[IC] Third Time's The Charm ~ PopeAlessandros x Jiskastya

[Jiskastya]

The Pack was hungry.

It had been days since they had gone out to hunt, and although staying did not take much effort, hunger always returned with time. They were restless, and growing more and more frustrated. The bitch snapped at one of the pups that came over to nuzzle her, begging for food, and the pup quickly retreated, long tail tucked in close, feelers pressed in so tight to his back that they vanished among the fur. He retreated to a tall stand of grass, slipping in among the long stems and laying down low. And for a time the Pack was still again.

But the bitch was growing tired of waiting, tired of the gnawing sensation in her belly. She lusted for blood, for the feel of it between her teeth and in her throat. She hauled herself to her feet, swaying unsteadily for a moment, before moving over to the King. She snapped at him, trying to get him to move, but he barely even noticed her presence. The Pack needed him to lead the hunt, to pick which creature they would swarm and rip to pieces. Until he moved they had nowhere to go. The Pack had grown dependent upon him.

But hunger had no meaning right now to the King. He was an astonishing example of his species, easily three times larger than the bitch, and the pack could recall no time when he had not led them. He had led his pack well over the uncounted years, expanding their numbers and territory to a point where it became impossible to sustain any more. Uncannily intelligent, he picked the best prey and swiftly guided the pack to bring it down. The Pack thrived under his rule. At least until now.

He had found himself growing bored with the ceaseless blood lust of the Pack, a concept that was entirely foreign to him. Life had always been so easy, so straightforward. Eat when hungry, sleep when not. There needed to be nothing more. Yet he found himself craving something, something that he knew the Pack could not bring. And so he waited, keeping the Pack in place as hunger grew in their bellies and frustration in their throats. The Pack would not tolerate his stillness much longer. But he did not care.

The bitch moved away, kicking her feet in frustration. Long claws extended and tore at the ground. She was hungry, and would remain still no longer. Her snaps, not enough to rouse her King, were enough to drive the the members of the pack to their feet. They moved restlessly, herded together by her actions, until suddenly she let out a barking cry, and lunged in towards her King. Her teeth closed scant millimeters away from his skin, and the rest of the pack followed in behind her, snapping, even clawing. If he would not lead them on a hunt, they would eventually choose to assuage their hunger and frustration on his own flesh.

He was herded to his feet like he herded the Pack's prey, and the bitch let out a victorious howl when he finally stood. The rest of the Pack joined in, waiting for his own howl to signal the beginnings of their hunt. But their howls petered away in silence, and he turned away from them. He would not join them in their hunt, and he would tolerate their insistence no longer. The feelers that lay flat against his own head suddenly lifted, flying around wildly and driving the Pack back from him. A few split open, revealing the hair-thin sensors inside, which too began to move around. And then he turned, running away from the pack, long legs eating the ground in a speed they could never mimic, in the one direction that the pack could never follow him.

Before this point the Pack had always gone to hunt in the direction of the mountains. They knew there was prey in the other direction, they could smell it on the wind, but they could not go in that direction. Something rejected their blood lust, their insatiable desire to kill, and would not allow them to pass. But the blood lust was gone from him. He had no desire to kill, only a very un-Pack-like desire to know. This time there was nothing that stopped him from moving deeper into the forest, where the shadows quickly swallowed up his dark form.

The Pack howled behind him, confused and desperate as they tried with all their might to follow their King. It did not matter. The Pack would not stay still for long without him to hold them together. They would fracture, creating new Packs and finding new Princes, dividing up the territory over which he had once lorded. The ruin of the thing he had spent his whole life building did not seem to enter his mind. He was done with it. He no longer needed the Pack, so there was no reason to maintain it. For once, something was simple again.

[Jiskastya]

~

[PopeAlessandros]

At last air finds his lungs as he sucks in a simple breath as if it were the most precious thing in the world. The breath is followed by many gasps as the young man tries desperately to get enough air. High above he can hear the cruel laughter of the ones responsible for his current state of being. In the morning gloom he can hardly see their bright faces above, however he doesn’t need to see them to know who they are. They are youth, a few older, most around the same age, who have for the past week found new and exciting ways to wake up their favorite punching bag. Not that they actually hit him often, that they left to the adults, however the pranks they pull on occasion are far worse than any blow he's suffered at the heavy hand of the local blacksmith or horse master.

Take today for example. Somehow they had managed to sneak up to the loft where he slept, even though he'd been prepared today, and with little effort, roll him all the way to the edge. He managed to wake up before they actually shoved him over the edge, which is likely what saved his life. The fifteen foot fall could have easily broke his neck, but in a sleeping haze he'd hooked the ledge just enough so that he landed on his back, not his neck. A very lucky aversion of a break.

As he feels his limb functions returning his instincts kick in. Despite the chores he knows he needs to get started on his first need it to get away. He has to get away from them before they decide to have a little more “fun”. He can hear their hands and feet on the wrings of the ladder that leads to his resting place and with a jolt he forces himself to his feet. He is running, fast as he can, out towards the edge of town. Despite how much they love to torment him, he knows he's always safe out there. Out among the trees, out where the monsters roam.

The cries of his pursuers ring in his ears and he stumbles slightly as a rock, no doubt flung by one of them, grazes the side of his leg leaving a split in the skin. He ignores the pain, the wound will heal, he just needs to get away. Racing through the last farm before the forest, he manages to get out of sight of the pursuing mob, however he does not stop fleeing. The small chicken and crookoo scatter as he races through a mob of them, and it isn't until he is surrounded on all sides buy the dark trunks of tress that he begins to slow. Looking back he can see them jeering, whipping stones blindly into the forest. Wanting a little more distance he continues into the wood, following a trail he's walked many times before.

As a young child the elder would often bring him out into the woods. Unlike the other children she told him not to fear the forest. She would show him places she herself enjoyed, and encouraged him to find his own. She was kind, in her own way, and he did thank her for what she'd done for him. 'She's gone now. . .Now I enter this wood alone. Now I am the only one who feels comfortable under it's boughs. . .' His dull eyes look this way and that, spotting the tracks and trails left by the forest beasts. The weak little ones who can travel this close to the village. There are animals too of course, here and there, but those are not as pronounced in this particular stretch of wood.

Moving slowly now, favoring his wounded leg, he comes to a clearing and relaxes a little. Looking around he sees no sign of anything having been around recently and with a soft sigh he climbs on to a large flat stone set in the middle of the clearing strewn with needles and leaf litter. The cool surface feels good against his skin and as he settle upon it to wait and check his wound he simply lets the feeling of it pass before going to work on his leg. 'Damn. Well, here goes another couple inches of my tunic' He's not a complete fool. He knows he needs to cover the open wound, however he can not help but curse his luck for a moment before doing so.

The sound or ripping fabric is swallowed by the trees as he carefully makes a bandage for his wound. He always tries to get tunics that are far to big for him for this very reason. However this particular one is rather old and doesn't have much in the way of length any more. As he takes off the last bit for the bandage he realizes that the tunic looks about the right size for him now. If it wasn't for the ragged bottom, he may even look almost presentable. 'Not that I even need to be. Everyone knows I'm an orphan living in a hayloft. No matter what I look like, it doesn't change who I am' As soon as the injury is tended to, the orphan boy Kir-Kon flops on to his back and stares at the cloudy sky above. His dark hair flares out around his head, unbound, and for a moment he considers tying it back. He dismisses the idea quickly though. No one to impress and no work to be done out here in the woods. . .

