A/N: Cathartic is co-writing this with me, and titling and lyrics in summary are borrowed from ZZ Ward's song, check it out. :)

CANNONBALL

Story synopsis: Sirius Black finds himself hurled into an alternate universe. That is where he meets Remus Lupin: the leader to a pack of prehistoric-like and cutthroat werewolves.

-Lupin-

Sirius Black shot a quick look over his shoulder in growing alarm. He was running at top speed through a thick forest. He wasn't the type to just run when he was scared, but this wasn't what he was used to, not even close.

The six-foot-three brunet cursed as he stumbled over a shallow root, his right ankle protesting loudly at the misstep, and he stopped for a second to lean over and catch his breath, his side burning.

"Shit. Shit."

Grey eyes clenched shut, and visions that were too unbelievable to acknowledge flashed through his racing mind, his heart pounding in his throat. He couldn't focus on it, it wouldn't—

He forced himself immediately up when he heard a twig snap from somewhere behind him. He searched the dark woods, the limbs to the trees sprawling and dark with dampness, the leaves all fern-like. Ferns, the first trees, he remembered learning that in an introductory biology class his first semester at Stanford.

Sirius swallowed hard, his throat raw and his chest heaving as he focused on listening for another sound. It wouldn't help to reminisce; he wasn't in that world anymore.

There was another snap, and Sirius spun immediately to face the noise, his eyes searching frantically for movement. Then. He saw it.

An animal not much larger than a chicken with feathers was staring up at him.

Sirius carefully stepped back, scanning the area for others. They hunted in groups he thought he remembered Regulus telling him a few years back. He spotted another, just a little behind him to his left. Then he heard a snap directly behind him. "Oh no."

He spun around, his pocket knife out.

Everything went black.

"He smells weird."

Sirius could feel the rough un-tanned leather bag around his head scraping against his eyelids, so he kept them shut. He tried to open his mouth only to find it gagged with a piece of cloth that tasted of sand, dirt, salt, and iron.

"I said back up," a voice said gruffly when Sirius felt something touch his bare foot, which he jerked away from reflexively. His bound hands clenched into fists, skin rubbing raw against the thin ropes he was tied with. "We wait until Lupin is back."

"Hmmph." The response was dissatisfied.

Sirius tried to swallow around his gag but choked instead. It seemed his life was in "Lupin's" hands, now. He plead with whatever divinities might exist that whoever that was took pity on him, but at the same time he began to twist his wrists, fighting desperately to get loose and ignoring how it cut into his flesh.

The ocean blew a misty breeze on to the bit of skin exposed where his shirt was pulled up. He was laying on some grass, or leaves, or something.

"I'm pretty hungry," a voice said. Sirius couldn't help but feel it was in his direction despite being unable to see the speaker. He held back a groan as he tried to find solid ground to push himself up without his hands.

"Wait, Fenrir."

There was no response, only growls that must have come from the undergrowth, animalistic as they were, when Sirius managed to get onto his knees, his tongue unfathomably dry, a gag hanging back but threatening.

Heaving uncomfortably for breath under the bag, he tried to crawl away on his knees, hoping against hope he would go undiscovered.

His knee caught on to a root and he started to roll.

"You let it get away!"

"Where was he gonna go?"

Suddenly the voices went quiet and Sirius felt something, or someone pick him up and throw him over his shoulder, like he wasn't a fully grown man. The act knocked the breath out of his gut.

"Call everyone to the fire." Sirius felt involuntary chills down his spine at the voice that came from the someone who had tossed him over his shoulder.

"Yes, Lupin."

Oh god.

Sirius squinted, in pain. The bag had been pulled off his head, the one called Lupin had growled something under his breath about inviting all their deaths. The sun was painfully bright. No, that wasn't exactly right, the suns were painfully bright, one shining down on his bare neck and exposed arms, the other right in his vision, making it hard to make out anything but vague shapes and black dots.

"Whose tribe is he from?"

Sirius tried to answer for himself, but he ended up choking instead, and he raged against his ties furiously, his ankles tied now too.

"Has he been doing that a lot?" was asked quietly... Lupin's voice Sirius thought, but he wasn't sure, because he was dry heaving. A low rumble of voices followed, and then Sirius felt a hand touch his shoulder. He flinched away and began struggling again, breathing harder—

"Stop that." The words quiet but spoke with such absolute certainty Sirius stopped in confusion. The dirty cloth was pulled out of his mouth and rolled down his chin until it lay loosely around his neck. "Can you remain silent?"

Sirius blinked a few times, a shadow hiding him from one of the suns... his thoughts began to drift away from him as anxiety—

A hand grasped his chin firmly, straining his neck. "If you want to live, your answer is yes."

Sirius wrinkled his forehead and nodded as he finally began to focus on the world around him, everything too large and foreign.

He was surrounded by men, most in a form of leather armor. Scars donned all of their exposed skin.

