cheek.
Little Wednesday was tracing the outline of the scars on Enid's face with her fingers.
"What happened?", asked the little kid in her arms.
Enid took a few seconds to respond. Although she had learned to accept her scars and even take pride in them, a part of herself would always feel some apprehension about talking over the issue.
"I... I got them in a fight with a monster."
Little Wednesday looked at her with wide eyes, and despite the ever-present seriousness in the little girl's face, Enid could see the gleam of wonder and delight in her childlike gaze. The she-wolf surprised herself at the strong impulse she felt that such a look should be protected and treasured.
"Amazing," said the little girl, before turning her attention back to the scars, "They're cool. You're cool," she stated, as if it were an absolute truth while a small smile appeared on her face.
Enid smiled back, "Heh, thanks pup."
Hum, Pup, she thought, I guess I already have a nickname for her.
NOTES
The art of Enid in the collage comes from @lesly-oh in Tumblr.
Well, here she is. The Wednesday from the 60's TV series played by Lisa Loring. Friday is a big sister now.
I do declare that the world needs more feral and unhinged Enid Sinclair. And let her be more acrobatic in season 2. Have you seen Emma Myers' training videos? Let her use that.
Also... I don't want to risk spoiling anything, but if you want to visualize what Enid looks like in my head in a partial wolf out, watch Tim Burton's Dark Shadows. There's a character there that will give you an idea of what I have in mind.
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