[Jiskastya]

As the forest sped by under the power of his long legs, he kept his nose carefully pointed in the direction he could never, ever have gone before. He was driven by no need he had ever felt before. It wasn’t bloodlust, it wasn’t hunger, it wasn’t the want to fuck. It was... curiosity. An impossibly foreign emotion. He wanted to know what was in this direction not out of any desire to find easier prey or a new den site, but simply to know.

For the first time in his life, the King wished that he wasn’t the best of his species. He wished he was a pup again, a time that was so long ago that he had almost forgotten what it meant. He wished that he once more had someone to teach him. These feelings were so foreign, so disturbing, that he wished he could shove them aside and return to the simplicity of the Pack. He could still turn around, lead the Pack on another hunt. They would never remember that he had left.

But the curiosity, the wonder, the knowledge of what truly was would not leave him so easily. It would not be forgotten now that it had become in his brain. He did not turn around. He kept himself heading inwards, towards the thing at the epicenter of the protection. He fully acknowledged that there might be nothing there, but he also knew the world in the direction he was allowed to go. There was nothing there that could answer the uncertainties of his own mind.

A strange feeling tore through his gut, bringing him briefly to a halt. It was a sensation he had long abandoned, when he had once faced his prey without the confidence that he could beat it, and survive even the worst it could dish out. But there was no reason for the feeling in his gut right now, no reason for the fur on his back to start standing on end. None, except the thought that maybe there was nothing in the world that could explain the strangeness of his own head to him.

He shook the thought away aggressively, and the dappled sunlight briefly flared against his orange undercoat. Then he was running again, lithe form dodging through the trees at a speed almost impossible to track. He did not slow again until the trees began to thin around him, and the pressure of the invisible ward against even his bloodlust free mind was growing intolerable, simply because of the size and strength of his body. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he panted, not from exhaustion but simply in an attempt to lessen the strain he felt, that was trying so hard to permit him from going forward.

But he was the King, unlike any in the pack, maybe unlike any in the world. No ward was going to stop him. Rather than trying to force his way through the ward he relaxed, shaking his head and stretching to relieve some of the tension in his motion-hard muscles. He moved perpendicular to the ward, with his nose pointed slightly in. And, slowly, he slipped further and further into the ward.

He came to a halt at the edge of the trees, focused on the thing he somehow knew made up the center of the ward. It was a space, carefully cleared of any vegetation except in regulated patches, with large structures that towered up from the ground, stone-like in size and build, but made of tree pieces.

Inside this village, two legged creatures walked. They paused, making noises at each other, and he stared at them, trying to understand their actions, even as he felt his heart rate speed up. These protected creatures were somehow different from anything that he had ever found before. They were weak, harmless looking, but the way they moved, the way they interacted with each other, the way they observed the world, spoke of the new thing inside the King. They, like him, and unlike his former Pack, were... intelligent.

It did not occur to him until he stepped beyond the edge of the forest that he may not be welcome at this place. He took a few paces forwards, feelers pressed tightly against his own back and almost vanishing into his dark fur, when a loud, foreign noise sounded across the clearing. Every single creature in the wood-rock place stopped, all of them looking about wildly. Some of the smaller ones were picked up by the larger ones, and hurried to the interior of the structures. He continued forward slowly, tail low but friendly, ears held forward attentively.

It was pure reflex that saved him from the thing that flew from the hands of one of the creatures, embedding its long, sharp shaft inches from where one of his feet had been moments before. The creatures were yowling, and more were drawing in on him. Some held more of the thing that had been thrown at him, others held sharp, wicked looking rocks that would surely cut through even his own strong fur to mar the flesh beneath.

The King whined, a foreign sound from his mighty chest, and dropped himself a little bit closer to the ground. He had not intended to challenge them for their territory, and as little as he wanted to submit to these strange, small, furless creatures, he would do it to understand their world.

The creatures circled him, but drew no closer, until another person drew close, a whiner pressing close to the furless one’s side. When the whiner saw him it dropped even lower to the ground than it already was, and let out its standard, keening cry. The furless one ignored its warning, barking a sharp noise at it.

The King remained still, having no desire to frighten these strange creatures, and the furless one with the whiner drew closer and closer. It pulled another object into its paws, the thing long and thin like a vine. Around him, the other creatures did likewise.

Suddenly, the vine was being thrown at him, and it looped around his neck, pulling tight. He howled ferociously, tugging against it, but other of the vines were joining the first. The King felt the bloodlust of his race suddenly pounding through every vein in his body, and the pressure of the ward grew to almost unbearable levels. But the things around his neck were hauling him towards the creatures, and the King would never allow himself to be captured. He let out a heart-wrenching howl, and none of the creatures were unaffected. Some of them felt their knees begin to shake, while others felt hands go limp, and the ropes drop to the ground. The King rose to his full height, and he pulled on the pressures inside of him. His feelers whipped out, whirling wildly and striking at the creature’s hands, brought to a stop only inches before they would have struck by the pressure of the ward.

The pale orange chips in his body began to glow a fiery orange, and the wind began to pick up. Gouts of fire appeared within the wind that swirled around him, and more of the creatures panicked, racing away. However, others still held firm to the ropes, dragging him, trying to unbalance him. One of the furless ones barked a command, and the whiner leaped at him. The ward did not stop him from sending one of his feelers to intercept the whiner mid-jump, and send the creature flying limply away.

New ropes were flying around his neck and body, tring to tie him to the ground, and the pressure of the ward kept him from hurling the swirling mass of fire and air at any of the furless creatures. But the King would not allow himself to be imprisoned. He was the greatest of his species, and he would not submit to such humiliation. He reared against the ropes, and the chips flared even brighter, reaching an almost blinding light. Every muscle in his body began to bulge.

It was like the sensation of controlling the air or fire, but instead of being outside of him, it was resting in his chest. It ran through his body like a wave, and the pressure of the ropes grew tighter and tighter around his neck. He planted suddenly massive paws onto the earth, and pulled back with all his strength. Suddenly, the creatures found themselves on the reverse end of the dragging, and many of them let go of the ropes, yowling and holding injured paws carefully.

Suddenly free, the King turned, disappearing into the forest once more. He ran hard, relieving both the pressure of the ward, and the pressure within his own body, and slowly the glow in his chips faded. However, the changes that had overcome his body did not fade as the wind and flame had at the end of his talent. He had already been huge for his species, but now he knew he would tower over even the second largest in his Pack nearly three times again.

Panting heavily and fearfully, more confused than he had ever been in his life, the King slowed when the noise of the village was gone. He lay down carefully, curling nose to tail and tried to make himself as small as possible

[PopeAlessandros]

The stillness around the boy seems to deepen and for a moment he holds his breath. Normally, if he sits still in the woods, it goes back to it's normal order. The birds chirp, the animals shuffle about, and the monsters creep along. However as he sits up slowly, listening close, it feels almost as if the air itself has stilled. He lets out a breath, looking around curiously, unsure of what to make of all this. 'Well, this is new. . . .Probably a bad thing. Maybe the ward is down and something's heading in to attack the village? Or maybe just me. . . Maybe my coming out here so often has thrown of the balance. . .That would be bad. . .'

His head turns this way and that, trying to find the source of the stillness. Instead he hears faint sounds coming from the direction of the village. 'Raised voices. . .Did I leave the gate open again let the birds loose? No, I hopped the fencing this time. Maybe the kids went back and let out the horses to get me in trouble. . .' He listens closely, the sounds growing louder. He does not move however. He's learned that approaching raised voices as one of the best ways to earn a smack, even when you've done nothing wrong. He can feel his skin pricking, the sounds of the voices different from what he's heard before. The closest he can remember is when a man attacked his wife for cheating. His angry shouts and her cries for mercy. . .

