They were getting bold.

They were getting close.  Too close.

Rangy mountains had been a haven away from the throes of society, from the bustling howl of city life and the more docile affairs of country living.  It was quiet.  It was cold.  Most importantly, it was free.  It was free of the people that would have shunned a life like his.  People that would have held civility over his head, proper this and proper that.  Shun the beast and pretend to be like the mortals.  Why?  What made them better?  At least here, in the untamed mountains of Vufrien, he was allowed to be seen in the face of the wolf.

It was the guise he wore now, a pelt of orange tangled with strands of black and white, a creature with more leg than body.  A beast that hunted his prey.

They'd been nesting in the mountains of late, encroaching upon the maned wolf's domain.  While this one did not harbour the same scent as the mortals of Sanctuary, he still trailed her from a distance, narrowed eyes skeptical as they watched the feminine silhouette.  She smelled of them; the people of Kaisermont.  He thought of them, of their glowering stare, the glow of their eyes, the judgment which lingered behind.  He thought of them and growled low and deep, a soft warning to the human-wolf.

"Leave!"  The human-esque bark would reach out to her mind.  "This is no place for a dog playing human."

There was a chill to the mountain air that was enough to strike anyone even with the thickest of layers into a shivering lest they remain cold as corpses. A thought that Tethys wasn’t sure if she should’ve laughed at the crude humor or grimace with aged spite. Glacial eyes set downcast, watching the movement of her feet while trekking along a beaten path not entirely sure which direction she was heading now – did she make a wrong turn somewhere? Tethys, you silly girl – pay more attention! Something she would’ve heard her mother say in a gentle yet stern chastise. Oh, but what was the fun in that? This could be an opportunity to explore and adventure a little more? Who knows—perhaps she could find a lake or creek to fish or swim? A bonus if there was a waterfall to shower beneath. She’d find her little cottage by streams leading to the ocean eventually.

Leave!

The demand came like a sudden storm. No warning, or inkling hint. Perhaps if she focused in on her senses a little more than she may’ve realized that her solitude had been diminished. Icy gaze blinked as movements came to a halt. There it was again – eyes upon her somewhere, somehow and oftentimes gone amiss or ignored. However, there was a voice to it now. This is no place for a dog playing human. Tethys was not one to catch on to social cues so quickly. Be it insult or insinuating flirting: she brushed them off as if never surfaced. “I think I’ll stay.” She mused responding with a playful lilt. “It’s not the ocean but it’ll do.”


!

The black, stiff hairs along his nape rose their swords in a searing flash of aggression, a violent bravura of hostility burrowed beneath his skin and worming its way into the hum of his chest. Weary gaze. A low snarl. It writhed beneath the unkempt, matted furs of his orange pelt and vibrated the lengthy columns of his legs. Legs that moved across the ground with predatory lethality. Legs that halted at the treeline where he could fully see the gentle softness of a woman - a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Why? Why was she like so many of their ilk who paraded the streets in their silks and cotton instead of the forests with fur and talon? They were apt, eager to abandon the wilds where they were truly free. Wolves didn't belong in cities to be caged in homes of stone and steel. At least this one didn't.

"I think I'll stay." Kongen blinked once, then thrice, at the sheer audacity. "It's not the ocean but it'll do."

"The hell you will!" The vocal invasion sought her mind, a magical intonation severed from the physical growl that shook the pillar of his throat. "You city-folk think you can come strolling through the woods as you damn well please. Take what you want, give nothing back. Betcha wouldn't walk into your neighbour's house and do the same, would ya?"

He took a deep breath, another, each was a frail attempt to stifle the savagery flashing behind the piercing, seeking stare that wanted to tear her apart, that wanted to rend her limb from limb until his sanctuary was liberated of her city stink. He wanted the quiet of the forest, the song of the trees, the chime of the beasts, and the solitude that came with it. It was safer that way. Safer for himself - safer for others.

"Besides," He'd start with an exasperated sigh. "Your ocean is back that way." He'd motion with his head back towards the direction of Kaisermont. The land of traitors.

The hell you will!

There was aggression in their tone. It was there – present as the very sun that claimed the skies as the moon took hold of the night. Ah… what was the moon phase tonight again? Still, Tethys remained nonchalant to the heated simmer of words, fueling the sparks of anger. You city-folk think you can come strolling through the woods as you damn well please. A dark chocolate brow rose upon sun-kissed features, befuddled by the strangers direction. City-Folk? She bit back the laugh for now, allowing him to continue on his banter; Take what you want, give nothing back. Betcha wouldn’t walk into your neighbor’s house and do the same, would ya? “You’re a little odd, yeah?” She mused with continued playful mirth.

