Mal was surrounded by the glittering of glass, and the rising forms of buildings. Below his hand, which curled its fingers through the shards, was the summer heated asphalt. In his lungs was the burnt rains of fumes and no doubt more than a few globules of blood. Though this is not where he really was. The dazed dark eyes, they saw her, saw the circle, took notice of the magic… but this is not what he was paying heed to.

No, it was naught these things.

It was the swelling inside a river. It was the crashing roar of waves against a beach, and the crack of thunder over the seas inside of himself. It was the storm to which his mind held to. It was anger. It was instinct. It was that thing inside with saber teeth and bright green as emerald eyes.

You see Fellow Traveler, it was the wolf to which Mal was paying mind to. Its growling hatred. Its howl of indignation at the taunting. Its cold as the first winter frost set of words… 

[b][u]Let me out.[/u][/b]

Inside was not a cage built of iron nor silver. Nor was the man so foolish as to think such a beast could be contained by will alone. It was the waters, yes, that was the key to keeping such a thing that could not die in check. You drown it. As it gasps for air, you crash another curl of salt and liquid over its head… again…and again… and again. You could not kill it. You could not contain it. Though you could restrict it. You could push its head under each and every tidal wave so it could not breathe.

With wet fur and snapping jaws, from time to time it could reach up and drag you under with it, but such creatures were not born for distant shores. Or at least, they were not built for it as men and women were.

So, Mal still fought to push that thing down inside of himself.

It did not take inhuman hearing to listen to the scratching noise of shattered glass being dragged by his palm as it was pressed underneath him. It did not take the inhuman ability of scent to tell that still blood dripped from twisted left arm limb. It did not take inhuman vision to see the Wolf, or so he was called, bringing him to stumble to his full height at last.

[i]These days people have forgotten that words have meaning.
These days people have forgotten that words have power.[/i]

[u]…A wolf is an animal...[/u]

These days people have forgotten that midnight could only be held at bay by the nightlight as long as there was power to keep that tiny light a glow. These days people blinded themselves with delusions far thicker than those phone screens they all but push their noses to.

[u]…And every animal will fight for survival...
[/u]
With teeth. With claws. With anger and rage.
Every animal, even that of a little rabbit soul, could harvest the word doom in its eyes once pressed to corner space.

One eye that had been sealed shut by swelling, at last cracked wide to join its brother on the other side of his features, but it was not his deep oak color. Now that orb inside the skull was bloodshot, and obviously damaged, and yet was as gossamer green as a forest. Two creatures bound, twined, and sewn inside the same form looked out from the road damaged body.

Mal was healing slowly, slower at least then one would expect from his kind. Bits of glass did tumble out of his flesh to tinkle soft music at his feet, and flow of red did stem its tide. Though the arm did not snap back into place yet, and swelling only deflated as if a tire with slow leak.

Maybe it was the circle pushing him to places that were not real.
Maybe it was because the creature inside of himself was fighting now on two fronts.

Though the man knew the cause, others could not be so certain.

Left side of mouth showed edged teeth, while the right side showed the omnivorous nature of humanity as he spoke. It was words that hissed through that deformed mouth, but the southern charm of its patterns still showed through. Humanity was stubborn like that. Even under a curse they fought to keep themselves. Even under a disease of the soul, people tend to seek to retain even the smallest bits of themselves… even if it was their own voice.

“My apologies darling. If I knew there would be a welcoming such as this waiting for me, I would have threaded some flowers into my beard for you.”

[u][b][i]Let me out.[/i][/b][/u]

“But right now, we both have a problem.”

Undamaged arm reached across himself to grab that damaged wrist, and with a sudden sickening yank there was a meaty pop of tendon and muscle as Mal jerked it back into socket. It was still broken, but mending all the same even if slowly.

No, Mal wasn’t so brave as to stop the growl at the sudden punctuation of pain it caused, but head rolled to the side offering a soft pop. Those eyes had closed in the action, but as the chin again settled flat, those eyes of different hues again opened.

Still useful hand lifted up, extended his index finger towards the girl… the very one that had been splashed with blood. The very one the man was ‘sweet’ enough to save, but only if this Witch knew that in the same action the innocent was damned all the same.

Because it wasn’t just Mal’s blood that had touched her. Because it wasn’t just a human’s virus that was spread. It was a curse of the grave. It was a curse of the soul, mind, and body. 

[i]People forget words have meaning and intent.
People forget words have power.[/i]

[b]Curse.[/b]

Mal had forgotten that long ago and had to be reminded of it. The man had turned down the monsters that lived inside of his head. The man had tried to pour another drink until they quieted down. The man had even tried to find a way out of the word forever, and had failed. In fact Mal had pissed the thing inside of him off. Had forced it to change, forced it to evolve, made it find a way out of the corner that he himself had placed it in.

[i]An animal will fight anyway it can to survive.
A virus will spread to propagate.
A monster will take whatever it needs to live.
[/i]
“What the fuck?!” Among the rabble the EMT perhaps could not be heard, but the screaming… the sudden pitched howl of a woman… screaming as if her insides were being clawed out… could no doubt be noticed.

[b][u]“LETMEOUT LETMEOUT LETMEOUT”[/u][/b]

Mal did not move from that circle which had pulled him out of focus and away just as surely as Peter Pan stole children to the second star on the right. No, the man knew well enough not to test that which he didn’t know. The effect of touching such a power was not to be tested. Truth be told, he wouldn’t need to would he? Because she said it herself.

She had forgotten that words have meaning, just as once he had.

[u]Her home.[/u]

Wolf song. Wolf. Not human. It wasn’t meant for just a ‘mere mortal’ as no doubt the Witch thought her kingdom full of. It had infected the poor bystander who started her day with a cup of coffee and thoughts of her date tonight. 

Wolf song. A trembling symphony of vocals that could break the heavens and drive the rains away. 

And Mal? Mal couldn’t drown it, because of this circle. It kept them out of sight. Kept them safe from prying eyes. Kept them away from her kingdom.  Kept him out of phase with reality. 

[u]It took the leash out of his hands from anything outside of that line.[/u]

“The choice is yours O’ Queen of the Glass Kingdom.” 

As if taking his time, the man lifted his once useless hand, slowly curling his fingers as bones at last began to mend themselves.

“You can remove this little puddle I’m in, and she goes back to well… being her… Or in about ten seconds, well… Something is going to come ripping out of her like one of those damned Alien movies. Then [b]your home[/b] is certainly going to be a lot less quiet for some time.”

That wasn’t the full of it was it?

If she killed the woman, well, it would distract her even for a millisecond. Enough time for him to test the circle for escape, or she could lower that circle and the outcome was all the same.

A heavy sigh, body still mending.

“I do apologize for the trouble, but as you say, my kind are not known for our manners.”
[i]Name purposefully not given.[/i]

Those eyes of his, both of them now, were moving towards that crow on her shoulder. They narrowed, and was that a tongue moving along the sharpness of his teeth? Could that winged thing hear it? Could it hear the beast? Could it smell hunger? Yes, it wanted to [b]slaughter[/b] the Witch, but it wanted to [i]devour[/i] the bird.