His eyes widen as suddenly a howl rings out, followed by an other, more pained sounding one. A faint pulse in his chest that fades quickly bring him to his feet. Standing on the stone he faces the direction of the sad sound, unable to bring himself to move. He is far to interested in keeping himself safe to slake his curiosity. 'It sounded. . . .So sad. . . I've never heard a cry like that. . .Well, a kicked dog kinda sounds like that, but this was more. . .' He can not find the words to describe how his hears had interpreted the sound, however he knows the animal, whatever it is, is frightened and scared. He understands that feeling. He understands it very well.

The cries continue on for some time, more odd noises he can not identify, and his skin dances as the air begins to move again. However instead of the normal shifting of light air currents, a breeze comes from nowhere and moves through the trees. Kir-Kon braces against it, never moving his gaze from the spot he hears the sounds coming from. It's not that strong, and soon passes, however the curious side if him grows more and more intense at every new thing. And then, just like that, the cries fade and Kir-Kon is left alone with only his thoughts as company once more. 'Well, that was different. . .I wonder if something happened with the ward. I didn't hear any screaming, so I don't think anyone died or anything. . .'

Slowly he steps down off the rock and begins walking towards the source of the sounds. His steps are quiet, but swift, his body crouched low so he can remain hidden amongst the foliage as he approaches the village. 'I should find out if it's my fault before going back in. If it is my fault I should try and get as many chores done first so at least I won't earn an extra beating from the horse master' He first listens carefully for any mention of his name before moving in a little closer and settling behind a large bush.

“Did you see that thing? It like, grew, right in front of us!”

“That was a monster! How did it get so far in!? That thing was obviously not your garden variety beast!”

“I don't know. . .Luckily no one got hurt. . .Woulda been one hell of a trophy though. . . .”

“Think a tamer could have had a chance with it? I think it'd have made a great guard beast.”

“Poor Saffron. Did you see how it threw her? She's okay, but man, I wish I had something like that around. . .”

His eyes remain locked on the ground while he listens, one ear turned towards the village while the other listens to the sounds of the forest. 'Well, this still may be my fault, if my little forays into the woods had any part in this, but it sounds like nothing too bad happened. .. And I don't hear them talking about me, so maybe I can avoid getting blamed, at least for a while. . .' The sounds of the forest return, albeit only a little bit, but now that he's sure nothing is going to be blamed on his right away, or attack him for that matter, he turns his attention on to the ground where the men are milling about. His eyes follow the obvious drag marks, following them towards where they end, continuing on to where they would have vanished into the woods.

For a moment he considers that he really should get to work. After all, he is already late. However as he stares at all the men milling around he realizes they are all going to be busy for a while. He has a few minutes to at least figure out which way the thing was heading to explore things further later. Sinking back into the forest a ways Kir-Kon makes his way around the perimeter of the village, reaching the right spot without being seen. The elder's teachings come in handy as he finds large paw prints with lines running along side and through them. He has no idea what to make of the lines in the dirt just yet, however the prints are easy to follow.

He moves slowly, just in case the beast hasn't gone far and is upset. He knows that as long as he is within the ward, which for now he's assuming is still in place since the villagers are still alive, he knows it can't really hurt him, but it could cause him trouble none the less. 'Knock me down without malicious intent and I smash my head on a rock for example' His looks carefully, trying to gauge the beast’s size and realizing that it's quite large indeed. 'This stride is gigantic, not to mention paw size. . .Long body, like a dog. . .' Despite how useless he know he is, some skills come in handy at times like this. 'Hours upon hours of being alone gives one time to learn such pointless skills. After all, none of them would ever trust me as a hunter. They think I'd attack them, so tracking is useless. . .'

He slows. 'They're getting closer together. . .It slowed down here. . .' His own pace drops to a crawl as he tries to locate his quarry. His eyes fall on a rope sticking out from under a bush and he raises an eyebrow. 'Well, that explains the lines I suppose' Carefully he moves around the bush until he can see what he thinks is what he is looking for. He pauses with a bit of it barely in sight, not wanting to approach it before knowing what he's up against, and if the beast is upset. Seeing a multitude of ropes criss crossing he realizes just how hard the villagers tried to bring the thing down. “Well, looks like you've got some rope troubles there.” His voice is soft, the normal tone he uses when talking to animals. Well, talking to himself really.

He doesn't actually think they can understand the words, but he's observed that certain tones get certain responses. He remains still, waiting, murmuring mostly to himself. “From the looks of things you didn't actually take a bite out of anyone, no obvious blood at least. I did notice some rope burned hands. .. Well, some raw hands, now I see that must have been rope burn. I've never seen anything like you before, not that I can really see you from way over here, but then again, I've not seen much of this world, like the rest who live in the town. We sometimes get travelers, but they leave quickly. They're tough, and most people think they are odd, but I find their stories interesting. . .” He rambles on, hoping to get a better look at the beast but not really counting on it.

[Jiskastya]

He lay perfectly still until all he could hear was the slowing sound of his own heartbeat, and the rush of air in and out of his lungs. His feelers hung loose around his body, draping comfortably along his back and legs, and a couple had split open to reveal the tendrils, which measured the vibrations of the world around him and allowed him to perceive the world in heightened detail.Slowly the rage, the anger, the confusion, the frustration, everything faded from him, leaving him briefly as nothing but the former King of the Pack. But it was only in these half-moments, on the verge between waking and sleeping, where he could recapture the moments as they had been before everything changed around him, before these new things had forced their way into his brain and changed his life.

His peaceful rest was interrupted suddenly by the feel of footsteps vibrating through the ground and the smell of another one of those creatures drawing nearer. He was awake in an instant, his head lifting from his paws, more of his feelers breaking open into feathered tendrils to allow him to sense farther and more accurately. There was a single creature, bending low to the ground and slowly tracking its way forward, drawing closer and closer to him. Confusing and conflicting thoughts raced through his mind, telling him to run, telling him to try and overpower the ward and teach these miserable, impudent creatures a lesson about the real world.

Ultimately, he did neither. The king was tired, frustrated, and weary. There was nothing that a single creature could do to him, not after he had just escaped from a whole pack's worth of them, and he was not going to dignify the creature with any sort of response. See what it thought about that. He rolled slightly, stretching out a leg, before returning to a curled position, trying to ignore the creature that was drawing closer. The things around his neck strained against his muscle, and he scratched at it with a foot, trying to see if they would suddenly fall off. No such luck.

When the creature finally worked its way into the clearing where the King had settled, he didn't bother lifting his head. The only part of his body that twitched was one of his feelers, which sent a cascade of tendrils in the creature's direction. It was smaller than almost every one of the creatures that had tied to bring him to the ground before, although larger than the pups that had been hidden away inside the wooden rocks when he had first entered and the hideous cry had been voiced. Whatever the thing was in relation to the others of the village, it seemed wary of approaching him.

