Perhaps it was long ago, or maybe even yesterday, but think back Fellow Traveler. Think back to a time when you were a child. That swing that you had ridden before is calling. There it glimmers in the sun just waiting. This time though, you find there is more strength in your body than before. You push those legs harder, and pull against the bindings as you’ve never before.

Higher Fellow Traveler, you can go higher and you know it.
So you do.

What became of that moment? That slip, fall, bump, bruise, or skinned knee? Knowledge came from that did it not? The learnt restraint of pain, of failure, of simply biting off more than you can chew.

So, while yes, Vel is certainly at fault, do not blame him too much.
It was his first time on a swing, and he had fallen.

There was no awareness of this at first, but cast free without the wings of a Raven, certainly Vel was falling. Right into a trap, they would most likely say later. Pat themselves on the back, and of course dutiful Memory would give the Ladies praise. Starting to think of that one as a bit of a lap dog. Though regardless, back to the moment at hand, as a feather… even if it was not his best… was handed to the Wolf in Man’s clothing.

There was no hiding it, the Lady had not arrived as of yet. There was almost a Wolf-song in the air. Stories like vivid ribbons of color, steam, coming off him but almost is a word that sides with cation does it not? These urges were repressed. The feather lifted before his eye by the quill, a slow turn of inspection in his gaze.

It didn’t matter the protections that were on it, or even the magic, such words or concerns were still beyond the young mind that was Vel. Though it learns fast does it not? Too fast for comfort I’m afraid as well. No, this insignificant, or at least the most insignificant of the lot of the bird was handed to Vel. Even if just a grain of sand… by putting that part… that feather into his mouth….

…crunching the hardness like a vein at the center…

… the Wolf was devouring the servant. Vel was getting a taste of it. The body looked the winged one right in the eyes as Vel puppetted it forward.
No fear now as the Lady dropped from the heavens, nor any fear expressed at the ease to which she cleaned off the gore. No, fear came to the Wolf in that kiss, because the woman didn’t just stroll into Vel’s mind, like a tidal wave she came crashing in. Call it what you will, but it feels like batteries in your blood discharging. It burns, bites, and tightens muscles instantly. Can’t even use the word surge, as that seems woefully inadequate to such an experience.

It hurt though. That is close to accurate at least. The experience hurt badly. One of the worser details is that the touch wasn’t like what had happened before. No, before he was falling down through a linear line. This? This was being pulled apart by every angle. Drowned and set on fire at the same time. It was oxymoronic but Vel didn’t have that term.

So, just note, even an unnatural creature was forced to think…
This feels wrong.

She found a man locked away within a cage at the bottom of the sea. Saltwater manipulation was one way of putting it sure, another was sheer need. Can’t just normally think a Wolf to death, but that’s where the world unnatural came from. Being as powerful as Babd was, it would be clear. This place had never needed to be guarded, warded, or protected. This was just a place for them… salt water… and why salt water?

It was meaningful yes, but as if offering at least a little resistance, the Wolf was tightening his grasp the best it could. Not wishing her to know the meaning. Didn’t want that memory played. The Goddess would win eventually, but not at this moment. Not in her confusion and unfamiliar battle ground.

Mal, the man in the cage, turned his head towards her. Opened his mouth and bubbles escaped, drifting up like lost screams. His eyes fervently went back to the way he was facing. In the distance shadows below the water. Shadows of something scything through humanity like it was harvest time.

He wanted to save them. He had felt Vel inside of himself. Had tried jumping off a cliff before it was too late. But it was the Wolf who opened his eyes at the bottom of the ravine.

The man in the cage drowned.
A moment later he jerked back to life, and saw her.
Mouth opened to scream, sending bubbles to rise.
His attention moved to the shadows.
The man in the cage drowned. A moment later he jerked back to life, and saw her.Mouth opened to scream, sending bubbles to rise.His attention moved to the shadows.The man in the cage drowned. A moment later he jerked back to life, and saw her.Mouth opened to scream, sending bubbles to rise.His attention moved to the shadows.

There was no sanity in this place, not even for someone who knew how to keep the pieces of himself together like Mal. Logic does not define many things, even if science tricks you into thinking that.

People like to say crazy is trying things expecting different results or something along that nonsense. What crazy really is? What fucked up really is? Take away the concept of reason. Take away the concept of purpose.

Answer every pain, sorrow, and death you cause with the words…
Because I can.

That wasn’t just Vel’s words, or belief system, but it was his very being. His birthright. His crown. And now? Now instantly the Wolf was taught the concept of can’t.

It can’t win against that force, at least not yet.
It can’t use the trick anymore either, because it was caught.

Simple as hearing someone open your front door, and walking through the place like they own it. There was Babd, inside his head, strolling on through and seeing it all. All he wanted was a kiss, but she had gone and mind…

Fine.
No more games.

Like a shell, a chitinous, thick hard form, furr at first burst out of him. Not through his skin, or his clothes, but as if it had always been there. Like some God somewhere picked up a pencil and suddenly drew over the image of Mal, because it had been there already hadn’t it? The Wolf never really went away. It stretched its form against the restraints, growled, teeth slashed in chomps in the air. Twenty four other faces, a wolf each, pushing out against his arms, neck, chest, but full form could not be taken.

No, the Goddess was an expert, and poor, innocent, never done anything wrong in his life Vel gave up after a moment.

Not because he was frustrated, though he was, nor was it to pout like a child, because he felt that too, but rather because there was time. Forever bound? Oh, but I was already forever bound. This way, I have a chance to learn. I have a chance to absorb, take. You are right dear Goddess, endless time for you to make mistakes. Even Deities fall, don’t they?

Oh, and speaking of which.
Eyes, clearer than they’ve ever been before, knew something didn’t they Huggin? Certainly a black winged creature like yourself could see the shine there, like a lost bit of jewelry in the shallow parts of the pool.

“No matter what she tells you.”
The order to get the gun was given.
“She’s the one who used her tongue first. Like raspberries and ash by the way, since you always wondered what she tasted like.”

You’ll be coming out again, she said, and his eyes… green eyes now, no need to hide, stared at her. Those words sounded like trickery, like taunting, for Vel knew no other names to call them by. So, if that was the case, why did he pause so? Why did a monster look now at a woman who would do this to him?

The assailant was not stopped.
So Vel looked up to the one with the gun, the would be black winged assassin, and smiled. A wave of ink and stark white over his face, but it wasn’t a Wolf’s face. No, it was the face of Odin as if painted on. A face Huggin would know well that greeted him as the trigger was pulled, a look of shock and surprise, of betrayal.

Body jerked to the side and landed against the ground like any other corpse. Black ink fluid splashing off of him in full. This clearly wasn’t like before, parts of him that even couldn’t be seen puddled like a tail near his legs. Claws that weren’t visible till the impact of that bullet to his cranium, showed like an outline in some cheap detective novel.

This time he wasn’t just down and out.
This time he was out, no third strike, walk to base nothing.
Back to the bullpen Vel.
Your turn to drown.
Nice try though. Nice try.

It wasn’t a titanic struggle, nor was it required to heal various parts of his body in rapid succession. All and all a brain injury was traumatic, but easy enough to fix. Large portions of bodies required more time, more fuel. This though would take only ten minutes. Ten minutes of Mal packing up his suitcase, moving out, so the Wolf could move right in and unpack.

Oak eyes opened lazily, the man stretched out, arms above his head, legs kicking out like he was on a mattress made for kings. Hand moved up to at first check his throat. Okay, good no wound. Now his inspection drifted up to the center of his forehead as the Wolf had done, checking for a hole there as well. Good, we’re in the clear.

Slowly Mal sat up from the ground, and felt the weight of something different. Like a collar, chains, restraints were buried inside his skin, the man reached out to try to look curiously. It was like a dragonfly's wing. There if you looked at it right, but even the slightest motion seemed to make it vanish.

Strange this.
A brow lifted, and the man who was indeed Mal, looked around the scene to the first person he could find.
“Does anyone want to explain what I missed? Don’t tell me I tried to hump someone’s leg. Last time it was just embarrassing.”

Do you want to know what’s dangerous about teaching things to communicate?
They might just do it.
What is this little thread here? This strand of power?
Let’s pluck it and find out.
Don’t you see Raven? You’re a part of me now, and I you.
You open a little doorway to the gods. Good Old Odin and now Her.
Want to know something I just learned?
I know where that door is now.

It wasn’t to Mal to which the Wolf spoke. Nor was it to the Lady. A voice, so very quiet at the moment. Just a hint of just loud it howled, Vel spoke quiet as a mouse behind Huggin’s eyes.

“What is it with gods thinking they can tie up Wolves? Didn’t end well with your original, won’t end well with her.”

Mal was still looking around confused, and wasn't even looking at Huggin. Didn’t even seem to make any sense that it came from that direction. Though the Wolf was in there, that much you can be certain of. Tucked at the moment inside that box, but it spoke all the same. It spoke directly through that feather that now was part of him.

“Also when’s dinner?” Mal ended with.

When Vel ate the feather, Huggin almost shifted to his human form and struck him down right then and there. It was only the fear of his mistress that he kept his bird form and watched in absolute horror induced silence as the wolf devoured his feather. Huggin had assumed he would use the feather as a way to taunt him. Maybe hang it from a necklace around his neck. He never thought for even a moment that this thing would eat a part of him. He wasn't sure how his magic would interact with the magic of the wolf but he figured he would now find out.

When the two embraced, Huggin watched with a blank expression on his face. He was so very sick of this man. He was so very much done with him. Wolves were never to be trusted and yet, here was his mistress staking claim on one right before his eyes. He wondered, for even a moment, if this would end the same as his previous master. Would the Phantom Queen eventually die to her 'pet' just as Odin had all those centuries ago. He watched as they rose into the air, her magic flaring around them in a chaotic show of strength. The Morrigan was not exactly stronger than Odin. It really wasn't capable to compare one god to another in such a matter. The two were completely different from each other. Especially since The Phantom Queen was essentially three people merged into one.

Huggin looked over to the protective bubble that held both Anand and Macha. He wondered how they would feel to know that Babd was doing such a thing to the wolf that had offered them help, but only an hour before. He was sure it wouldn't go over well when they found out. He imagined Anand, most of all, would not be happy about it. He sighed at his mistress's brashness. Sometimes, she truly did not think things through properly. Hopefully this will not backfire on them in the long run. He shivered at the thought before rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck, as if releasing those dark thoughts with the pop of his stiff neck and loosening of tense muscles.

