04-05-2022, 08:08 PM
Kongen followed the trail of Tethys' gaze and the skies to which it strayed. Shadows hovered above them, silhouettes belonging to avian heralds whose shrill songs filled this forest with life. He usually found peace in the coos and caws because their presence meant that it was safe. Fear only where the birds do flee. A wise memory recalled. Danger guides their little wings. Their journey drew them eastbound far beyond the mountain peaks where rivers met the ocean's edge. He'd been there only once to feel the sand between his toes and the cold waves crash against his shins. Is that where this stranger had been destined?
His icy stare returned to her when the lilt of her voice offered answers. Answers that he found soothing to the tangle of nerves that thrummed throughout his being. She was alone - alone like him.
A tragedy, in all consideration. Their kind harboured an almost archaic longing to reside in like company. They longed to be with other wolves. To lead, to follow. To hunt and to thrive. It'd been so long since Kongen scratched that primal itch that would - in turn - fester beneath his claws. Rankling lacerations filled with treason, tears, and blood.
It was becoming a dangerous place, these reminders, and so he'd turn from them with a grave grumble. "Good."
He watched the way the whisper of a breeze played with her human clothes, her human hair, and it reminded him of the anger. Anger at himself. Anger at them. A rage that threatened to consume the world if he'd let it. But he didn't. Despite how his lip twitched, how his body prickled at the sight of this human pretender. They were in the woods now; did she really need to keep up the appearance? What sense did it make to dress up like them, here, where no one but Kongen and the trees would see?
"Why?" He'd start with a disgruntled huff. "Why keep that face when you're out here? You're safer beneath the fur - you should know that."
His icy stare returned to her when the lilt of her voice offered answers. Answers that he found soothing to the tangle of nerves that thrummed throughout his being. She was alone - alone like him.
A tragedy, in all consideration. Their kind harboured an almost archaic longing to reside in like company. They longed to be with other wolves. To lead, to follow. To hunt and to thrive. It'd been so long since Kongen scratched that primal itch that would - in turn - fester beneath his claws. Rankling lacerations filled with treason, tears, and blood.
It was becoming a dangerous place, these reminders, and so he'd turn from them with a grave grumble. "Good."
He watched the way the whisper of a breeze played with her human clothes, her human hair, and it reminded him of the anger. Anger at himself. Anger at them. A rage that threatened to consume the world if he'd let it. But he didn't. Despite how his lip twitched, how his body prickled at the sight of this human pretender. They were in the woods now; did she really need to keep up the appearance? What sense did it make to dress up like them, here, where no one but Kongen and the trees would see?
"Why?" He'd start with a disgruntled huff. "Why keep that face when you're out here? You're safer beneath the fur - you should know that."