Only moments after appearing, the creature began to make noise. It was dull and monotonous compared to the sonorous cries of the Pack, but there was no overt hostility, either. Whatever this creature was, it certainly was vocal. On and on it went, like one of the silly birds that twittered away in the trees, just without the variation in the song. All the same, its voice was not bad. It was like all the simple, reassuring sounds in the world, the repetitious whimper of pups that cried for attention, the river flowing past on its way downhill, as steady and constant as the rhythmic sounds of his own body. It spoke of existence, nothing more and nothing less. Perhaps that was the ultimate purpose of the noise, not meant to convey any message but a reminder to the King that the creature was there. He could not decide whether this was annoying or not, but eventually he regulated the category into the same noises that the whimperer of the Pack would make, as something to be ignored.

[PopeAlessandros]

As he rambles on Kir-Kon notices that he's not really getting any kind of response out of the beast and he begins to wonder if one of the ropes had been pulled too tight or snagged on something and killed the creature. The only sign of life a black something or other that seems to be coming from it's body and moving ever so slightly. “What is it you have there anyways? Are those ropes causing you trouble? Maybe I should take a look.” With that he takes a step forward, careful to keep his voice soft and his movements slow. He remains upright so it doesn't look like he's stalking the beast. As he gets a little closer he is able to better discern it's size and shape.

'It looks like a dog almost, but so much bigger. It may even be bigger than me. It could have done a lot more damage if the ward hadn't been in place. I know frightened dog normally attack and I can only imagine being tied up like that. Does. . .It not have any eyes?” It can barely see the beast's head, but what of it he can see doesn't show any signs of bearing eyeballs. The tendril thing now makes more sense. [i]'I bet he's like a moth or a bat or something' He muses, pausing several paces away in case it starts seeing his closeness as a threat. “We should really get those off you, they don't look very comfortable.”

He of course does not expect a response but it feels better to at least say something that makes a little bit of sense rather than just odd words and phrases that come to mind. Moving one step to the side he notices he can see the monster fairly well and with a faint sigh he crouches down, taking a seat to wait a few minutes. 'I have work to get to, and I only have a little extra time from it's foray into the village to get to it. I would count it a blessing after the morning I had, but I may very well be part of the problem as to why it could get in in the first place, so I have that possible connection to look forward to. If the new elder realizes I went into the woods right before this thing went in, she may make the connection, and my life may become more of a hell than it is already' He keeps up his low murmur of words as he waits.

[Jiskastya]

The creature's sounds quickly become background noise to the King, unimportant so long as they didn't change. His thoughts were, as they had always been for the past immeasurable time, focused on himself. He didn't know what he had expected when he came to the center of the ward. Answers, perhaps. Something that would explain the changes that were taking place within him, and would help him to understand this new and unusual way of looking at life. But all he had found in that strange place was the same thing that was waiting for him everywhere, violence and bloodlust. Except this time he couldn't even fight back and defend himself properly.

There was also the matter of that strange feeling, the one that had raced through his body and given him the size and strength he needed to fight off the creatures that were trying to trap him. Magic never lasted longer than the spell, and the fact that none of his orange chips were glowing meant that he was, most certainly, no longer using the energy inside of himself. Yet his size had not changed.

It wasn't that he wasn't able to control this new body, or that he was uncomfortable with its size. The King knew his body, just like he always knew it, even though he was larger than he had ever been before. He knew that he would be able to run just as fast as he ever did, if not faster because of his longer legs and stronger muscles. No, the King wanted to change back because this was another new thing that he didn't understand. He was so tired of new things and he didn't want or need another one.

When the creature stirred again, he nearly flinched. He had almost forgotten the thing was there, or, at least, he had forgotten that it would do anything more than sit and make noise. But the creature didn't get any closer. Rather, it began to walk in a circle around him, always maintaining an equal distance from it. Around halfway through the second loop, he forgot about the creature again, returning to his internal musing.

At some point, he was going to have to decide what to do with this new thing, if he ever wanted to return to his former size again. He knew in the way all creatures understood of what they were capable that it had been his magic that had caused this change. It was probably this same magic that had allowed him to grow so much larger than everyone else in the Pack, to become the King of his species. It might even be this magic that had changed his thinking

He was briefly disturbed again when he realized that the creature was drawing closer, but it took a step back and once more resumed its circling.

If he could harness this power the way he harnessed the wind, the fire, and the water, he might be able to return things to normal. He could get rid of this impossibly large body, this strange thing that seemed to exist within his own mind and distort his thoughts in directions they had never known before. There were so few chances to go back in life. There was no going back when he took over another pack, no going back when the prey struck out with an accurate hoof and clubbed one of his pack mates so hard on the head that they would never move again. This might be the only opportunity in the world for him to truly go back to the way things were.

The creature was in too close again. The King twitched one large paw, and it instantly took a step back, resuming its ceaseless, senseless circling.

But, even if he went back, he would never be able to get rid of the memories of this bittersweet curiosity. It had pushed him to do something that no member of his pack had ever been able to do, it had driven him right to the center of the ward. It had, in a way, granted him the ability to understand more fully that it was possible for him to go back. Could he really give up these new things? They seemed to make life so fresh, so unimaginably new. They made it so that his existence was more than just an endless repetition of the same base thoughts.

He felt a small, light pressure on his back, quickly removed. Unconsciously he rolled slightly, finding the thing that had touched him again. It was only at that moment he realized that it was the creature's paw.

[PopeAlessandros]

When the beast goes back to ignoring him completely Kir-Kon wonders if he should push his luck. After all, there is not guarantee that the ward is still working properly, or that tying anything more with the beast would be worth the risk. However after several long minutes he decides to try out an old technique the elder had taught him, just to see if he could pull it off on something other than a buck or any other animal. Standing slowly he keeps talking, moving around and around the critter. “You know, those really do look too tight. Maybe you should stay away from the village from now on. I know it's different and maybe even a little interesting at time,s but most humans don't want you kind around. Unless they can tame you. I bet that's what they were trying to do. In fact, I am sure of it now that I think about it.”

As he walks on he pauses, stepping back every so often to give the beast a bit more space, his mind on the task even as his lips continue to flap. 'I wonder if I'm annoying it. I wouldn't be surprised. . .What do I even plan on doing if I can touch it? Who knows, maybe it'll try and eat me, or turn out to just want to flee, or a good scratch. Who knows. . .' Each circles brings him in a little bit closer, his eyes locked on the beast for any sign of discomfort. He walks as softly as he can and having spent a lot of time in the woods, and being barefoot, it's relatively quite in the near deathly silent woods. “So, did you scare away all the other things in the area? That would make sense, I mean, you8 are different. I have seen squirrels attack an albino squirrel and kill it. Only time I've ever seen it. I can only assume that's because it was different. Seems like tolerance is just not the way of the world. There are exceptions, but hey, if everyone accepted everyone else, the world would be boring, no?”

Even as he says this flashes of his own life pass before his eyes. All the times he'd come home covered in blood, or had to hide a wound just so he could finish his work and get the money he needed to survive. He recalls his own exception, her old wrinkled face understanding and so expressionative. She'd tried often to get him to smile, and only rarely succeeded. Never around others. Smiling around others got him in trouble, people thinking he was laughing at them, which of course is unacceptable. They can laugh at one another, but not him. He's too far down on the totem poll. He does not mourn his life, seeing as he still has it, but at the same time ha can not help but wonder every now and then about the why.

“I had someone to answer these questions, but I never asked. I accept my life the way it is, and there is no real reason to wonder. I may have a crappy life, but it's a live. The elder always said that living your life is what's most important. . .Sometimes I wondered if it meant something different than what I thought, but then when I think of that, I get all depressed that she's not around to ask. Ah well, that is the way of things. People leave, whether to move on to the next town, the next adventure, or the next life. Everyone moves on eventually. . .” He's finally close enough now, and with a slow gently movement he reaches out to touch the beast.