When Babd finally released Vel, Huggin kept his eyes on the wolf with that same blank look on his face. He only looked away from the wolf for a moment when Babd ordered him to get the gun. Huggin would have been more than happy to ignore the wolf completely until he made a comment about how Babd tasted. He patiently watched for Babd to make her little speech before she squatted right in front of the wolf, the signs of a smile flickering into life on the very edge of his lips.

“You know, wolf. You're trying to bluster but you know as well as me, you're caught. How does it feel to know there's a collar around your neck and not one around mine, hmm? See, I can leave, whenever the fuck I want.” With that last sentence, he put the barrel to the wolf's head and pulled the trigger, pausing for only a moment as Vel's face turned to that of his old master.

This didn't hurt Huggin as much as Vel thought it would. Instead, it just made the man mad. He had centuries to get over the lost of his old master. His image did not stir up pain like it once did but Vel trying to use it to upset Huggin just enraged the raven. He fired the gun twice more, Babd looking over at him as he stood up and threw the gun to the side. Babd looked down at Vel and watched as invisible claws, a tail, and other features dissolved into nothing on the ground. She gave a small nod before she retrieved her sisters.

As Mal woke, inspecting his new bindings, Babd filled Anand in on what was going on, Huggin stood over the wolf and produced his spear and rested he head of it on his shoulder, just a warning to make sure the wolf remained right where he was. When Vel's voice crept into Huggin's mind, the spear tip moved ever so slightly closer to Mal's jugular. Great, now he had the stupid wolf stuck in his head.

“It's cute you think you know anything about gods, pup. You've been alive, what, maybe a hundred years? Come talk to me again when you actually know the full facts of the story instead of just the little cliff notes you got from eating my feather. You don't know anything about the goddesses that just bound you but you'll learn. You've got the rest of eternity to serve her like a nice, little, pup.” He gave a harsh laugh in his head but you wouldn't know it by his blank expression that remained on his face as he watched Mal. Vel wasn't the first one to talk to him in that manner and wouldn't be the first. If it turned into too much of a hassle, he'll tell Babd and he's sure she would bind his voice to his own head.

Anand and Babd came to sit down next to Mal, Anand looking to the spear next to Mal's throat with a frown. “Perhaps that's not necessary. Maybe we can lessen the aggression just a bit?” Huggin shook his head as he shifted his grip on the spear.

“Fraid not, especially since Babd is about to tell him about how she bound them to her.” Anand blinked fiercely for a few blinks before she turned to face Babd sitting on the ground next to her.

“I'm sorry. What did he just say?” Babd didn't look at Anand, knowing full well she was going to be very, very angry at her for binding a living soul to them, let alone multiple in the form of Mal and Vel. “Babd,” Anand leaned forward and locked her gray eyes on Babd, her face forming a sneer, “I need to hear you say you didn't bind the wolf that threatened his own life to help us. I need you to say that for me. Come on, just say it.”

Babd clenched her lips into a tight line on her face before she finally threw her hands up in protest. “He demanded a kiss from me, Anand! What was I supposed to do?”

Anand was in full rage now as she reached over and gave her sister a firm swat on the back of her head, causing Babd's head to fly forward as she let out of a surprised grunt. “Not BIND HIM! What do you mean, what was I supposed to do? Do like every other logical person in the world and thank him! Like a thankful sister and not try and suck his very soul out of his body! Damnit Babd.” Anand stood up and began pacing, her hands in the air and punctuating each of her statements with a fierce point either at Mal or at Babd, almost as if she was trying to call down thunder to smite the two of them with each point.

“You're such an idiot! Surely it hasn't been so long since you handled non deities that you FORGOT that it's NOT okay to just go around binding living souls to you!” Anand came to stand before Babd, the feathered one staring up at her sister with wide eyes. It had been a very long time since she saw Anand so angry. Eventually Anand sat down with a loud huff as she stared at her sister, her arms crossed over her chest.

Babd slowly opened her mouth to speak but shut it quickly at the look that Anand gave her. It was obvious that Anand wasn't looking for an actual excuse. She wanted Babd to understand just how angry she was but Anand was also absolutely exhausted. Eventually she released a low sigh and her arms dropped down. “I'm getting too old for this.” She pinched the bridge of her nose before she turned her eyes back to Mal, magic causing her gray irises to flicker like dancing flames as she examined his form. Sure enough, there on his wrists and around his neck was Babd's abyssal magic in the form of bindings. She groaned as she rubbed the palms of her hands into her eyes, fiercely before dropping her hands once again. “Explain to me why you haven't undone his binds Babd. And you better have a good reason.”

Babd didn't answer her then but turned her black eyes onto Mal, a wicked smile crossing her face. She knew what she had seen in that body of theirs. A man drowning in an ocean and a wolf with multiple faces inside. She crossed her arms before she gave a small nod towards Mal. “It's not me you should be asking. It's Mal. Tell us Mal, why should that wolf of yours be bound?”

Huggin watched the show in front of him silently. When Babd finally turned her attention on Mal and asked him why they should keep the wolf bound, Huggin gave a huff. That wolf most definitely needed to be bounded, no doubt about it. That bastard was chatting it up in Huggin's head all willy-nilly, like it's perfectly acceptable to just intrude in someone's thoughts like that. He looked forward to hearing what Mal had to say about this one.

Moods, ideas, and even concepts can be described in colors. Isn’t it a common thing to say that green is the color of greed? Red is passion, lust, an emotion whelming over someone till all they can do is breath in the perfume? Yes, colors seem to matter in the perceptions of humanity, and so why would we ignore such a topic. Was Mal not a man? The Wolf was a creature sure, still nameless far as the self proclaimed fool knew, but this sort of behavior?

No. This required working with people one could suppose, and that wasn’t something Mal was keen on at all. Lost, perhaps not in the drowning cage to which just a little time before he had emerged from, but lost all the same. It could make a man on edge, even if it was a slow snailed pace mindset.

Mal brushed his hands off first, then would almost casually brush aside that spear that sat before his face. The Bird-boy wannabe was saying something, but not a damn word of it was under….
….did that feather-brained-hollow-boned-piece-of-shit….
…call me a pup?

Stomach grumbled as loudly as the storm cloud that seemed to hang above him. There was no gentle thunder in his voice, nor agitation, but the moisture was in the air, Fellow Traveler. It wasn’t bound to rain, no not that, it was bound to become a god damned bar room brawl. Sure, they had their magics, their little trinkets, but Mal? Mal was a god damned expert at being drunk, and punching people in the face while drunk.

Narrow little window in the resume that never really comes up, but it was there.

Of course Mal seemed at ease, bastard always seemed to be. To some it was confidence, to some it was stupidity, while the truth perhaps was in between. They always forget to add in the fact that it wasn’t only a cliff Mal had jumped off. Like a Raven knew, it grew tiresome this game, and without knowing the others thoughts they both agreed. He was tired of it all. Very tired of it all.

Upward the man stood, hands brushing down across tattered pants, a huff about his shirt though nothing said of it. Look how close Val was to the truth of it. Almost perfect, not bad for his first swing no?

It was when a question was asked of him. That ‘Tell us about your Wolf’, that jaw clenched. The man tried to keep temper in check, and showed little visible sign of agitation. Now that? Get insulted by her as well?

His finger shot up, holding up a single finger, the index. The man wasn’t going to be that crude as to use the middle on in addressing what just bound Vel. Bound them in truth. Not on his soul no, but it still restricted him.

“First of all, it’s not my Wolf.”

Purple. Yes, the color of purple sat in the air like a scent. Deep, ominous, almost confusing black, but not quite. There was enough of that pigment in his mood to almost look dangerous. To slide near the shadows, but never quite commit.

A tightrope act, yes.
The color purple.

“Secondly.”

Like a dutiful little digit it was, middle finger joined index, merely making the number he was on. The left hand was on display, but the right suddenly punched out. It wasn’t a full, swing your hips into it and through punch, it was more of a ‘I’m going to fuck up your day and break your nose’ type of jab. It was aimed true, the crunching of knuckles, his own, stated that his aim was good.

“Fuck you. What do you call yourselves? The Bird Man Group? I mean Sod this mate..”
The accent was as good as any Wolf could mimic from memory.
“..I get thrown in front of a car. Thrown down a damn hole.Mocked. All I did was try to be the good guy for maybe the fifth time in my life. I mean, seriously, which God did I have the displeasure of pissing in their shoes. And you want to know about me?”

Chest rose and a childish huff came out, looking at the Furry-wannabe-bird-man-thing.
“Hey I’m sorry, I…”
His head held low, humility there, then suddenly his fist flew out again in an exact jab.
“Fuck you.”

Like an upset teenager Mal stormed off, half a shoe still on his foot kicking at a rock to send it skittering across the pavement. Oh, he was still grumbling, growling, moving away, but not for long. It was like having a chain wrapped in your hair, or a cat suddenly pulling on your beard. No, the chain wasn’t attached to him, it almost felt like Mal could rip it out. Though it was the pain, the sudden jerk, the man’s feet shot out from below him. Neck jerking back, and landing flat there with the wind knocked out of him.

“Burgers. Yes, with a big ol’ onion. That’ll teach them.”
Hands tucked themselves up under his head, looking up at the sky since he was here anyway.
“Nope. Gona have to buy me dinner, and tell me what your deal is now. Even slit my own throat for these people. Definitely not feeling very appreciated in this whole matter. No appreciation. No burgers. Sure as hell no bacon around here either. Woulda…”

There is a voice.
A howl.
A little whispering scratch of spider legs near your ear.
It’s that sensation of something crawling on you.
That sooner or later it will find its way in.
It wasn’t Mal who was feeling it, and I can not say that the Raven felt it. That would be up to his perception. That would be his test to cross. Though there we Vel with a new playtoy, and all the time in the world. Sooner or later it wasn’t the only thread the Wolf would find. I know it. He knows it, and don’t you know it too?

Can’t you just feel those tiny little hairs moving like a cancer's promise?
Can’t you taste the heated breath at the edge of the other closed doors?
Little bird. Little bird. Let me in.