“First time anyone referred to me as ‘city-folk’.” She chuckled. Though, perhaps it was a compliment? She shrugged her shoulders but not without wincing at the strain of her shoulder after the long hours of previous labors of hunting and merchant work. It would ebb away eventually. Perhaps after a hot bath even. Tethys mulled over the idea again, nearly forgetting of the screaming company. They may mention of where the ocean was. She simply nodded with acknowledgement. “Yeah, I know where its at.” She regarded; “But I live out here, so…” she gestured with her he hands in vague manner.

“I take it you do too? Didn’t realize I had neighbors.”


!

"You're a little odd, yeah?" His body tensed at the sheer audacity, her boldness uncanny and unwelcome despite the lilting jest harboured behind it.

Kongen wasn't one to entertain these frivolous games - innocent or otherwise.

"Why you-" The snarl cut itself short, curt, exasperated. A sigh of resignation followed. Kongen was quickly realizing that the barbs of his tongue would not gain purchase over her iron shell of determination. Typical woman. The revelation would not ease the glower of his stare and how it lingered on her. From the soft angles of her maidenly face to the way her clothing shifted with the slightest touch of wind. He didn't trust her - fairer sex or not.

"First time anyone referred to me as 'city folk'." He listened to her chuckle with an air of distaste.

"You smell like them." Kongen drew close yet kept himself at a safe distance. "Stand like them." His dark, padded feet lured him in a circle around her. "Dress like them." Despite himself, his lip rose to flash the whites of his teeth. "You may live in the wild, but the wild doesn't live in you, girl. You absolutely stink of domestication!"

A snort tickled his nostrils as he came to sit before her, still maintaining comfortable proximity away from her. "Been out here for years." He started, more calmly than his previous intonations. "Have no use for cities or neighbours."

The heated temper only seemed to climb and Tethys remained oblivious. She wondered the issue between living out here versus working a few miles away where she’d only make enough coin to keep the family business in… well, business. You smell like the. the Kalak drew closer, stilted limbs moved with shoulders hunched maned shoulder as if he were some sort of predator eyeing his next kill. Tethys merely tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before it would fall away again. Stand like them, dress like them. She wondered why he was stating the obvious. You may live in the wild, but the wild doesn’t live in you, girl. You absolutely stink of domestication. The smirk that found her lips was a rueful one as a hand found the side of her hip to rest upon.

He boasted his living arrangements – the longevity of his time spent out here, surrounded by the wilds. He wouldn’t know. Of course not. They were mere strangers in passing and what odds would they have of another potential interaction in the future? Especially in the way his words sneered with disgust? “Ignorance is cruelly bliss, isn’t it?” She regarded him, taking another step forward, another step closer to home. A moment where she wished her mother, sister or brother were here in her stead. “You make such assumptions and yet no nothing of my reasons or whether or not they are of choice or the pursuit of another to follow.” She shrugged at him, near regrettably so with another sharp ache rising in her right shoulder. Grin and bear it.

“Dunno what you’re trying to get across but,” she waved her hands vaguely. “It’s been a long day, and I gotta do it all over again tomorrow so…” the last word trailed as if an innotation was made in hopes the hint would be taken.


!

He attempted to leash the tides of rage, the child of wrath that threatened to ignite in his veins. It was an overwhelming swell of emotion that dared bare its fangs against his temperance that - in these days - grew frail and weak. Betrayal was a harmful sentiment, a lethal tide that would swallow him whole only to leave the festering rot of his lupine bones. Fester, he would. Stew, Kongen simmered in his hate, allowing it to become all-consuming until what had once been a jovial boy stood now a man drowned in a sea of pain.

Pain that was masked in the flare of his fangs; pain that was shared by the rumble of his chest or the glare of his gaze. A stare that remained honed upon her when she spoke. A stare that rippled with the turmoil of his conflicts and newly sworn convictions. To growl. To lash out. To chase her away. Yet, there was a loneliness in him that nearly asked her to stay.

Isolation was a hell of a punishment. Solitude was the only way to stay safe.

Safe from pain. Safe from heartache. Safe from betrayal.

Kongen clamped his jaws, loosed them, and tightened again before relenting his voice into the depths of her mind once more. "There is no justification-"

It was then he noticed the minute expression of pain that accompanied the rise and fall of her shoulder. Pain that he'd been ignorant of because of his own discrimination. He glowered. "Seems more like your body wants a break. Maybe you should listen to it. If you truly live here, you know that the wilderness won't do you any favours injured or not."

There was a shop in town that had been made a few years back when first arriving. She wanted nothing to do with it. Her heart longed to submerge with the sea, the rivers, anything that even for just a moment: allowed her to forget the many yesterdays that past. It was kin who wanted to make the effort to blend in among them. Despite those wary gazes glued upon the faces of foreigners. Still, produce was able to be sold, odd little trinkets crafted entertained curious passing youth and sparked unconventional conversation. There is no justification. The strangers voice echoed again like a buzzing gnat swirling around and around in its incessant noise. “Sure,” Tethys chuffed. “Whatever makes you sleep at night.”