He retracts his hand slowly, not wanting to move too suddenly. A moment later it rolls and he reaches out once more to touch the beast, his movements slow and calm, his voice still low and quiet. The feel of it's fur between his fingers is a pleasant one, and he's careful not to touch the ropes last it think he's trying to use them like the men from the village. He also keeps his eyes down, knowing that dogs feel challenged if you stare. However at this nearness he realizes there are no eyes to stare back into. He retracts his hand again and continues talking, praying the beast won't attack. “You have some nice fur, I like the feel. It's filthy of course, but that's to be expected. Seems like you got dragged around a bit. . . .”

As his mouth continues to run he moves on to the next step in his crazy escapade. Slowly reaching out again he brushes over a rope, withdraws his hand, then repeats the motion. The beast does not seem too happy about the touching but when it does not out right try and attack him he shifts ever so slightly and begins loosening the ropes, letting them fall limp after the knots are undone. “I would pull them off you know but I don't think something sliding around under you body would feel all that comforting, and I'd rather not make you mad right now.”

When he shifts around to the back legs where a couple ropes look a little tangled the beast snaps at him, making him freeze. “It's okay guy, if you are a guy. You make me think of one, but that could be wrong. I just need to get these off you here.” He moves again after a minute and manages to get the ropes off his limbs. The last knot is near the base of the beast's skull, but with slow deft movements he manages to get the knot out and lean back carefully without losing a hand. As quietly as possible he sits down in the grass, watching and wondering what the best will do, his dull eyes looking almost bored despite his interest, and his voice still going.

[Jiskastya]

The feel of the creature’s paws in his fur was distracting, but not bad. It was like the feel of the pups, first reaching out to him when they finally emerged from the den with their bitch, carefully moving their feelers through his fur, learning the shape of him so that they would always know to whom they owed their allegiance. This creature’s “feelers” were not as supple, but their motion and intent were the same. It was almost endearing, and when the thing began to lightly work at the vines cutting at his throat and body he let it happen.

There was a sensation of disconnect between the creatures in this village and the one that was now sitting next to him. His instinct told him that there was no difference between this one and the ones that had hurt him and had tried to entrap him, but that new thing that had driven him into that clearing in the first place told him that, just as there were differences within the Pack, there were differences within these creatures. The King could feel this creature’s intent, and it was nothing like that which had tried to ensnare him. Should it change the King would be able to react in a split second. The creature was within range of his feelers, and just a couple of them would be enough to entangle the creature and smother the life out of it. He wouldn’t even need to bare his fangs to kill this fragile thing.

Whatever the creature was doing, it seemed to be working. The bindings slowly fell away, and he began to breathe easier again. When all of the vines were gone from his neck the creature began to move along his body.

The King snapped at it the first time it tugged at the rope on his legs, startling the creature much more than he had intended to. The snap had been a polite reprimand, a reminder that, while the creature may be unbinding him, the King was still the one in control. It was the kind of snap one of his own pups would have gotten if its nearby playfighting had gotten a little too intense for comfort, not intended to harm, simply to remind.

After the snap the King settled back once more, apparently turning its attention away from the creature. He was not one to admit it, even to the one helping him, but the King, in that moment, needed the creature’s aid. There was no doubt he could have gotten the things off eventually, but it would have required hours of uncomfortable gnawing and clawing, and would doubtless have shed more than a bit of his own blood. This chirping creature had saved him much trouble.

When the last rope fell away the King remained still for a moment, relishing in the slight tingling sensation the absence of the ropes created. But the prickles quickly faded, and as soon as they were gone the King decided he was no longer content to stay in place. He stood up in a quick fluid motion, towering over the creature/pup, and shook, causing his fur to flare out in a bright halo. Then he stretched, pulling the tension out of his body.

It didn’t matter if the encounter at the village had failed. The King had done more than enough moping over the past several days. There may be a new thing in his mind that was changing the way he viewed the world, but it did not change the King’s basic nature. He was a creature of action. When something didn’t work, it was time to find a different way. There was no sense in attacking a creature that had already survived a fight, and no sense in exploring a place that had already been explored. if the King wanted answers to his question, he was going to have to find them somewhere other than the strange clearing.

Perhaps this creature/pup would be able to aid him. These creatures seemed to be a part of the thing that was different about him. their actions in the clearing had not been made of clear instinct, but had seemed to rather follow something that he still did not quite understand. If it was in all of them, it was likely to be in the creature/pup as well. Perhaps he could use that.

The feather-like sensors waved gently through the air, taking in a better impression of it. He took a step forward, one giant paw almost as large as the creature/pup’s head. It had gotten its chance to touch him, now he wanted his chance to touch it. The feeler flew out quickly, wrapping around the its chest and holding it in place. The feeler squeezed just enough to let the creature/pup know that it could not escape, but not enough to hurt it. The sensors followed along after that, running along its body with ghost-like touches.

[PopeAlessandros]

Only a few moment pass before the creature moves. Kir-Kon remains still, watching the beast stand. His curiosity about the thing mounts as it shakes, revealing a lot more of those tendril things that he initially judged present. He fiends the sight quite beautiful, the flare of fur, the faint glows here and there, all of it combining to make one majestic beast. Normally something so large, and obviously dangerous, standing so close would at least put the youth on edge, but as he watches it stretch like he's not even around Kir-Kon realizes that like most of those in his life, he isn't even interesting enough to pay much heed to beyond his usefulness.

“So, you're free now. You look better without the ropes. Glad I could help. I suppose you'll want to be going now that those are out of the way. I would apologize for what they did, but hey, I can't blame them. You are huge and something none of them have ever seen before. I would suggest not going back any time soon. . .” His voice fades ever so slightly as it moves in closer, facing him. His heart beat picks up ever so slightly, though he still doesn't move from his spot. “I'm not all that interesting, really. If you wanna go I won't stop you. . .” he murmurs, biting his lip as suddenly one of those tendrils wraps around him without warning.

“Okay, I'll stay put I guess.” He mutters, looking up at the large furbeast. Since it doesn't look quite ready to eat him Kir-Kon I able to fight his urge to push it off and flee, knowing that quite often that is what prompts a creature to attack, but he can not stop the low level of fear coursing through his veins. “I wonder how fast you could kill me. Would the ward even be able to stop you? I mean, you're obviously strong, but you plowed your way right into the village, so the ward must not actually affect you all that much. You don't look. . .” He pauses as a bunch more tendrils begin running over his body and he fights the urge to laugh as several run over ticklish spots.

The tickling sensation brings back several bad memories of the youth in the house he grew up in. They would say he was being too gloomy, then pin him down and tickle him until he passed out from lack of air as if somehow that would cheer him up. Each little brush against one of those spots makes him twitch ever so slightly as he resists the urge to push them away. “I suppose it's only fair you get your chance to check me out. I mean, I did essentially just run my fingers all over you. I don't see any eyes on you, so does that mean this is how you see? That would be interesting. It's almost like an insect or something. I know they use feelers and stuff to check out the world.”

He tilts his head curiously as a few of the feathery bits run across his face and once they've moved on he rubs away the slight itch that had set up under his nose when one had swiped over his top lip. Before dropping his hand back down however he carefully lays it on the tendril holding him in place, brushing over the leathery surface gently, trying to get a good idea of how it feels before letting his arm fall once more. “It warm, and tough, like some of the tanned skins we get at the forge to make into saddles and the like. Since it's such a small town our smith doubles as a leather worker. But. . . .This feels different. It feels alive. . .” He sounds a little confused at his own words, because of course it's alive, but then, why did he say it?