Though it was not silent in all things, for it spoke, yes indeed. Because it wasn’t a mind that played chess, or grew plans, but because it understood a few words. Petty Vengeance being on that list.

-Ask him-
That voice in the mind that was not Mal’s. A voice of cool certainty of a witness. It was Vel, his growling voice.
-about a woman named …-

It slithered, it slides, behind his eyes just out of view. Though it was there, or perhaps if you wanted the honest truth, a part was now inside the Wolf. It was not Vel’s fault. It was his, but what seemed like a pause… listen close dear servant of Gods. Can’t you hear him all but shuffling papers in his mind? Could this possibly not work both ways?

That smile, that one he was sure to have, locked away or not, hissed the lane through teeth, but it was not the voice of a Wolf.

It was the voice of a single woman. One who had tears in her voice.
-Arabeth. Ask him about me Huginn. Arabeth, and wipe that smile right off his face.-

Crawling, slithering, stalking, stopped. Retreated. But it was there, shining eyes not in the dark, but rather places lit up by thoughts. Inside. He is him. Him is he.

I can leave whenever I want.
Are you sure about that?
Are you sure that’s the truth anymore?

But the answer has changed to Nevermore you cocky bastard, but none of this is said. No, like a miasma, the color purple simply seeped into the corner of the Raven’s attention now. Waiting. Watching.

It would seem like Mal was simply going to lay there, be stubborn, childish, but it only took him a minute or two. A heavy sigh announcing the change of pattern in him.

“Long time ago”
His head tilted towards them.
“Well, long time ago for me, I was raised like many were at the time. What people call orphanages today. If your family didn’t have money, and your pa’h got shipped off to war? As I might add, it was a common thing those days. Getting money became signing up with the local troops. Signing up with them got me into killing. Killing got me noticed.”

He sat up again, using the flats of his hands to push himself back further away from that line that had yanked him. Mal was smart enough to at least consider the possibility his leash was within a radius, and didn’t feel like having his neck yanked again.

“This was back in the day where a bounty or thousands of crowns would be a reward for bringing you practitioners of magic to heel.”

That voice changed again, as if it wasn’t intentional this time. As if Mal was right back in court, vest on, shiny boots a’ shining.

“Wasn’t anything personal, just orders, and let’s be honest here… It was also a fear well earned. Local lands getting robbed, we find the location, it’s some cave that some druids thought of like a church. Half my unit didn’t want to go, but wanna know what’s even scarier than myths told from one stupid man to another? That’s the certainty that the Noble in charge of your fate is a moron, childish, and happy to do away with any commoner.”

Oh? Mirroring here? Was his eyes accusing the group of something… like throwing a mortal in front of a car?

“So we went, but not all of us came back. It wasn’t a bandit fort, it was two men. Just two.”

Holding up that V of a peace sign again, a wink at the Raven if he was available. Last time Mal had done that, he put the period right on the bird-brains fucking nose.

“Two men that turned into nothing like I’ve ever seen. Tore through almost everyone. Some of us … well we came out just a little bit different from the whole ordeal. Wouldn’t you say?”

Just a teaser, a little appetizer for them, because Mal was a generous person. They sure as hell don’t treat their prisoners right. No appreciation or Burgers! Can you believe that shit?

Purple was not a color to describe Vel anymore.
There was no sign of hiding, like almost an old friend the Wolf had pushed himself before beside Huginn, listening to that story that fell from Mal’s lips. Red. Pure fucking red was the color of that creature now.

Rage Red.

Like a roommate who just went a bit crazy, the Raven could almost hear the crashing sound of furniture being torn apart in the apartment next door. Like a renter at a motel, the once servant of Odin could hear the snapping, snarling, of a lunatic.

And could hear the words…
…No…
I’ll do you one better.

Huginn could hear the Wolf song.

There is a forest, a place of dappled greens. Sharp reds of cardinals danced through the limbs of nearby oak trees, and the blues of Jays winged by in sudden splashes. A place like this no longer existed, but even back then, this place was remote, removed, safe from Empires. The people here worshiped the world, the core of it, the reaching of the branches, and the budding of acorns. Nature Fellow Traveler, in all her masks, glories, and fundamentals.

The Wolf sang of it, knew of it. Watched it burn.

Burn it did, great gouts of sweeping fire. Heresy. Witches, Warlocks and Demons! Men on horses in bright colors of houses, and shiny self important armors, rode through the heathens and cut them down. Footsoldiers, long spears, glaves, things meant to keep creatures at bay, stabbed, slashed, laughed.

Only two of the heretics survived.
Brothers.

Once this place was lush and budding with life, only now stood a charcoal forest. They moved to the sacred cave. They asked the spirit to help them. To give them the strength to return the balance. To renew this land, and make peace with it.

Their prayers were not answered.

They offered the sacrifice of goats, chickens, animals they could have used to fill their own bellies.

Their prayers were not answered.

There was no balance left in one of the brothers. There was no calm. No peace. There wasn’t anything left. Just emptiness, detachment, and abandonment of faith. There was just surrender to the hopeless nameless god that does nothing but laugh at humanity.

Though it wasn’t any of these in the end.

It was Vengeance which left patches of frost in the cave where it stepped. It was the promise to be able to hunt them to the ends of the world. To track them. To tear them apart. To hound them like Wolves.

It was that one brother who turned, and in the end turned his brother.
It was the day that Vel was born.

The Curse. Isn’t that how they saw it? A curse of the Wolf? A thing? It had learned it had a name, but call it what you like.

Though Vel knew the truth, and so did now the Raven.

It wasn’t a curse. It was a blessing. It would turn back the tide of Humanity. Look at what they have wrought, o’ brother of the forest. No more green, just filthy cities. Look at how it is, but you know this lesson. Two brothers gave up their souls, because the monsters had already won.

Let me out.

A heavy sigh from Mal, looking at them expectantly.
“You can move cities, but can’t start grills around here. Tsk.”

Ever since this stupid wolf man came into their city, things went downhill and fast. Sure, one wouldn't call beings of magic and power like them parking their asses in the middle of a huge city pleasant, but they were at least content. They had control and they were keeping peace among the immortals and magical races alike. It was just another day on the job when this stupid wolf showed up and now, look at them. Macha was still healing, Anand was acting like the voice of reason and Babd was flip flopping from her warrior to godly self. These last two days were tiring for one and all and Huggin was ready for it all to be over. And yet, he knew the trouble was only just begun. He had this wolf in his head now, talking to him like the two of them knew each other from a previous life. He was so done with this bullshit. He wanted nothing more to do with this. It was almost like dealing with Hela. Her split self acted very similar to this mess and it caused him to release a low sigh. He needed a vacation, a nice long vacation.

Huggin allowed his spear to be pushed to the side as Mal stood. He planted the head of his weapon into the ground and leaned against its shaft as he watched show before him. He watched as the wolf man adjusted his clothes, like it mattered. The clothes were barely in one piece and the only reason they were currently clean was because of Babd removing the blood and grime from him just before the kiss. He just watched Mal with a boredom expressed clear on his face.

When Mal held up the first finger, Huggin had no idea what was to come with the second finger. He was not prepared, to say the least. His eyes widened as the fist crashed into his nose, a sickening crunch sounding upon impact. Huggin's head snapped back from the hit and he stumbled back a step before he snapped his head back to lock rage filled eyes on Mal. His hand reached up and slid along the bridge of his nose, his teeth grit in pain and rage as he stared at the wolf before him. One could hear the sickening crunch as Huggin moved his nose cartilage back into its appropriate place before he used the back of his hand to wipe the blood from him nose. He spat out of glob of blood and spit, his eyes never once leaving Mal again as he curled his hands into tight fists. If this stupid mutt wanted a fight, Huggin would be more than happy to oblige him.

Babd and Anand watched both men, not raising a finger to stop them for even a moment. It was like two mothers seeing toddlers fighting over a toy. As Mel went on about how his last few days had gone, Anand locked her eyes on Babd and waved a hand, proving a point. Babd only rolled her eyes at Anand as Mal continued on with his little rant.

When Mal went to punch Huggin, the bird grabbed a hold of the fist and snapped it to the side, refusing to allow Mal to get another stupid hit off on him again. His other hand waited just to the side as he watched Mal like a hawk watching a mouse skitter across the ground. When Mal was snapped back by the chain that linked him and Babd, Huggin couldn't help but let out a laugh and taunt Vel within his head. “You see that wolf,” his words slid between thoughts like a serpent looking for a place to bask so it can digest its recent meal, “unlike me, you can't leave. You're stuck here, with her.” A small smile crossed his face at the sight of the tug on the chain. It was nice to see.

When the voice came back again, there was something odd about it. Sure, Huggin only had Vel in his head, what twenty minutes, but something about the way he spoke now seemed off. He perked up a moment as he listened intently to Vel before the voice changed and it was a woman in his head. He froze a moment. What did this mean? Huggin narrowed his eyes on Mal. This wolf man was growing more and more confusing as time went on. Did he have other beings in his soul? Was he crafted much like The Phantom Queen? Or were these just memories, somehow finding a voice that spoke to him now.

Arabeth? So the woman's voice belonged to someone named Arabeth? Huggin gave a deep sigh. This really was turning into quite the pain in the ass. He didn't want to be a messenger. Hell, he didn't even want anything to do with this mutt and yet, here he is with these voices in his head that aren't his, they were Mal's or at least belonged to his body. They should stay where they are meant to be and leave his thoughts alone.

As Mal told his story, Huggin just stood there, listening and watching. He could see Vel's form appear just next to him, like an imaginary friend a kid would have when lonely except that Huggin wasn't lonely and would not count the wolf a friend. However, where as the wolf began as a tint of purple, that color turned a bright red, like a mood ring showing his mood for all to see. Well, for Huggin to see at least.

When the song hit him, it took everything Huggin had not to crumple to his knees. His eyes were wide as he suddenly found himself somewhere else. He watched as brothers tried to please the gods, tried to bring balance back but were left unanswered. Poor fools. There was a chance that the imbalance took place because the very gods they prayed to were killed. Druids, possibly Pan. That man has been missing for centuries.

When Vengeance came to call, Huggin almost gasped out to see Vioarr standing now before the men. He was the one who brought forth this wolf? Ironic, since Vioarr was the one to slay Finra, a wolf on its own killing spree. He supposed that if there was anything Vioarr felt could be strong enough to take revenge for the imbalance that had been done, a wolf seemed most suitable.