Green eyes.

Sirius blinked hard, eyes burning a little. Green eyes were staring down into his own.

The man above him was clean-shaven, sandy blond, surprisingly young. Though his face was unmarred, he was wearing only a pair of tan pants and a tattered white t-shirt, which showed that he also bore the scars the rest of the men had.

Lupin.

It felt weird to have a face to that name after the time he had spent in the sack.

He moved his dry tongue back and forth uncomfortably.

The suns were beginning to dim, one already on the horizon and the other still strangely high in the sky. The light from the distant gas giants splayed across the enormous leaves on the flora around him. Everything was unnaturally large.

Sirius couldn't help but jump, grey eyes wide, when an eagle, nearly the size of a man, flew overhead. The shadows of its wings were ominous.

"Fucking argies," one of the men muttered.

Lupin said nothing, only looked over to one of the others—they had to be his inferiors, with the way they deferred to him—and a fire was lit.

Stones surrounded the dry wood that was burning, the smell foreign and earthy underneath the smoke. Sirius felt himself sat up, because the guy 'Lupin' had just lifted him again and sat him upright.

"Try to look like you aren't dinner," Lupin growled.

Sirius blinked rapidly as his mind fought to process too many things. He didn't know how he'd ended up where he was or where he was, and the people who'd tied him up were definitely not normal... not to mention the animals. He said nothing, his only reaction his chest heaving more rapidly again, because he did want to live.

"Good." The man called Lupin stood quietly. "Undress him."

Sirius let out a muffled noise of disgruntlement as his shirt was torn away harshly with a sharp blade by an oversized man with eyes that were almost black. He sat more upright, clenching his jaw when a heavy silence fell over the space. The fire crackled deep blue and green as the one sun began to dip behind tall trees, the other still high in the sky beginning to subtly turn from yellow to green, and a inhuman scream sounded far away.

The leader Lupin sat down on a fallen tree, the others following his lead and backing away but for one who pulled Sirius to his feet roughly. The silence continued, and Sirius cleared his dry throat softly.

"Where are your scars?"

Sirius looked down at his heavily heaving chest and then back up, uncertain.

"Answer me."

Sirius blinked rapidly. He flinched slightly, and then he said in a low, rough voice, his throat parched, "Scars?"

"Cut him down," Lupin's voice cut into the air with finality. Everyone else went silent.

Sirius gasped a little as he found himself finally unbound. He hit the ground on his bruised knees. Hissing in pain, he squinted up at the approaching leader of the group of apparent savages.

A hand was extended to him.

The sandy blond man with scars had said nothing more. He had guided Sirius to his tent—or herded him into it, more accurately—and kept the tent shut behind him. Sirius had barely moved since, and there he sat, simply looking into a bowl of stew, unmoving.

Outside, some sort of terrifying celebration was taking place. There was the steady beat of drums in an upbeat, musical way, as well as loud voices. Sirius could see hand shadows being formed from the glow of the flames through the tent's thinner entrance. They were telling a story.

"Who are you?" the man asked suddenly breaking the silence, the sound of his voice surprisingly more modern in privacy. "My name is Remus. Now yours."

Sirius wet dry, cracked lips still abstaining from the food in the wooden carved dish. He had, after all, been previously suggested as their meal so he wasn't too sure about the stew steaming before him. "Black."

"I see... Black, are you royalty?"

Sirius turned his gaze up finally. He warily eyed the leader, giant shadows only growing behind him as the ground rumbled from the stomping feet of Lupin's tribe. "My parents might think so," he actually managed to joke.

The man studied him closely. "Do you joke with me?"

Sirius felt a level of apprehension grow inside his chest he'd not thought previously possible. "I was in my school, not here, in a different world. My professor asked me to check his new experiment... I think I fell in."

The blond man with intense green eyes squatted down beside him, his demeanor unsettling. He felt like he might turn on him at any moment without a second thought. He took a few moments to respond. "You don't repeat this, do you understand?"

Sirius nodded slightly. "What do I say?"

The man took a few more moments, then he stood slowly. "Nothing. You say nothing, Black."

"It's Sirius, Sirius Black," Sirius said, swallowing.

Eyebrows furrowed. "Sirius Black. Like the star?" He pointed up as he spoke, and then Sirius's eyes widened. The top of the tent shone thousands of tiny lights in an unnatural, almost magical way.

"Yeah?" Lupin gestured to one of the brightest blue gas giants.

Sirius stared up in amazement, the sight something out of another world. "Yeah..."

The leader of the monsters threw a searching look around the tent, like he expected someone to enter at any moment. "You're mine now."

Sirius's mind stuttered. "I—wha—"

"Mine." The blond turned to him, pure raw power emanated from him. "You are mine now, Sirius Black. Unless your wish is to die."

"I'm yours," Sirius replied, mouth dry. His tongue was moving faster than his mind.

What was happening to him?