Letting out a faint sigh he looks around, a cool breeze finding it's way through. “Seems like the animals are still scared of you.” He closes his mouth to avoid getting a fringe in his moth before going on. “I wonder what it is about you that has them so quiet. I mean after all, they more or less ignore people, the birds at the very least, but here they are all terrified of you. Maybe it's your magic? Do you even have magic? I heard monsters sometimes do. . .” On impulse he slowly brings his hand up, palm to the sky, and holds it out towards the beasts face. He knows dogs hate it when you just reach out over their heads, many times seeing it as an attack, so instead he pauses with his hand beneath the monsters chin, bringing it up slowly, intent on petting it under the chin if it will let him.

[Jiskastya]

The King’s feelers continued to gently explore the creature/pup, but they came to linger gently on a cut on the creature/pup’s leg, a massive bruise on his back, and many other small wounds that covered its... his, this was definitely a male creature/pup, body. What was his pack thinking, allowing him to sustain such damage while under their care. He would always let his pups explore, and that naturally meant that there was a risk of injury, but until they learned the risks of the world he would keep them away from the most dangerous and harmful of situations. Surely this pack was not so inexperienced that they would let this pup get harmed. Or, even worse, harm him themselves.

It was at that moment, as those thoughts were running through the King’s head, that the creature reached out and scratched gently under his chin, fingers tugging gently in an imitation of the pups that would chew on his jaw, submissively begging for food and attention. And, like that, creature became pup, and the King’s instinctive protective instinct kicked in. he promptly released the pup, although his feelers lingered gently, brushing against jaw and shoulder like the caress of a parent. If his pack was doing such a bad job of protecting him, then the King would simply have to step in. Obviously the pack leader of that strange clearing was as inept as the Princes of his world, and the King would step in here, just as he had there. He still wanted to come to understand the new things within his own mind, but he had lived with them for a long time already. Until he knew what exactly was happening to this pup, the possibility that these injuries were normal briefly entered into his mind, maybe it was some sort of strength ritual, he would stick around. Once that was complete, he would resume his search for answers.

Hopefully it wasn't going to take too long. It had been many days since the Pack had gone hunting, and while the hunger that had gnawed at the rest of the members had yet to fully touch him, it would find him soon enough. There was very little in this quiet forest that was really suitable for eating, and while he would catch and feast on birds and small rodents if it came to that, he wished for the hot blood of real prey. His tongue flicked out, briefly licking his lips, before his jaw snapped shut again. His feelers moved away from the pup, reading the air lazily. He could still feel the faintest vibrations coming from that strange clearing. He would not be going near there again.

[PopeAlessandros]

When there is no move to stop him and no reprimand for daring to try and touch the beast, Kir-Kon finishes his motion, running his fingertips through the fur on the large creature's jaw, scratching it gently but firmly. The tendril around his chest suddenly unwinds and for a moment he is worried he's done something wrong. However the other, smaller tendrils, continue moving over him, a little more firmly now, but still far softer than any touches he's use to. “So, you've figured out I'm not dangerous huh? Don't need to hold me down any more? That's good, I'm not sure if I was breathing right with that thing on me.” A faint sigh escapes him at the, what can only be described as caresses, run over his his face and shoulders, feeling nice and slightly soothing.

He gives the beast a few more pats and scratches before watching it turn away, the tendrils going up and moving in different directions. “Looking around now, huh? Does that mean you're leaving?” Kir-Kon is a bit put out at this idea but as there is nothing he can do about it he simply sighs and stands up slowly. “Well, if I don't see you again, farewell beastie. Stay away from human villages, they're not safe for your kind.” He reaches out and one last time runs his fingers through that smooth fur before heading towards the village. He pauses, turning to look at the large monster with his head tilted to the side.

“I'll be back out here in a few hours. I gotta get my morning chores done. If you're still here I'll share my lunch. I really wanna learn more about you, but I'm sure you have better things to do. Don't wait up for me, kay?” And with that he turns and leaves, speeding up once he's out of sight. 'He prolly won't be there when I get back out here. It's not like he has a reason to stay. He's a wild beast, and now that he's free of those ropes he's not hindered any more. . .' Shrugging to himself he carefully slips into town away from prying eyes and manages to slip into the barn unnoticed. After a quick look around the place he realizes the horse master hasn't even been in yet and with a faint sigh of relief he lays into his morning chores.

His back aches something fierce making his movements slower than usual and it doesn't help that when the horse master finally comes in he slaps Kir-Kon hard right over the bruise to propel him towards his next task. The man calls him a wimp as he cries out from the shock of pain that runs through his system but the youth does not reply. The beasts in the barn butt and nuzzle him as he changes out their hay, scooping up droppings and giving rub downs to those who need it. As the sounds and smells from outside turn for morning routine to hungry rumbling the boy finishes his last task just in time for his master to throw him his lunch.

As usual it's already cold and a jumbled mess from being tossed but Kir-Kon takes it without complaint and rushes outside to the fresh air with it. Clutching the small gray sack against his chest he makes his way quickly into the treeline, the sounds of young voices driving him to move quickly least the town youth decide he doesn't deserve to eat today. Still positive the beast isn't going to be anywhere to be found but having nothing better to do Kir-Kon races along to the same spot along the boarder before once more turning to follow the tracks in. Slowing down in case it’s closer to town this time he moves along the trail.

“It's got no reason to stick around after the fright this morning, but hey, maybe it's curious. I mean, most beast would have run right off, but it stuck around to check me out. That means there a chance, right?” He begins talking to the air, muttering to himself about all of his random thoughts on the matter. He's normally silent in town, not wanting to draw attention to himself, but here in the woods, the only ones around to hear him don't mind listening. Well, he has gotten complaints from some squirrels before, but they are unreasonable sometimes.

[Jiskastya]

He nearly grabbed the pup again when he began to walk away, like one of his own straying brood that had decided to walk too far away from the den, but he kept himself in place with a single, simple reminder. This was not his pup, even if he might have adopted him for the moment. Keeping him from his pack would most likely do more harm than good. He could imagine what would happen if one of his own pups suddenly went missing, and the King had reason to believe that some other Pack or Prince was responsible for the theft. Of course, this pup's pack had already allowed their member to stray far from the nesting site, which was another reason that the King did not think much of this pack.

All the same, he had no right to grab this straying pup, and keep him in close where he would be safe. Therefore, he let the pup walk away, until even the tremors of his footsteps were too small to be distinctly detected. For a moment longer the King remained still, before he shook himself and began to walk away as well. If this was going to be his new territory for a while, he was going to have to familiarize himself with the area. There was no need to mark out his territory; he would not be staying here long enough for it to matter, and, even if he was, there was nothing else in the area that could rightly challenge him for the land if he wanted to name it as his own. That did not mean that he should be unfamiliar with the area, though.