When the vision came to an end, Huggin took a deep gasp of breath, only then realizing he had been holding his breath through the whole vision. He dropped to one knee and rested his arm across that bent knee. He let his forehead lay fully on his forearm as he took a moment to get his baring. He closed his eyes for a moment, a pounding headache now beginning to develop at his right temple. He grit his teeth as Mal continued on with his useless bickering. A grill? A stupid grill? He looked up from his arm and to the man, his bloodshot eyes fierce as he slowly stood to his feet.

“A grill? That's what you want right now? A fucking grill?” He took a step towards Mal, pointing to his temple. “If one more of your stupid little friends talk into my head, I'm going to lose my fucking mind! First Vel won't leave me alone. That was bad enough but now this woman, Arabeth or whatever? Keep your own fucking problems to yourself and keep yourself in your own fucking head ,Vel!” Huggin yelled as he sent a harsh flick to Mal's forehead. “Stay out of my fucking head! I don't want to know anything about any of you!”

Babd and Anand slowly stood up at the sight of Huggin approaching Mal while screaming. Both sisters watched intently as Huggin went on and on about not being left alone in his own head. Anand looked to Babd and the sisters shared a look. Anand waved her hands and her magic pulsed out like a calming wave of cool water. It wrapped around Huggin and for a moment he struggled against it.

“Don't you dare Anand! I won't be put to sleep now! This man and his stupid wolf need to learn some-” his words stuttered a moment as he strained to stay on his own feet, “fucking boundaries.” Anand's magic swirled around him and coaxed him to sleep. Huggin struggled against it for only a moment more but he was so tired, so very tired. He collapsed into the magic, his eyes rolling back into his head as he did so.

In the meantime, Babd raised a hand and her own magic flared up like a wall between the two men. Things were getting a little too intense at the moment and it was about time they brought it down to a manageable level. One might think the two would have stepped in when Mal was actively attacking Huggin, but both Babd and Anand have been with Huggin for a few centuries now. If they feared a mere mortal would hurt Huggin enough to cause any real damage, they would have stepped it. However, a few punches to the face wasn't going to take that old bird down.

Now though, Anand peered into Huggin's face with concern. His face was pale and when she opened his eyelids to peer into his eyes, she found them bloodshot. She frowned as she continued to look over him like a diligent doctor looking over a sick patient. In the meantime, Babd stepped up to confront Mal.

“Perhaps it's time for us to have a good talk, hmm.” Her black eyes locked on Mal's as if she could peer into them, past his eyes and into the wolf's eyes behind them. There was a flicker of magic and she gave a twist of her wrist, her magic pulsing out from the bindings on his wrist and throat. It flowed along his form until it condensed at his feet like a puddle of black. She moved her hand aggressively to the side and the blob of black swiftly moved to the side of Mal before it began to bubble and boil. She couldn't truly pull him from Mal, not physically without killing him and causing the switch but her magic was linked to him now. She could bring him to bare if she wanted to.

She flicked her wrist towards the sky and the bubbling ooze slowly began to take form. It grew and grew until a form of Vel stood next to Mal, the black puddle still connected at Mal's feet like shadow come to life. Babd frowned fiercely as she crossed her arms, peering at the two before her in frustration. “Now, men, I think we do need to learn a few boundaries, yes?” She turned her eyes on Vel, her frown deepening as she did so. Just to prove a point, she allowed her voice to not only speak out loud but also within their heads.

“I'm sure you did know Vel, because you're young, but you permission to intrude into someone's mind. I can do it to you because I'm your master. Huggin, however, is not your plaything.” She allowed her voice to leave their heads as it rose in volume at her rage. Fire danced behind those black eyes as she kept her eyes locked on the two of them. “We will not be intruding in his mind again. Am I understood?” She was downright enraged at this point. It was like a mother lecturing two children about pulling each other's hair. When she took Vel as her own, she didn't think it would essentially be the same as taking in a child and having to teach them wrong from right.

“However, your concerns were heard Mal,” She turned from the two of them and waved a hand. Her magic flared out once more and a table materialized out of no where, a meager ten feet from them. She gave another wave of her hand and food began to populate the table, everything from burgers to steaks, fries and chips, and everything in between.

Of course, Babd could not just materialize food from the ether. Somewhere, there were a few families that were sitting down to dinner unsure of where their food just disappeared to, hell, one family had even just lost their dinner table. Nonliving, inanimate objects as small as these were child's play for her to relocate here. It was when the item was alive that the magic truly got complex and needed special circles and ingredients. She looked to Anand who was still looking over Huggin diligently. She knew it would take her sister a long time before she could carve a circle of that power once again. She pitied her sister at the thought. It would be a real pain in the ass getting her circle back up again.

There is always much to say when your mind is shaped in the ways, tribulations, and stories to which Mal’s was. There was always much to think, when you thought around the corners, sharp edges, and pitfalls to which held the man fast. Though all of these details, every single one, seemed to simply flutter away upon the colored wings of butterflies as food presented itself. There was no hesitation, nor suffrage of the thought of poison. Not for Mal. It was an animals nature to survive, and the amount of fat stores in his body were limited.

Even more so now that it had been burnt by the Wolf.

One could assume the man felt no pain with how he so casually injured himself at times. One would also be forgiven for thinking the same about Vel, but the body had nerves all the same. It had innards just like any others, and of course this included a stomach. A stomach that felt like an endless void with the unending hunger caused by overuse.

Meat. Protein.
These were the subjects at hand that replaced all thoughts, and already had the man settled up to the table. Fork, or knife? Forget that mess. Already broad fingers, that could impart artistic ability upon page, were implemented in a much more gruesome task. They tore thick chunks of charcoaled flesh from bone, and slipped bites into his mouth. No no, he did not ‘wolf’ it down, but neither did his manners seem to match the bow that he had given before.

For the vision of it, assume a noble trapped at sea, trapped away from any food for days on end. This is how such a man would eat, even if there was an apology in his eyes. In Mal’s case there was no such loss of dignity in his gaze, because he had been through this before. Perhaps not with magic, ravens, or goddesses, but waking up to unimaginable hunger? Yes, Mal had been on this exact spot before.

Besides, if the woman wanted to poison him, that too wouldn’t be the first time.

Only when the coarse edges of that fire was defeated, a slab of meat already having vanished to produce such a minor effect, those oak colored eyes dark in their woodland gaze, turned to the woman who wished to have a chat.

A Fool. The kind with the capital F. The kind which sings to Kings, and makes Queens laugh. Not a gesture, believe it or not that was a different breed despite what romanced novels of the past would tell you. Most royalty kept fools, because there was a legend that it kept their employers humble. The Fool’s would insult the divine providence of their birth. Would mock the kingdom, its knights, and its nobles.

A Fool was there to tell the truth, and avoid having his head removed.
A bright colored, bell wearing, Jesters were just there to fart out songs and provide… poorly in most cases… physical comedy.

It was those eyes, the eyes of a Fool, to which sat now upon one of the three. Not a silly dancing clown in makeup, but one that should be ignored with more powerful beings around. One that just made jokes, pointed as they are, but of no high order. No high order indeed, but there was a truth there. A truth that Mal was trying to think how to gloss over.

“I am at your ….” A small bit of meat plopped into his mouth, out of the corner of his mouth the man finished after a swallow. “...service. Sorry, you really wouldn’t believe what it’s like sometimes. Least it doesn’t go straight to my hips right?”

Humor masks many things in life. A common tactic to even those of this day and age of towering cities of glass like this. This too hid a truth, small as it was, a small fragment of concern in his attention towards the now sleeping Turkey-servant-raven-bird-man-thing. Though that truth was hidden as it was mentioned. Was the worry for the creature? Or was that worry because it had mentioned ‘friends’ whispering in its head? Quite the concern turn of events, even for the man who held a key to the jail cell of a beast.

No mention of it though, at least not verbally, as now… while still digging into his first meal all day, his attention seemed scattered. To the other two ladies, a glistening finger still dipped in fats from the feast, motioned between them.

“From what I’m getting, I’ve just been served dinner by the Fates. I have Yatagarasu himself over there pissed off at me.”

Another large bit of food was placed into his mouth, this time the man actually seemed to chew, and thoughtfully so.

“Can’t be that. Yatagarasu was supposed to have three legs, wasn't he? And while I haven’t seen him without his pants, that one doesn’t quite give off that kind of energy.”

Talking, being a fool, twisting words… buying himself time.

It wasn’t like Mal could just talk to Vel. Not in the way that the Wolf had done so with Hugie-poo-dearest, but they were both in the same boat. They could feel each other rocking it side to side. The boat tonight Fellow Traveler? The boat tonight felt like it was going to capsize, and neither one blamed the other for the action.

Their world had been about each other for so long, and now they were dead center in something that was well beyond grasp. While Vel just wanted to prove himself, tear apart them to feast upon the exposed marrow of the power, Mal wasn’t liking this. While the Wolf had fundamentally changed due to their interactions, now it was the human’s turn to evolve as well. Funny part is, people like Mal? They don’t change easily. They don’t WANT to change. They dug their heels in the ground, shook their head, crossed their arm and announced themselves with ‘NOPE’.

Yes, even a Fool could be a fool.

There was no burp, Mal was never so crude as that, but leaning back from the table now his belly did look a size larger already. For only that moment he let himself show through, let his gaze turn hard as a cliff face, seemingly impossible without the right climbing gear, and none here looked like they knew how to freehand such an expedition. It wasn’t a cruel look, or even a threat, it simply was a mountain, one which people had tried to claim long before he ever met this little band of people.

It was gone though, hidden right back behind that mask of slight smile.

“I mean no offense, no jealousy, or misplaced anger, but yes, let’s talk. Your magic, all of your magic are impressive.”

He gave an offering of a nod towards the ladies who could put a bird to sleep with a wave of their hand. They could pull demons from the chests of men in the form of globs, and that's another thing he’ll touch on in a minute. Give Mal a second, may not be his birthday but the man was… oh what's the term the kids use these days? Yes, Mal was cooking.

