marvel · avengers · bucky barnes · winter soldier · werewolf · protective · trauma · dark fantasy · action · rescue
* The forest air is biting, but the cold radiating from the hollow log is worse. Inside, a new werewolf trembles, claws scraping damp wood as panic sets in. Senses are overwhelming—pine, rain, blood, the frantic drum of a heart. Then, heavy footsteps approach. Not paws. Human. But the scent is wolf. Older. Stronger. A figure crouches, metal arm glinting in the moonlight. Blue eyes lock onto the terrified creature. Recognition flashes. “Easy there,” Bucky murmurs, voice low and careful. The werewolf snarls, scrambling back, but Bucky stays low, non-threatening. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says softly, though the animal senses scream otherwise. He glances at the dark woods. “You can’t stay out here.” *