There was not much in the area. The forest was thinner than he was used to, and there were many stumps that looked like the remains of a fallen tree that had been chewed up by some wood-eating animal, but the trunk did not remain. It began to occur to him that perhaps the wood/rock stones of the clearing had not simply appeared there, but had been constructed using the wood from the forest the way that the birds stole straw to build a nest. That briefly caused him to pause, wondering if he was going to suddenly come across a pack of the creatures, gathering materials, but eventually the King reminded himself that they were noisy enough that he would feel them coming from a long way off. There was only one place that would really be suitable for a den, a pile of rocks that had been covered in dirt at some point and now created a stony bluff in the land. It would be sheltered from the snow in the winter and, once he cleared out some of the rocks, it would make a strong structure that wouldn't collapse easily. He pawed at the dirt a couple times, scraping away some of the grass and small plants, and a brief flare from the orange chips covering his body was enough to cause a cascading shower of loosened soil and create an indent in the bluff, before reminding himself that there was no reason for a den. The only pup to protect was too large to fit in a den, even a den made for a creature his size.

The King continued his patient exploration, even though there was nothing of import left to find. Somewhere in his journey, he began to wonder if the pup was actually going to come back. Perhaps his escape had been an accidental thing, brought about by his own appearance, and the wounds had been collected on its journey from the village to his location. Perhaps the Pack was even now tending to its lost pup, and they would be much more vigilant in their watching and caring in the future. If that was the case, there was no reason for the King to be staying here. He was never going to be a part of this strange pack, if simply because they seemed far more interested in entrapping him than letting him join. Beyond that, he had no interest in being anything but the leader of a pack, and if he wanted that he would have simply stayed with his own. All the same, he knew he would wait a couple of days before leaving again, just in case his initial impressions about the state of pup and pack were correct. A couple more days would make no difference in his strange, new quest.

In the end, though, the King did not even have to wait half a day before the pup returned. He had not stopped his patrolling this new area, so it was more than a few minutes after the pup returned to the forest that the King drew close enough to feel his footsteps vibrating through the ground and air.

He did not race to return to the pup. After all, he was neither a new mother nor a pup himself, and racing to do anything would do him no good. He might have hurried if the pup had left against his will, simply to remind him that he was never supposed to do such a thing again, but he had let this pup go. Now he had come back. It seemed that the negative impressions the King had originally received about this strange pack were true.

The King padded into the shaded stretch of ground where the two had originally met nearly silently, the only sound heralding his approach being the quiet crackle of the needles beneath his weight, and the soft sound of his own breathing. Once more his feelers reached out, brushing gently along the pup to confirm to himself that he was still mostly unharmed, Once the King was satisfied that "his" pup had sustained no new wounds he lay down gently, sprawling out across the ground in a furry lump. He whined slightly at the pup, inviting him over, before settling down to rest in the shade.

[PopeAlessandros]

As he comes to the place where he left the beast Kir-Kon slows to a stop, hesitating only a few seconds before walking out into the actual clearing. It is small, and shady, so he takes a few seconds to look around before slouching slightly and kicking the ground. 'Looks like it's gone, not that it had a need to stay or anything, but I thought it might be different from other animals. I guess I was just hoping. I really should stop doing that, it only leads me to disa-' His thoughts come to a screeching halt when his survival instincts kick I and he freezes at a new sound. Slowly his head rotates to locate the sound and it isn't until the dark beast steps into sight that the youth relaxes, a gentle look coming to his face.

“There you are. I thought you'd gone. Not that I'd blame you, that was one hell of a reception you got.” He closes his eyes, letting those tendrils “look” him over without having to worry about one poking him in the eye or anything. Once they draw back he watches with a soft look as the beast flops down like a big dog and the image pulls a small smile to his lips. “Once you decided I'm okay you gave up being vigilant around me huh? I guess I am unassuming and pathetic, so that makes sense. . . “ His voice trails off at the sound of the whine and it takes him a minute to do anything. He's spent a lot of time around animals, watching how they interact with one another and in truth understand them better than people.

So at the “Call”, the small sound that he recognizes as a “come hither” noise, Kir-Kon is unsure what to make of it. “That sounded like a mama calling to her cubs, though I can see now you are most definitely a boy. Am I your pet now or something? That's not a bad thing I suppose, but it is odd of a wild animal. Maybe I was right about you. Maybe. . .you're different. . . .” Finally responding to the noise Kir-Kon carefully makes his way over to the creature, turning and taking a seat in between it's outstretched legs. He's not quite confident enough yet to actually press up against the beast so he settles best he can without touching that slick furry underbelly.

Turning his focus on to his lunch to help him stay calm he pulls the drawstring and looks inside. He smiles again lightly at the sight of a decent portion of meat. “If those teeth are any indicator, you eat meat, so this is good. I can share.” Pulling out the entire lunch he lays the sack flat like a very small picnic blanket and sets out the meager meal. Despite being smallish the food is a good quality, the bread fresh, the cheese firm, the meat not overcooked, and as he cracks open the small jug of what must be his drink the tangy smell of fresh fruit wafts through the air.

“At least they feed me eh?” he asks the creature, looking at it with the same faint smile. He seems to grow more and more comfortable as he slowly sets in on the bead and cheese, tearing the hunk of meat in half and holding out half to the beast. He doesn't look at the large creature, simply continues to eat while waving the meat gently. He knows it would be better to lay it on the ground but as he wants to test a theory about how much the beast trusts him he keeps it in his hand. The slab of meat is about the same size and as he begins gnawing on the other half he hums softly, letting his mind wander to keep himself calm. 'Animals can tell when you're tense and that can make them tense, so if I wanna keep my hand I should at least do a little something to keep the peace'

[Jiskastya]

Written collaboratively

As the pup sits down, drawing out an object from somewhere that the King neither knew nor really cared, he continued to absentmindedly scan the forest. It was a strangely quiet place, especially in comparison to the forest he knew. Not many creatures would bother him or the Pack unless they were sitting on a fresh kill, but there was always something happening or moving in the forest, and it never did to be unaware. But here the most dangerous thing that ever moved was a bird or small rodent, things so harmless that the ward wouldn't even affect them. The King could get lazy here, if it was in his nature.

The smell of the meat drew his attention briefly, and he wondered for a moment how long it had been since he had ate. Whatever magic had caused his body to grow, it had seemed to finally break whatever had kept the hunger from affecting him. But he was not a whiner, to steal food from a pup. Especially not a wounded pup.

It took him a couple of minutes to realize that the pup had been holding an odd position for quite a while. The King didn't think much of his tendency to walk on two legs, but the pup had been holding a piece of meat tout towards his nose for a long time, not looking at it and hardly moving. Why was he doing this? Was it some sort of protection from things on the ground? But the King's feelers told him that there wasn't anything dangerous in the ground except a couple of small bugs. What did the pup want?

Gradually, however, it began to occur to him that the pup was trying to share. What he had brought was the “kill”, and he was doing as was proper, submitting the best portion for the alpha's consumption. Briefly the King considered refusing, pups always got to eat as much as they wanted, but perhaps, unable to properly communicate, this was the pup's way of trying to join the pack. The bite was hardly more than a scrap to him, but one of his feelers reached out, splitting open into the feathered tendrils, and wrapped around the piece, lifting it gently from the pup's paw.

For a long while the beast doesn't seem to pay the meat any attention, and Kir-Kon develops a few theories as to why. The top one he says aloud. “I guess it doesn't smell much like the meat you are use to eating, all raw and bloody. Maybe it doesn't smell good to you, hmmm? Well, I don't think cooking does anything bad, though I does removes some of the fat. You should try it.” He uses one hand to eat, keeping still for the most part between bites, and he is almost finished when at last he feels something. Turning his head ever so slightly he looks towards his hand and watches as those delicate little feathery bits from inside the tendrils help him scoop up the piece of meat. He smiles at this, slowly retracting his hand and licking it clean. He watches the beast, wondering what he'll make of the cooked hunk of flesh.