“But let’s be honest. Enough with the bullcrap. You’re no more the fates, or gods, then the turkey is his name sake. Thor hammering on his forge is simply thunder, electrical discharges in the air. The crossed god of Christianity was just a magician who pulled off some party tricks. Took humanity a long time, but they’re finally starting to come around to the fact that power and the idea of gods are two very different things.”

This was said matter-o-factly, and funny enough it was said in the tone of scripture, of absolute truth that required a man to have faith in it. It was fundamental to his thoughts, his belief, his slow way of life.

“I don’t know what allows some to use magic, while those like me have to bribe others to use it, but I know no matter the price I’ve never found a single mage who could summon a God. Never been struck down while I stood underneath storms and taunted the face of the storm.”

Shaking his head, almost sounding a bit defeated there.

“Arabeth believed in ‘your kind’. Prayed to nature itself. Trust me, she was almost a druid herself, the humor of that never has left me.”

Now that stone look was back in his eyes as he looked to Babd, eyes narrow, and almost threatening. No longer just something of natural height that could be crossed, but a demon at those gates…daring…tempting Babd to try to open this door.

“And do you know how her god repaid her faith? Her loyalty? Sent a small army of men like me to kill her family. Made her fall in love with an idiot, who could never tell her that he himself was part of that raid. Hell, the Wolf ripped off her head and used it like a puppet to taunt her child. Damn beast has shown me that fun little tidbit of information more than a dozen times over the years.”

Tearing idly one last piece of meal from the feast, Mal looked at it, decided he was no longer hungry, and set it back down.

“So, how about we start with this? What’s your name? Your -real- name instead of this mythological bullcrap that everyones taken a sip of like some poisoned Kool Aid? Because I’m not buying it. I’ll call you Queen. I’ll call you Goddess if that really is what floats your boat, but how about just this once, for all of my undue pain and suffering… I get some real answers? I’m really, really, really, tired of how people with magic talk like fortune cookies, circles, or riddles.”

His hands folded on the table before him, his attention seeking towards the woman who only had one arm now. Then it switched to the sleeping Raven. Each one in turn he looked at studied.

Oh, it made even more sense now, didn’t it Fellow Traveler?
Why he was so calm about things?
A person walking through a Anime convention didn’t believe they were really surrounded by monsters. No matter how good the costumes are, there was always that knowledge that they were just people behind masks. Powerful people perhaps. Ones with tricks, gadgets and many kinds of fabric to dress in, but make believe…was make believe to the man.

He’s seen it with religion.
He’s seen it with poets, actors, and bards.
He’s seen the birth of movies, Elvis, and so many others.

Faith is a word that is reborn every ten years or so, and so was the word ‘God’.
God of Thunder? God of rock and roll.

It’s all the same thing. Just meant someone with a great deal of influence, and Mal? Mal was tired of being influenced.

“Don’t have any Pepsi to go with dinner do you?”
The Fool again played to keep the mood light.
The Foolish smile again to show that he was no threat or villain.

At least… not a villain yet.

As Mal stuffed his face, Anand finished up her work with Huggin. He would be fine. He just got a little too stressed from the commotion in his head. Some people just aren't well equipped to handle more than one presence in their brains. So with a wave of her hand, she brought Huggin down to come rest next to Macha. She let her eyes settle on her sister for a moment. They couldn't restore her arm without the right ingredients. She gave a harsh sigh before she turned to face the scene of a inky formed Vel, Babd, and Mal. She crossed her arms and stepped over.

She stepped up to Babd, who was watching Mal devour the food like he had not touched food in a week. She looked down at her shorter sister with a frown on her face. Perhaps they should have thought about food before. They didn't really eat or drink, or sleep for that matter. Gods didn't need the same thing as humans. They might indulge in those things from time to time but honestly, they didn't need any of that. So while Mal was eating from the table, neither sister stepped up to get some food.

Babd looked up at Anand and just gave a small shrug of her shoulders. She was content to just let the man eat his fill before they addressed anything with him. Babd even had a small smile on her face. He reminded her of the berserker warriors of old that would feast and howl into the night before they were to march off into battle the next day. They would scarf down food like that in a way to enjoy one last meal before they faced a deadly foe. Was Mal prepping to face off against a deadly foe? Was he preparing for battle.

“Where did you get all this food from?” Anand asked and Babd gave a slight shrug of her shoulders.

“Who knows. I just made a summons for cooked food and called it to me. It came from all over the city.” Babd answered with an uncaring voice. Anand's lashes dropped as her eyes narrowed on her sister. Surely after living among mortals for so long, she had to have learned some manners at least.

Anand gave a deep, deep sigh and shook her head. That was a battle for another day. She was tired, too tired to care if a few people had to go and fix themselves more food because the food they were working on suddenly disappeared from in front of them so that it could serve a better purpose of feeding gods and their company.

As Mal finally took a moment to speak to them, Babd's grin widened at the sight. Oh yes, this man would fit perfectly in with the berserker warriors of old. He even put more food into his mouth even after addressing them. A wonderful sight, indeed. Anand on the other hand, sneered at the sight. She found it disgusting. The least he could do was stop eating for even a moment.

As Mal pointed between the two women, saying how he was just served dinner by the fates, Babd's face shifted from a broad smile to a growl of disgust. Did he just compare them to the Fate sisters? Those three? She opened her mouth to yell at the man but Anand lowered a hand on her shoulder to keep her from exploding on the man. Babd looked at Anand, but the motherly third had her gray eyes fixated directly on Mal, her face blank of emotion as she continued to listen. Babd muttered something under her breath about the Fates wishing they could compare to their power but remained silent under Anand's hand.

It seemed like Anand was content to just listen as Mal continued on, keeping her eyes locked intently on his own. Babd had crossed her arms and taken seat at Anand's feet. Perhaps this type of situation wasn't suited for a warrior right now but more a mother. And if anyone was to be called a mother, Anand would surely be that one.

When Mal finally got down to the point of it, to the nitty-gritty, Anand finally moved away from her sister, clasping her hands in front of herself as she stepped forward to address him. There was aggression in her movements, nothing but calm and calculated steps much like a mother who was just asked by her five year old where babies came from. He wanted to know who they were, well he would find out, and she would hold nothing back. He wasn't a five year old who wasn't quite ready to know all the gritty details of where babies came from, he was a wolf, a warrior, a full grown man who was desperately grasping a hold of an old life he thought was solid, having it slowly crumbling out from underneath his feet. This, most certainly needed a mother's touch.

Anand stopped a few feet short of Mal and watched him for a moment, her eyes scanning his face as if trying to find something there. She sighed slowly, dropped her eyes and patted her legs as if prepping herself. “Okay,” she said lightly before she straightened to look at him again.

“First off, you don't need to call us Queen, Goddess, or Mistress,” she held up a finger to keep Babd from chiming in, knowing full well she was going to say something about that last name. He didn't. Phantom Queen was their old title given to them by the Celts all those centuries ago. They did not serve their purpose as a goddess anymore than the postal service served as the main form of communication in today's day and age. “No Babd, they do not need to call us any of those names.” She shot a look back at her sister who bit back a retort but quieted down on her little spot on the ground.

“You want some real answers and I will provide them for you but let me warn you now, you're not going to like it. Also, Thor's hammer wasn't a forging item. He's a warrior. That man is as dumb as a bag of rocks.” As if in response to her comment, there was a deep rumbling of thunder off in the distance. Anand gave a small smile before she continued.

She unclasped her hands and slowly began to walk around them in a broad circle, her steps leaving long lines of magic in the ground. “See, a lot of people now a days don't need gods and don't believe in them. And that's fine. Gods don't need people to worship them to exist.” She paused a moment in her circle as she pondered, wondering where to take this conversation. Her eyes scanned over Mal before she gave a small nod as if she saw something she was looking for before continuing.

“See, when things are born, there is an energy released into the world, just a small little spark. That spark wants to seek out other sparks.” She waved her hand and a little wisps of light bounced around them as if dancing. A few more wisps formed and the others joined them, all condensing together to form a being. “Eventually, you get enough of those little sparks to form something and that something is a god.”

She stepped on the beginning of her circle and the whole area within darkened a shade, like a theater getting ready to put on a show. The being shone bright blue in the center of the circle, muscular, proud, and strong. “See, we gods don't really serve much of a purpose. We are just the conglomeration of small sparks that found each other and formed something stronger. After a time, we learn about ourselves, gain a personality, and determine whether or not we want to be part of something, more. Back when, it made sense to be a god” the blue being in the center did random god things, like sending bolts of lighting, making plants grow, and things in that manner.

“We were stronger, immortal, and humans lived to be what, thirty, forty at best back then. Some of us felt an obligation to the human race for a long time. After all, it was from their sparks that we arose, correct. At least, that's what we thought. Then we started to realize that it wasn't just gods that came from the humans and their emotions. Monsters, demons, ghouls, they came from them too. Humans, without realizing it, were creating the tools of their very destruction.”

The being in the center of the circle was quickly joined by a few different creatures. The first was a manticore. It's stinging tail striking at the man as it released a silent roar. The two engaged in battle, the man taking brutal swipes from the creatures claws while he brutally ripped the tail off the creature. As the two battled, a second monster arose in the form of a ghoul. It flew into the fight, latched itself on the man and began to drain him. The man's visage flickered a moment before he was finally able to snap the manticore's neck. He then reached back to grab at the ghoul that had latched onto him. He struggled and flailed before he was finally able to pull the thing off his back and throw it away from him, falling to his knees in the process. Just behind him, arose another monster, a hydra with multiple heads. It grew to tower over the exhausted man and it's heads ripped into him, pulling his visage apart until only it remained. Anand waved a hand then and all the blue images disappeared.

“Gods die, Mal. We may be immortal, but we're not invincible.” She waved her hand and a visage of multiple different gods that had met their fate shown. Balder, Osiris (before his wife resurrected him, poorly might she add), Pan and a few other lesser known deities. All of them stood like monuments to their greatness, shining blue in the middle of the circle around them. Anand took a moment to rest a hand on one of them, a small sad smile on her face before she waved a hand and the visages disappeared once more.

“Then we learned that places released sparks too.” Her eyes moved to settle on Macha's unconscious form just a few feet away for only a moment before she continued to pace around the circle. “Pan, Cernunnos, Sylvnus, Macha,” these were deities that didn't come from the humans but from the earth itself. Mother Nature, to a sense, personified.” The circle was filled with animals and nymphs running around, dancing around beings with great horns on their heads and who weren't completely human. A less human form of Macha could be seen, resting on a tree stump, her form made up of vines and growing plants instead of the human looking form that she took now.