She observed her own calloused palms. Digits that were either paws or claws depending on the moon, or mood even. A form she chose. “Thumbs are kinda cool though.” came the random thought. “A little more useful when it comes to holding things the mouth can’t.” But to each of their own. Tethys had no means to convince him otherwise but simply state an opinion in opposition to his own.

Seems more like your body wants to break. Maybe you should listen to it. If you truly live here, you know that the wilderness won’t do you any favors injured or not. Tethys cast him a sidelong glance with a somber albeit mirthful grin as she chuckled shaking her head. “It’s nothing.” A glimmer of stubbornness kindled. “Besides,” she would add wistfully. “There are far worse things than the dangers of the wilds.” I would know. last thoughts withheld, kept to herself. “Even you should know that.” It didn’t seem like she would be going anywhere any time soon, so with a sigh, whatever belongings she possessed would be tossed gracelessly to the ground before she would plop down to her own sitting form.

“My name is Tethys by the way, what's yours, neighbor?”


!

Those statuette hands were hardy, bronzed, a sweeping contrariety to the broad splay of his human-esque palms tucked away behind a lupine veil. Paws that stilled upon cold, sodden earth and the bold musk of decaying leaves. The forest that had been home for far, far too long. Days, years. It had inevitably become a house of isolation, a den of solitude. Sanctuary from those wicked grins and conniving hearts. Churning cogs and the metallic clamour of hooves on stone did not echo here; only the wind, the trees, the birds and bees. Peace. Serenity. Both of which he found it hard to embrace in her presence.

Dysphoria bathed him in cold water - a chill that bit into his heart and soul. Like frozen needles prickling his skin rising in a series of bumps and valleys. The aftermath of volatile rage.

"Thumbs are kinda cool though." Kongen's attention returned to the demurity of her face with his ears following the direction of those vocal musings. Thoughts that he'd entertain in silence. A silence that felt like cotton shoved down his throat. Uncomfortable. Itchy.

Instead, he settled on the role of observer. Fern tinted eyes watched the shadow of her mouth and its emotional contortion. Sensations that told of levity and mirth - an odd combination. Kongen's brow lowered, furrowed, at this oddity of a woman. There appeared to be either a steeled courage nested in her heart that could not be contested or a fool's heart that was oblivious to the dangers beyond. Either way, he entertained her and listened to the spiel of stubborn excuses.

Wolfish shoulders shrugged their indifference. "Suit yourself."

Then there was a name to a face. Tethys. And, naturally, she wanted to know his in return.

A moment was spared to hesitation. That time was spent regarding her with a narrowed stare and a slight flick of aggravation evident in the quiver of his tails-tip while she got comfortable. Would his name be safe in her company?

"Kongen." He'd relent with the hope that this choice would not lead to regret.

For a time he was at a loss for words. Uncertainty bound his tongue and nerves kept it still in his mouth. There were many times he thought to begin a sentence, only to revert back into himself and the cautionary whispers of his ever weary guard. One question, however, reigned persistent in its nagging and eventually found his voice.

"So, Tethys." He'd watch her, his gaze never leaving the lines of her face lest he miss any indication of malice. "Hunting alone or will your pack," He nearly spat the word. "be along shortly?"

Aches from the one shoulder were brought from the long day of her labors. Hunting and then whatever was hunted was adjusted for the shop – meats and furs to sell to the general public thereafter. Perhaps there was just muscle strain, or, maybe she pulled something? Whatever the case – nothing some ice or even a good swim to fix it – at lease in her mindset. Tethys simply waved her hand of dismissal in regards to his commentary and allowed the silence to fill the void.

Icy gaze would flit to the skies overhead. She watched as an occasional flock of birds would pass by overhead. Attentive ears listening to the sound of natures choir surrounding the duo in the fluctuating quiet. This wasn’t terrible and her feet were certainly thankful for the moments rest. Introduction was finally exchanged then, a name provided to her company while she patiently awaited his in the amicable white noise. The short temper and disgruntled nature provoked a comparison of her late father. The ease to scratch the surface of his skin – theoretically and the entertainment of teasing him, was like teasing her younger brother. “Cool name.”

Her gaze would fall to the dirt beneath her and she’d idly trace her index making not particular shape, lips tugging in somber mirth while such thoughts lingered. Such days no longer existed and how quickly events could change without a moments notice. So, Tethys, her name accentuated by the one who called himself Kongen. Hunting alone or will your pack be along shortly? She wanted to burst with laughter, finding the question almost crude. Instead, she shook her head with a light scoff. “I don’t have a pack.” The admittance came ruefully. Arms hung over her knees while hands clasped together. A lonesome breeze tugged against fabrics and loose strands of hair sweeping against sun-kissed skin. “Haven’t been in one for a long time.” She was fine with it. Or, rather accepted such circumstances with no means of changing it any time soon.



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