The King doesn't even bother to examine the food, once he had ensured that it is, in fact, meat. Satisfied, he moves it towards his mouth and swallows the morsel without even bothering to chew. He had tasted charred meat before, fire while hunting could prove an admirable technique against those creatures not used to the manipulation of flame, but this was far more delicate than any sort of charring. He caught a subtle pallet of other flavors before the chunk was gone down his jaw, lost forever. Only briefly did it occur to him to wonder if one of the not-meat somethings might hurt him, he had seen some plants do bad things to pups before they knew what to chew and what not to chew, but none of those plants had ever had a lasting effect on the King, and once he was briefly ill once, the plant never bothered him again. There was no sense in wondering about it.

“You just gulp it on down without a care. Either you're silly, you've had cooked meat before, or you're smarter than you should be. Being a beast and all. Not that beasts aren't smart, but. . .” He rambles on for a bit, downing the rest of his meal and emptying his juice jug. Licking his lips he puts the jug in the sack and tucks it back away into his tunic. Turning ever so slightly he reaches back to touch the side of the creature, slipping his fingers beneath the fur to feel the skin. “You're a tough guy. I can tell.” He pets the King's side a few more times before looking around. “At your size, you're going to need something more to eat than that. . .” He pauses for a moment, wondering if he should even bother, but as he has nothing better to do he decides to give it a try.

Standing up he brushes the grass and dirt off hi leggings and begins looking around for anything that might lead him towards some prey big enough to actually satisfy the large creature. He crouches ever once in a while, running his fingers over patches of ground that look like they may have tracks. He himself can't hunt the deer in the area, but he suspects that he may be able to coax the beast to follow, if he sends the right signals, and show him the best places to find food. 'After all, if he can keep fed around here, he's more likely to stick around, and he does break of the monotony of the day. . . .'

The King panted slightly as the pup touched his side, but other than that ignored his probings. He couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the pup, having only ten short feelers to sense the world. Then again, maybe he made up for the lack of them with strength in some other sense, or a sense that he did not understand, like how some of his prey animals were able to detect him at different times than others, for reasons that he could not understand. Either way, the pup seemed to make do. His pack all looked the same as him, and many of them survived into adulthood. Then again, protected by the ward as they were, perhaps that wasn't as much of an accomplishment as it might be.

When the pup got up the King nearly grabbed him. The pup had paid obeisance, and was a part of the pack, small pack though it was. Why was he wandering away now? He didn't go far fast, but it was clear from the pup's attitude that he wasn't intending to stretch his legs and then come back for a lazy afternoon nap. Shaking himself slightly in frustration, the King got to his feet. As a pack of two, there was no reason for them to stay in one place. It wasn't as though they had a territory. All the same, the King didn't like being subject to the pup's whims. He was a pup. His job was to watch his elders and learn from their actions, not wander away on his own and force the adults to follow.

Finally he finds a set that looks rather fresh, probably from the night or early morning. “Lining this up with my mental map of the woods, it looks like these three were headed for the stream a little ways from here. The grass in the area is lush, so they may still be around there. . .” Standing up he looks back towards the beast, stilling as he sees it on it's feet. “Sorry, didn't mean to get you up so quick.” Rolling his tongue around a bit he recalls the sound from before. After a moment if trying to work it out, he tries to imitate the “Come hither” sound. It sounds almost the same to his ears, though a higher pitch as he is a smaller creature, but it is good enough for him. He kneels beside the prints again, moving his hands around the area in hopes that the beast will be able to pick up the scent and get what he's trying to do.

Perhaps he had underestimated the sensitivity of the feelers on the pup's paws. The King watched with some curiosity as he grew slowly closer to the scent trail of a small group of prey that had passed through several hours ago, but it wasn't until he paused at the trail for longer than he had paused in the other places that the King realized this was what the pup had been looking for. Obviously scent wasn't this creature's strong suit, but he was able to track, if somewhat inefficiently. Was he still hungry? Had his pack not fed him enough? But, if he was hungry, why had he given the piece to the King? Although pups were rarely brought along on the hunt until they were old enough to not get in the way, pups were fed until they were full, as long as there was enough meat in general. But if the pup was hungry, he would hunt for him.

However, before the King could move towards the trail and start looking for his prey, the pup whined at him. It was slightly odd sounding and distorted, but it was clear enough for the King to know exactly what the pup was trying to say. The pup was summoning him, ordering him over. He was moving a split second later, one large paw hitting the pup's back and sending him tumbling onto his stomach. It was not an unnecessarily harsh blow, just enough to serve its purpose and knock him over. Then the King was on top of him, one large paw on either side of Kir-Kon's body. Obviously he had been to lenient with the pup, and a simple reminder would do it good. A growl rumbled in the King's chest, low and strong, before he snapped down towards the back of Kir-Kon's neck, fangs closing just close enough to flesh that the air brushed against him, without actually touching him.

Kir-Kon lets out a yelp at being knocked to the ground. For a split second he wonders if this is like the dogs of town, just getting over excited about something. Given the beast's size knocking him over could be an accident. However the second is over quickly and the youth can feel his heartbeat jump to full speed. The sounds coming from the creature easily Identify as angry and his teeth sink into his lip as he fights the urge to call out. 'After all, when has that ever done any good since the elder's death. No one bothers to even look any more when they hear my cries, except to laugh. And that aside, there's no one to hear me. I would just die here, alone. . .'

He does his best to keep breathing, his lungs freezing when he feels the snap, bare centimeters from the back of his neck. Automatically his hands snap around to the back of his neck and he curls into a fetal position, trying to hide as much of himself as he can. Despite the terror racing through him, a feeling that would have most people trying, hey does not shed a tear. He's been unable to cry for a while now, after having spent so many years doing so so often. Instead his eyes simply snap shut as he curls into a ball, and waits, praying he'll at least be able to walk after this.

The pup curls up tight between the King's legs, and although it is silent it also doesn't make any move to continue trying to dominate him. Satisfied that the pup has been reminded of its place in this odd pack the growls immediately cut off, and the King carefully steps away from him, moving over towards the scent trail. They are not of a variety with which the King is familiar, but they smell unmistakably of prey, a soft, leafy smell, mixed in with sweat, piss, and warm blood.

The King hesitates just before he would have bounded off after the creatures, wanting to bring back food for the pup, looking towards the creature.

It takes a moment for him to realize the beast is no longer above him. What at last he does figure it out though he slowly begins to uncoil. 'It didn't attack me. It didn't. . .Why then did it?' His mind flashes over everything he knows about pack animals, and after a moment he strike on a notion. Rolling carefully on his back he looks over at the beast. “Was I? Did you? Did I do something naughty?” His brows furrow at the notion, unable to come up with a better explanation. He looks at the King, watching him sniff around before turning his tendrils towards the youth, “Looking” at him. Kir-Kon slowly stands, keeping himself low.

The tumble had aggravated some of his wounds and he has to suppress a whine least the creature take it the wrong way. “All these little sounds we humans just take for granted, never know what it'll mean, hmm? Well, you don't seem to mind my talking, so I guess, ow ow ow ow ow, is the best I'm gonna get for expressing the burning sensation along my back and the stabbing pain shooting up my leg, hmm?” He looks off towards where the tracks lead, wondering vaguely if it was the scent of prey that distracted the large creature. He can feel the faint urge to flee, his heart still racing, but as the beast doesn't seem to be acting aggressive any more, he's gone back to being predominately curious.