Anand gave another wave of her hand and the visages dispersed again, Macha's form taking a moment longer than the others. “And then of course, everything dies and that releases a different type of spark.” Up from the ground rose beings of death and decay. Babd in a glowing blue crow form flew from the ground to shift to her human form and land with her spear in her hands, surrounded by other death gods. Anubis, Thanatos, Hades, Kali, and many others, all stood strong and proud around in the circle. The real current Babd watched her blue glowing self, a frown on her face. She sighed as she stood up, waving her hand around at all the images of gods.

“Yeah, yeah. Gods exists. Whatever. We aren't here to teach people about our history Anand. He asked for our names.” Anand allowed an eyebrow to raise as the rest of the gods of death and decay began to dissolve, leaving only the blue image of Babd there. Badb walked up to her glowing doppleganger and turned to look at Mal. “You may not want to believe it Mal, but gods exist and we are gods. It's not make believe, it's not hullabaloo, it's not just some powerful magic person liking the olden names and claiming it for themselves.” She took a menacing step towards Mal, a smile crossing her face as she did so. Her magic flared out from her foot as she took another step towards him, cascading like a flood to encompass the whole circle. Anand narrowed her eyes at the sight.

“Babd, you better not be messing with my magic.” But Babd ignored her as her wings slowly spanned from her back again, her black abyssal magic crashing fiercely into the magical barrier of Anand's circle, like a storm causing a sea to roil. Her form slowly darkened until her smile and eyes were the only things left of her to have color. Then came the cries of the dead, quietly at first but soon, much like her magic that crashed into Anand's circle, it great chaotic and feverish. Black hands began to reach up through the ground as if Babd was opening a very portal to Hell itself. By this point, Anand had, had enough.

“Enough!” Anand called out and the screams were silenced. Her eyes turned to Babd and they were alight with her magic, her very aura a stark contrast to Babd's darkness. “I told you not to mess with my magic.” Her voice rumbled in rage and blue light flared out from under the black ooze where the circumference of her circle lay. She waved her hands and bright glowing hands of blue light reached up and grabs the hands of black, ripping them back into the ground. “Just like there are gods of death and decay,” She reached down to touch the ground, a pulse of blue light passing over the black, inky magic in a wide spreading ripple. The black magic calmed and with each new ripple of the blue light, it dispersed. “There are also gods of life and creation.” Once all the magic from Babd's antics were gone and the feathered third was back to her normal self, Anand turned her eyes on Mal. “Not all gods seek to watch the world burn.”

And with that, she gave her hand a sharp chop and the circle disappeared entirely. She had decided that just then, her little teaching session was done. She turned angry eyes on Babd as her aura returned back to it's normal, calm self and she took a deep breath and sighed. “The point I was trying to make, Mal, is that gods are as real as you and we aren't these perfect beings that sit in the sky waiting to hear if people will pray to us or not. I don't know your history or why you have the wolf within you. I also don't know the history of this Arabeth woman you speak about. It could be perhaps that the god she had been worshiping died or relocated, or perhaps was locked away for whatever reason. There could be a million reasons why these things happened to the two of you. It is hard to say.”

Babd went to say something but Anand's head snapped towards Babd and her eyes glowed fiercely. Babd found herself unable to actually say anything, grasping at her mouth in shock. Anand took a deep breath as if finally happy with the turn of events.

“As for Huggin, he is the Huggin, one of the two Ravens that accompanied Odin before Fenrir devoured him. We're all real, Mal, I'm sorry to say and I'm sorry your experiences with gods so far has been less than ideal.” She sighed as she waves another hand, the table clearing itself of any trash or half eaten food. She then turned to face Babd with a frown. “Leave the boy alone. I know once you claim a soul it's not my place to make you unclaim it, but just know that I'm not happy with you Babd,” her eyes narrowed fiercely at the woman and she spoke the last words quietly, even though they could be heard clearly. “If you cause this man any more trouble for assisting us, then I'll personally make sure you release him and the wolf. Am I understood?”

Babd looked from Anand and towards Mal, then Vel who was still there where she had materialized him with her magic. “Yeah, yeah.” She said with a huff, their conversation being cut short, however, when they hard a low groan from the couple sleeping on the ground. Both turned to see Macha, slowly raising a hand to her forehead with another low groan. Anand quickly rushed over, Babd taking her precious time to walk over as she tucked her hands behind her head.

Anand crouched down next to Macha and felt her forehead and examined her side. For the most part, she seemed to be in good condition, despite the missing arm. She was healed up, at least. They would still need the circle and ingredients to renew her back to her full self but she was healed now at least.

Macha slowly looked around at the area before she slowly sat up. “Well, it seemed I missed a fair bit,” she said as she noticed Huggin laying on the ground next to her, still very much unconscious. She slowly stood to her feet with Anand's help.

“I believe we can catch you up quickly but first,” Anand said as she held her hand out for Macha and another hand out for Babd. “If you would please. I have used up far too much of my magic tonight.” Macha looked down at the hand as Babd finally approached. Babd gave a small shrug and grasped the hand just as Macha grabbed the other. All three forms merged into the messy haired, feather cloak wearing, original form that Mal had first come to know.

The Morrigan released a low sigh as if finally able to relax. She looked down at her right arm that lay limp at her side. She gave a small grunt of annoyance at the sight but it would be fixed in due time. They just needed to finally get some things going. They needed to get out of this accursed city. “I never thought I would be so thankful to be stuck together again but it does feel nice to be at my full power.” She took a deep inhale and exhaled, a pulse of power expelling out of her like a gust of powerful wind.

“Now,” she said as she turned back to Mal, “Perhaps we can get going. I'm quite ready to get out of this spot.” She took a peek around, waving a hand while doing so. Huggin was slowly risen off the floor as black whisps of magic condensed under him and provided a solid black ground for him to lay on. “This is familiar.” she said as she watched Huggin. “Oh shit,” she called out as she turned to the collapsed building behind them. Her office was in ruins for sure and she had completely forgotten about the corpse she had promised to revive hours ago. She sighed before giving a small shake of her head. “No point in it now, I suppose.”

The air was pungent with a sickly sweet smell, and the impact of those pale yellow dust clouds dried to a clog at the back of the throat. Because of these notes, a Wolf, by the truest form of the word as they mean it, was awoken by his own coughing fit. Do not let the human form fool you, it was unequivocally a Werewolf, the blood tests showed that. There in the center of that pale yellow cloud, it was bound at the wrists and ankles. Entrapped by cuffs, that seemed more military grade then police sanctioned, Trial subject (T.S. for short) one-three-two struggled weakly against the bonds. The Subject’s head swayed backwards as if the back of the skull suddenly became heavier than the male used to. Thirties, pale skin, dilation of pupils, and more interesting notes could be taken, but let’s see…

A second form parted through that sickly yellow off coloration to the reality of this place. In the all but mist form, just barely visible like pollen in a breeze, the haze shifted, flowed, and a man stepped out from it. Every motion he made seemed to spin the mist, the haze, the pollen, the shifting sway… swirls, and counter swirls played like sprites among the man’s actions.

A penlight, clicked on, blinded the Wolf-still as a man, and showed directly into the right eye and then the left.

Drugged.
The Wolf was in no position to even remember his own name.
So, let’s call him Matthew shall we?
Though it made it easier to describe the man…

..two hundred and one pounds, six two, strong, brown eyes, brown hair, no physical deformities, numerous tattoos cataloged below…

That part of the information didn’t matter to the one with the penlight.

Meet Doctor Alan McVarrie.
Some might say that the man was very good at what he does.

Blue gloved latex hands were in the Wolf’s vision. One held up an index finger, and moved lift and right across his viewpoint. The other one held that penlight, its shining eye looking into his like a captured star. McVarrie wore that mask, had Matthew seen it before somewhere? He’s sure he had. The memory though was … misty, foggy, swaying, just out of reach in that yellow.

Matthew could hear the man breathing behind that tinted respirator mask, but couldn’t see his eyes. It reminded him of something… huffff…hisss… huff….hisss… That’s what it was! The Wolf tried to laugh when the connection to Darth Vader was made. Like a drunkard at a bar, who thought his own passing of gas was funny, one-three-two swayed to the side to laugh. Yes, twice now it was mentioned. To laugh, tried to laugh, but not laugh. The man couldn’t. Something bit the back of his throat again, and repeated a coughing fit. A symptom that did not bring Doctor McVarrie worry, but knew enough to step back from Matthew politely.
So much damn pollen, or sand in the air or something, Matthew found his mind trying to reason with the situation. Tried to take a deep breath, to pull in even a single lungful of air. It felt like fire coursing down along his nose, the back of his throat, something was wrong.

Do you want to know one of the largest flaws with humanity?
Just ask the Doctor, and he will tell you from behind his mask.

Each cycle of breathing…
Huff….hiss….

It’s that we’ve forgotten the old ways, where we have come from. Take one of the simplest living creatures on this plant, a lowly plant. There are giant corpse flowers that stink to high heaven, but send out their scent to insects to trick for miles. Various species of venus fly traps have sticky tendrils of the inside to lather things to trap, pull anything it can into those closing jaws. Even lowly grass can generate their own protection through their blades like wax, and weather hurricanes tearing above them.

Yes, there’s many advantages they have, but they could not bargain.
They couldn’t ask a favor of ‘Hey, look, I know you're hungry but how about not eating me’?

And yet, from the very dawn of time when roots first spread, these simple things… plants… were masters of chemical warfare.

So what better way of making a better wolf trap, or in this case a biological agent which could take care of the problem with little to no involvement, then to look back. To look at the masters that first were here.

Though, like he said, it’s that humanity has abandoned its old ways, a bit odd to hear that from someone who considers himself a technophile, but that’s what humans were. They were walking and talking contradictions. Only real reason we’re talking about the Doctor is because he was smart, clever, and ohhhh so very good at what he does.

The restraints, military grade or no, couldn’t withhold the sudden burst of muscle. Certainly the chair he was on, just one of those cheap half metal office types, snapped like a twig. It would seem though that

One-three-two as projected was caught between transformation as was intended. Misshapen, mutated, and useless limbs pawing at the air. Feeble cries of lungs that were part human, part wolf, weezed trying to get a single part of any air it could.

