Letting Sleeping Dogs Lie

[Guppy]

Noura had begged.

She had cajoled the hunter's boy to accompany her here to the water's edge. It was a silent moment as the night pressed into their hides. The cold breeze raced over the thawing lake towards them. The lake had special significance to them both, but she did not mention it. She did not think that he looked upon that moment with as much affection as she did. So, she gazed out over the placid surface and smiled to herself.

Honestly, it had taken less than she had expected to get him here. Even when one considered their blossoming affection. Perhaps she was not the only one of the two worried about her meeting with a wolf. The wolf that could shift her frame at will. The wolf that had proved trustworthy on numerous occasions. Still, this was a meeting of grave importance.

Nervously, she reached out to offer him her hand - more for herself than him.

She had no idea if the wild woman would even show up. She had spread the word that she was looking for Kacela, but she would not have been surprised if she the woman was too cautious. Humanity was looking far less favorably upon wolves after the last incident.

She had questions aplenty. About wharwolves. About Gloria. She prayed the woman had answers.

They waited.

[catch]

It was here, on the edge of a Lake that Son always wanted to forget, that he stood with her. It was here where, when offered, their hands came clumsily together - Son's broad paw with it's thick, well-worn fingers twining with hers. It was cold, but there was something different on the air, too. It wasn't the iron, sterile wind of a frozen winter. That was still there, of course, in overwhelming tones. But as Son took a deep, deep breath, the smell of wet-rot was there, too. That smell that was a strange mixture of life and death that only plants could produce, after a rain, an autumn day - or during a thaw.

He stood with Noura, and it hadn't taken much pleading at all to bring him here, quiet, holding her hand at the side of the Lake.

"I killed someone," he says, finally. The wet-rot smell settled into his lungs. But it was easier than when Cherny had coaxed it out of him, easier to say it a second time, slow, with only a trace of reluctance.

"I didn' mean to. It jus' 'appened. So I - I ran away. An' came 'ere."

It wasn't even the whole truth. But it was, maybe, enough.

[Guppy]

Her own digits were long and narrow, warm and accepting. She had her own calluses, the mark of a woman well-used to crafting traps and otherwise working with her hands. They clung to one another through the lifeline of their hands as the winter winds attempted to steal their breath from them. She felt as if they were standing in the eye of the storm, clinging together like pieces of detritus.

Because in the end, that's what they were. The waste of Myrken.

While they waited, he seemed to come to some sort of conclusion. His confession made time stand still for a moment and startled eyes turned to peer at him. Startled eyes that soon shifted to something akin to sympathy. She digested the news, her eyes holding sharp intellect.

Then, she smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "It was an accident."

Though she wasn't altogether certain if she would have minded, either way.

[Dulcie]

The wild woman had little use for the town, or the people that were there. She had talents that were able to help the townspeople, but they were afraid of her, and now with her home in the woods with her mate she had little reason to leave his side, content with his presence in her life and the need for very little else.

Still, she had heard the whispers that -someone- was looking for her, and so she came, cautiously, slowly, and after a good amount of time in the bushes spent watching the others. She came in her human form, dressed in her leathers and bare feet as she often was when she wore her human skin. She stalked forth from the bushes, carrying with her a presence that could only be described as predatory, her deep brown eyes, rimmed with a hint of amber swept over the pair as she watched them.

"You are looking for me?" She queried in that strange speech of hers, standing a number of feet away from them as she assessed the situation.

[Guppy]

Their moment was interrupted by their purpose for being here.

A brittle smile was offered to the wolven woman and her slim fingers slipped away from Son. She moved forward, ending up a scant few feet from Kacela upon the edge of the gently lapping lake. They stood, each searching the other while words remained unspoken.

Beats of silence stretched between them.

"There was a wolf," she began, finally. "A mother who attacked Cherny to feed her brood. I --." For a moment, her voice failed her and the scent of unspilled tears rose in the winter air. "I killed her. Also out of necessity."

A moment's glance back towards Son, gathering strength from his presence. The affection written on her features as she gazed upon him was abundantly clear before she turned back to Kacela.

"A few nights ago, another wolf came for revenge. He stood upon two legs at times and his eyes revealed an unmistakeable intelligence. He came for me and he took Gloria's hand as penance. Do you know anything that you could tell us? Or are you here for revenge, too?"

There was none of their typical teasing between them. This was business.

[Dulcie]

She listened. Silence was something that the humans almost always failed at, but she was quite capable of it. Perhaps it came from the fact that she had struggled so long with the language that she had to consider each and every word. Noura's were no different. Everything spoken first, attended to and carefully weighed.