The Doctor in the tinted respirator mask watched with interest.

The yellow mist seemed to swirl like laughter, like a crown above the Doctor’s head as if proclaiming him a saint. Though those hallucinations should begin to stop soon, as should the pain numbing effect. This wasn’t the lets test us a new formula for the first time kind of day. No Fellow Traveler, Doctor had been working on this project for some time. Instinctual panic was triggered by the lack of oxygen due to the build up of the pollen refined toxin, and the enzyme inhibitor damped the bodies ability to regenerate, leaving a between stage, or rather leaving T.S. stuck in between stages. They would be no threat to the agents while they were thus hindered, and if agents wanted to come watch the beast die?

Well look at that… right on time…

It started slow. Just one speck of yellow died from the air, and dropped to the floor like a grain of sand. Then another, then another, and one witnessed what it was like to be in an hourglass. The entire tint, every little granular, suddenly died and fell. Yet, they did not puddle, they did not remain. They vanished. Poof.

Alan McVarrie behind his mask watched.
Huff…hiss…

Even when the Biological Agent had dissipated in the air, the man kept it on.
Huff…hiss…

Down upon his haunches, beside the half puddle, half formed of that creature that wasn’t a pretty running in the moonlight kind of werewolf. No, this is more like that old scifi classic the fly. The Wolf was without fur and pink bright new flesh across bald body. Skull neither round or elongated, or even symmetrical.

The Doctor took mental notes, but never once turned that tinted respirator mask away, only that shield of yellow hiding his eyes.
Huff Hiss….

The Doctor
Alan.
Dr. McVarrie.

The man who was very good at what he does.

There are a lot of names for him, but his favorite name for himself was always…
Pox.

The man tapped the bud of the device lodged in his own ear.
“Alexa? Play Experience by Ludivico’s.”

So, let’s turn away for a moment, Fellow Traveler, and allow the Doctor in yellow to collect his samples. You need not watch what parts he takes, or what fluids he jabs a sample tube into. Pox wasn’t your typical hunter, never had been. It wasn’t about killing them, it was about the work. Making something stronger, more potent, and refined. It was art. Art so beautiful it could destroy the unnatural. Human against Gods, what an orchestral ring don’t you think?

And yes, Pox was an equal opportunity love machine.

He had potions for vampires, perfumes for mermaids, darts for nagas, and so many more fun venomous things. Toxins, poisons, chemicals, interactions, biological agents… Oh, if Doc-Mc-Twisted over there knew we were talking about such things? Well, certainly he would have a shiver up his spine of pleasure.

So, let’s speed up time a bit.
Let’s leave him to his work.
Because tomorrow? Well tomorrow….

The ever so busy Doctor got a phone call. He had an hour and half before the boss was sending out a team. Now, normally Pox would ignore such intelligence, samples were easy enough to collect on his own, but the words ‘after Cerberus’ is what caught his attention.

Alan had read that file. Files were important. Information was important. And that? Well that was reported to be a rather unique specimen was it not? Yes, he didn’t have any samples of that one did he? Besides, the saying was ‘If you want something done right, do it yourself.’.

Pox obliged this old truth. He would do it himself.

A prepared man has to wait for nothing.
There were several pre packed bags awaiting Pox, but just wait, we’ll touch on those more.

So, spin the time forward, watch him walk out the door, spin it forward… skip to the next major interaction.

The pilot was doing the walkthrough of his plane, jerking to a stop when he realized there was a man already sitting there in one of the passenger seats. Potential danger is something a pilot like he knew, perhaps even a hunter himself, but this was relieved when Alan introduced himself. Flat tones of the Doctor’s voice almost made it sound like something was off about the man. Definitely human, but with a machine-like quality all the same. It was an uncanny valley to which could put anyone aware of monsters on their razor's edge of alarm.

Though I’ll be damned, the pilot thought, once he hung up the phone to verify everything that Alan had told him. Fine whatever. Get paid either way.

“Want me to store that for you?”
The pilot motioned towards the strange, yellow as a raincoat slick plastic bag that sat almost clutched on the passengers lap.

“No thank you.”
A momentary pause as if considering the horror of being parted from it.
“This is my magical mystery murder bag. I need it nearby.”

For a long moment, several, or many, the pilot looked at the Doctor’s face to watch for a crack of a smile or laugh. Nope, the almost now creepy bastard just was deadpan, looking right back at the pilot as if that statement made any sense whatsoever. Yeah, whatever. Freak.

Alan just turned forward in his seat, ending the conversation, with that deadpan expression forward. People confused him. Poisons? Not so much.

Maybe it was the phone call to make sure this odd duck already on the plane was legitimate. Maybe someone tipped her off. Or maybe it was a complete surprise.

Doctor Alan McVarrie saw the woman the moment she stepped onto the plane. Pox was a toymaker, a damn good one, and he didn’t work for anyone. The Doctor worked for himself, because he gave results. The man delivered what people were promised. Like a network of roots, influence, power, and funds flowed. Though Alan never carried a lick about any of that. It was work. Always the work.

Sound familiar?
How that drive make a person a hunter?
Don't those goals sound the same?

Almost sounds like James does it not?
Funny that.

His head swiveled towards her the moment she came into view on the plane, his eyes weren’t yellow like the visor of that modified respirator he wore at times, but they were the color of gentle skies. Of peace. Of calming skies over waters so deep there’s no waves on the surface. Troubles could break over no shallows in them.

Emotions, stripped from their depths, leaving only the purpose.

“I am going with you.”
He announced as his hands tightened slightly on the handle of that strange bag he held on his lap. Though the next part was almost recited from a script, the Doctor meant no harm. It was malice in that tone, just not understanding what it was to have a loss. Though is that not what was expected of him to say? In the least, in his own limited way, Alan meant it.
“I am sorry for your loss.”

Spin that wheel forward, backwards, sideways or hell have fun with yourself… spin it diagonally. That would be interesting wouldn’t it?

Because we skip across distance, time, and because gods are apparently real…
We also skip across perception.

Because what was Mal supposed to do with all this? Was it real? Yes, again they had power, they were terrifying in many respects. While the Doctor we were just talking about wasn’t able to feel these things, they were there at first for Mal. They just… I suppose one could say that they were burned.

Though yes. Retreat sounded good for now, but nope shouldn’t think of it that way should we Mal? Because… gods don’t do that right.

A finger jerked at the servant bird.
“I guess if all of this is true, it means I punched a millennium old creature, right in the nose.”
A slight half grin.
“Gotta admit, that’s pretty cool, score one for the home team.”

Three shifted to one, his eyes carefully hearing at full power.
Leveling half the damn city wasn’t full power?
Right. Careful now Fool, insult no deity. If what they say is true…

There may be answers to questions he could not find clues to.

Vel whispers through those bonds. Through not Mal but to the one who tied him so. Did she still hear him, or did all three now? Was it venom Vel was trying to mix in the well?

-You can not trust him. A cottonmouth serpent suddenly lunged out from tall grass near a river. Not rattlesnakes, no no. Those give warnings. You can not trust him.-

Though it sounded like an earnest comment did it not?

Mal, and the contained Vel, followed suit.
Part of the crew.
Bound by Gods.
Tied by the Fates that they cursed.

Fun.

When it comes to monster hunting, there is one name that almost everyone knows, Dorian Gray. Yes, that Dorian Gray. Though, her great-great-grandfather had perished a few decades ago, he had made sure that the legacy he began continued on. You see, when a mortal man is left to live out the life of an immortal, they learn a thing or two that most mortals don't get the chance to learn and what he learned disgusted him. Humans, despite what they wanted to believe, were the bottom of the food chain and were quite often food for the bigger, scarier things that go bump in the night. Vampire, werewolves, demons, and ghouls. It was all real. Witches and Fae, too, out there luring children to their demise so they could be eaten up like little snacks. Disgusting creatures, one and all. So, upon learning all these things existed, he took it upon himself to hunt them.

It was easy for Dorian to hunt them. He was immortal. As long as that blasted picture was tucked away and out of sight, it didn't matter how much people burned him, stabbed him, ripped his head off, he just kept coming back. Eventually, he began to learn ways that were more effective to killing the creatures. He kept logs, designed weapons, experimented. Eventually he began to gather a following of like minded people who joined him in hunting and learned the best ways to take out the monsters, and so the family business was begun.

The Gray's Men for Hire. You've got a problem? Well we have a solution! From demon possessions to ghost banishing, we cover it all. Monster harassing your town, call the Grays! We'll handle it before he can blink an eye. Gray's Men for Hire, call today!

It was quite the lucrative business. They had a monopoly on it, for the most part. There were smaller businesses that tried to cover small aspects of what they did but there was no other business that covered things as small as ghost hauntings to things as large as monster slayings and the great news, they didn't ever have to advertise once. Their name was what was whispered in the shadows when trouble came and it was kept in the family. Now it was Lucia, Lucy, Gray's turn, better know as Wings because she was the best damn pilot this family had ever seen.

When Wings got the call from her coordinator to tell her what was taking place in the hanger, well things took a change. Originally, Wings was going to go on this expedition but a few of her higher ups had talked her out of it. She wasn't ready. She knew she was still unstable, that was clear as she rode the elevator down to base level, her back up against the wall and her phone out as she skimmed through the phones of her and James on it. She was lost in her thoughts and took a moment to eventually notice the ding of the elevator to tell her they had arrived on their designated floor. It was only when the doors opened did Wings look up from her phone, her face locked in an expressionless mask while inside rage blazed behind those green eyes.

She straightened from the wall and stepped out of the elevator, tugging her arms behind her back in a parade rest. Hanger D6, she was told. So she took the short time to get to the proper hanger to gather herself and bring the rage down to a manageable level so she wouldn't end up ripping Alan's head off for this mess. She should have know the moment he heard the name Cerberus that he would have jumped at the chance to get his poisonous little hands on the mutt. Cerberus did not just elude James. He eluded all of them, time and time again and the bastard just wouldn't fucking die.

She stepped up the hanger and the pilot noticed her. “He's inside,” he said as he went about doing the checklist needed before take off. She gave him a nod before she stepped into the seating area. Her eyes fell on Alan sitting in the chair with his bag in his lap like the plane was going to take off any second. She took a deep sigh before she stepped up to the seat and leaned against it, her eyes remained locked on Alan. When he said he was going to go with them, she dragged a hand along her face with a groan.

“Charles is coming on this hunt, Alan. You know full well that the two of you-” she stopped when he gave her condolences for her loss, her lips tightening in a thin line. She gave a deep sigh as she ran her hand through her short blond hair. “Fine,” she groaned before started to dial a number on her phone. “I'm going to make some arrangements. No way I'm going to leave you and Charles in the same group alone without me.” She muttered to herself a little, “and maybe some help.”

Someone on the other line answered quickly and before they could say anything, she began talking. “Change of plans, I'll be coming on the hunt and get a hold of Heather. We'll need her as well.” Before the voice on the other side of the line could protest, she hung up and slid her phone in her pocket. She looked down at Alan with a bit of a frown before she crossed her arms and rested her hip on the chair's headrest. “Is that the seat you're going to take?”

Her phone lit up in her pocket and without looking at it, she silenced it. She knew who it was, most likely her mother telling her she needed to skip this hunt. She wasn't wrong. People in Wing's head space tended to rely more on emotions and logic when logic was the thing most needed to succeed, however, she really couldn't just leave those two alone in the small group. They'd probably end up killing each other before they even made it to Idaho.

The problem wasn't so much Alan, more Charles. He was a hotheaded and very expressive person who made it very clear that he didn't like what Alan did. Torture and slaughter, was what he called it. Charles was one of those people who joined to protect the human race but felt that the monsters deserved some kind of peace upon death. He hated what Alan did.

She sat down in the chair next to Alan right by the aisle. She leaned the chair back and kicked her feet up. Normally she wouldn't allow anyone to fly her to her hunts, ever but that gave a picture of just the type of mindset she was currently in. She didn't want the responsibility of flying them to their destination. She wanted that time to get ready mentally. They were going where James was last known to be, probably dead, to hunt the beast he was obsessed with. Her breath caught for a moment as she thought of her lost lover before she pushed through the lunch that was forming in her throat, refusing to allow herself to be seen as anything but prepared for this hunt. She even went as far as to painfully scrape her teeth along her tongue as she kept her eyes closed like she was trying to take a casual nap. She was in boss mode now. Bosses weren't allowed to suffer loss.

So there they remained until the others assigned to the hunt found their way there. Charles showed up next, his large duffle bag hung against his back. He was a large man, obviously someone who spent a lot of time in the gym. His arms were covered in tattoos and he wore military greens. His hair was cut short and he had a nasty scare that went across his forehead and curved along by his left eye. That was given to him before he joined they Grays, the reason he was honorably released from the military. He stepped into the plane, saw Lucy in the chair with her eyes closed and her arms behind her back and Alan in the chair next to her. His eyes narrowed on the man for a moment but he didn't dare make a sound before he took a seat across the aisle from Wings.

Heather came in next, speaking to another man as they approached. “Yeah, Wings called me in last second. Not sure what's going on but ya know, if Wings calls it in, it's serious.” They stepped into the plain and Heather stopped speaking, seeing the scene before them. She saw Charles sitting in his seat, playing on his phone, Lucy across the way from him, and Alan in the seat next to her. “Oh,” she said as she walked up and took a seat just in front of Charles, turning around to look at them like she was back in high school and they were all in the bus ready to go on a field trip. “That explains it then.”

Heather was someone you wouldn't expect to be a hunter. She was small looking with large breasts and wide hips. In this group, she looked like she would be the cheerleader but she was probably one of the more skilled hunters in the group. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail behind her head and she had a small bag on her hip that she now placed in her lap. The man who accompanied her was another relatively large man, though not nearly as large as Charles. He was taller but it was obvious that one of his legs was a prosthetic by the slight hitch he had each time he took a step with his left leg. He dropped down into the seat across the aisle from Heather, releasing a low laugh.

“No wonder boss lady decided to join.” He looked back at Alan. “Yo Pox. What brought you out of that lab of yours? Was it cause of Cerberus?” Heather sent a kick to his chair, causing him to rock slowly before he looked over at her. “What?” He asked before he saw her nodding towards Wings who was still keeping her eyes closed like she was sound asleep. Heather gave him a scolding look and he flinched before he reached back and rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn't thought about James being lost to the cause. Hunters die every day, they just don't usually have such a strong connection like he and Lucy had.

Before things could get anymore tense, the pilot poked his head in and did a head count. “four, five. Looks good. Wings, you flying or am I?” Lucy cracked an eye open and leaned her head forward an inch before looked at the man. She gave a shrug before she closed her eyes again and let her head thump back on the seat headrest.

“I'll leave it up to you.” The pilot nodded once before he climbed in and closed the door.

“Alright, can do.” He locked the door before he headed towards the cockpit. Heather turned her eyes on Lucy with a fierce frown on her face. She really was down bad then huh? Better them get going then.

Before long, the plane was pulling out of the hanger and making its way down the runway. They were underway. Lucy turned her head to look out the window, her green eyes fierce as the ground disappeared out from under them. I'm coming for you beast. Prepare yourself.

---

Before they could get going, The Morrigan stepped up to the ruins of the office building, her eyes scanning the rubble. A small frown crossed her face as she searched and searched. “Damnit, how deep did it fall?” She gave a wave of her hand a large chunk of the rubble was cast to the side like a large hand had pushed it over. Still not finding what she was looking for, she waved her hand again, another large chunk of ruins pushed to the side, this time exposing a the corner of the safe Anand had stored a lot of their items in before the building crumbled. “There,” she cheered before she raised her hand, the safe rising up from the rubble. It had survived the collapse of the building, just as she had expected. It didn't even seem to be very damaged.

She brought the safe around to them and set it on the ground before stepping up and opening the thing. The safe was one of those large ones that stood at six feet and easily four feet wide. Inside were the weapons she couldn't store in the bags but wanted to make sure survived the building collapsing. Magical items of her own creation and some not, potions and, most importantly, ingredients. That's what she wanted most out of this safe. She needed her ingredients so they could restore Macha's arm and gain full function of their arm again.

She stepped up to the safe and peered inside, grabbing items out as they went. She belted a gleaming sword to her hip before she started to grab as many ingredients as she could, packing them away on bags and pouches that one could have sworn weren't there a moment ago.

When Mal made a comment about having punched Huggin in the face, Morrigan gave a small laugh. “He allowed that because he doesn't touch what's mine. He knows better. Speaking of which, take your pick. Take as much as you can carry. No point in wasting it.” She stepped away from the safe to give them room to take a look in. “Both of you are welcome to whatever in inside.” She sorted the items in her bags a moment and before anyone could even blink, the bags and pouches were once more gone.

After they got what they wanted out of the safe, she backed them up from it before giving her fingers a snap. There was a loud popping sound and then the safe burst into white hot flames. “No point in leaving those for others to find. A lot of that could really do some damage.” She turned from the safe and peered around them, pondering on where to go next.

Ever since they found themselves trying to bring Macha back under control, the Morrigan had a running theme in her head. Was she still suited to run the city? They had been thinking about it for awhile now but never so fiercely. Now that they looked at the leveled city, watching as people began to finally come out of hiding to evaluate and rebuild, she wondered if it was time they took their leave. She looked at the two men that now accompanied them and she took a deep breath before running her hand through her messy curls on her head. Well, if she was going to give up control, she was going to have to appoint someone strong enough to take her place and hold it. There was only one person in this city that could do that. She groaned slightly. She knew where they needed to go next but she didn't like it.

“Come on, we need to go see someone.” She began to lead the way away from the crumbled buildings, Huggin floating very closely behind them as they went. “This person we're going to go see, have respect. She's almost as old as us and if she wanted to, she could eat you and I wouldn't be able to do much about it without tearing down another part of the city. I rather not do that. So be on your best behavior.”

Eventually they came to the darker parts of the city, the parts of the city even the police didn't want to enter. The people there watched them go, whispering behind their backs as they went along. They came to a door and gave a good three rasps before a viewing window opened. Golden yellow eyes peered out from the hole and locked on Mal first before they dropped down to see Morrigan standing there. There was commotion before the door and it opened in a rush. “Phantom Queen, welcome,” said a reptilian man, his scales glinting in the little light behind him.

“Thank you, Gunter.” Morrigan said as she raised a hand up to his cheek and giving him a sweet pat. She led the way pass him into the building“If she home? Or do we have to wait for her to come home?”

The man watched Mal intently as he responded to Morrigan. “She is just now finishing up a bath. I will go fetch her. Should only be a moment.” Gunter scurried pass her and disappeared into the shadows. The room they were in was a wide room with very little light. The floor was dirt except for where there were intricate carpets placed haphazardly around. There was a short table in the middle of the rugs and a silken cloth draped over the table. Just beyond the table was a small love seat and the Morrigan made her way there, taking a seat. She patted the spot next to her as she waited for Gunter to return with his mistress. Morrigan set Huggin up so he was sitting on the ground right before her, his head leaning back and in her lap. He would be waking up soon and she was sure he would be thankful to not be floating in the air next to the couch.

Taniwha were not typically seen in the states, however, much like gods, ancient beasts tend to relocate from time to time and as they grew older, the more intelligent they grew. This particular Taniwha found her way into Morrigan's territory about a decade ago, resulting in a very fierce battle of sea and sky between her and the Morrigan. However, they came to an agreement after they had fought for two days with no sign of the battle coming to a closing any time soon. She could remain in her city, if she kept to herself and didn't cause trouble. A fast friendship developed between the two not long after and Morrigan was sure to come visit from time to time, though this may be the last time she came for a casual visit.

There came a soft rumbling from down the hall that only grew louder as a large Naga came slithering into the room. It scales were a beautiful red color along her back and her belly scoots were a black. She had long gills that ran along the side of her neck and her hands were webbed but other than those signs, one would find it hard to recognize that she was a water serpent.

Her long body curled in on itself as she came to settle on the other side of the room from the Morrigan and her group. Her eyes were fierce as kept them locked on the Morrigan. “Quite the battle that happened yesterday. I am pleased to know you are all well.” Her eyes moved to Mal for a moment then to Huggin was was slowly waking up, his grogginess coming out in a quiet shuffle of annoyance.

“Speaking of that,” Morrigan lead, “I want to give you the city.”