"There is not enough food for humans. Not enough for the animals. You kept your own safe, you can not be blamed." A judgement made even as that animal side of her stirred, felt for it's descendants, the common wolf that had been killed. Still, there was a cycle of life amongst animal kind.

"I do not know the one that Walks on Two Legs. I have seen him yes, once, nearly a year ago perhaps. But we are not of the same making. If I wanted revenge you would not have lived to open your mouth. Perhaps the wolf is ill. It was not the girl who killed the wolf, it was you. This is not how revenge works for the wolf. This one that Walks on Two Legs is different than my people." She wanted that emphasized, looking at Noura carefully.

"Your friend. Does she live? Has the lost hand made her a wolf?" She doubted it would, but there was a great deal of lore surrounding werewolves and from what she could tell from Kals and his books each breed could be quite different than another. Not that she had ever met a different breed than herself and this strange two legged creature. "My people, my kind.. it is very difficult to become one with the wolf. Only the strongest are chosen by the wolf spirit. Many die trying. A lost hand would not change a human."

[catch]

It wasn't a lie.

It felt like one. Tasted like one.

He smiled at her smile, and he tilted his head to accept that kiss, but it all felt sour.

An accident.

Before he could explain, or say anything more, the wolf-woman was there. Noura slipped from his hand, but the rough fingers were reluctant to let it go, dragged out by his unwillingness. He had heard the story before. He was glad Kacela said what she did, though Son watched her warily, hands stuffed in his pocket so he could grip the heavy, bone haft of Papa's knife. Just in case. Not that a little knife could do much to a whar-wolf.

"You see'd it?" he blurts out, the way a blustery boy would. And then, with perfect skepticism, "That ain' how whar-wolves're made. They got pelts an' fur-belts what's enchanted."

[Guppy]

Her own kind.

Alas, she was uncertain if there were any that could be called her kin. She could comprehend the meaning behind the words, though.

"It was instinct. Cherny is a dear friend and to see him --," she was unable to continue - recalling the she-wolf atop the struggling boy, great panicked bleats of noise spilling from him as he flailed under her jaws. She blinked to clear the image that had been already burned into the backs of her eyelids. "Still, it is no excuse." Meekly offered, guilt a heavy weight upon her heart.

The explanation was a bit lacking. It was clear that Kacela did not know much about the matter, but this was useful, too. In its own way.

"Gloria lives. He only attempted to do damage to her. I have not seen her shift into a wolf," she remarked, casting a glance at Son when he made his protests. "But she is within the Rememdium lost to all manner of medicinal drugs." She would let the two of them argue over the different legends if they wished. It did not much matter.

"Could you help us find him? If he is going to attack those I care for, I would like to force the issue and face him." Another glance towards Son, rather pointedly.

"Alone."

[Dulcie]

She considered them both. How childlike so many of the humans here seemed to be, and yet faced with the issues that haunt adults. It would have been fascinating if she cared more about it.

For Son there was a long look. "My mate has read many things about what you call were wolf. It could be there are both." Not that she had ever seen one. In fact the two legged beast was the only creature even remotely close to her kind that she had encountered.

For Noura there was a bow of her head. "I can track him yes. Do you have something with his scent?"

[catch]

Son regards the wild woman with all the keyed-up arrogance of a young boy, keen to let her know of his certain intelligence, which is nothing more than firm opinion. But he had another fight, and it was this one. Sharp, and no small amount of angry.

"No, you ain'. You cain' go alone. That ain' bein' a proper hunter."

[Guppy]

Noura considered the woman for a long moment, her eyes liquid pools of nacre in her up-turned face.

She turned to the satchel hanging at her side and loosened the leather holding it closed. She pulled out a worn, rumpled cloak. She extended it towards the wolf-woman with a hopeful expression. "This. I wore it when we met. " The scent might have been there, if she could swim through the Noura, the Son, the Gloria, the Cherny upon it.

Son refuted her desire to fight her own battles. Her teeth clenched and she shot the young man a sharp glace.

"You told me of your need to go to the woods alone, despite the danger. You have no say in this, Son."

Despite her sharp woods, her eyes were soft. Apologetic.

[Dulcie]

She took the rag bit of cloth and sniffed it, taking a long inhale that was completely inappropriate by any human standard. She let it hang from her hand then and took two long, purposeful strides towards Noura. If the girl didn't back away she'd give her a similar sniffing, her nose close to the girl's shoulder as she inhaled, differentiating the scents.

"Yes. I can track this. I will find you when I have your wolf."

She didn't wait for another response, she just stalked back into the woods, unless of course she was stopped along the way