Fear? The Wolf knows no fear. No, we don't belong...because we are stronger. It snarled and paced. It was getting agitated.
We are the evolution. Survival of the fittest, and we deserve our rightful place above and beyond all of creation. And you... It glared at him, stopping its pacing for a moment.
You didn't belong. You held onto your weak, frail humanity, let it draw you back in. We had to cull you. That fool of a blood mage thinks he controls them, but we know better. The Pack is its own. And it takes care of its own loose ends. Whether by bringing them back into the Pack...or ending them.
Grayell grinned now, but his mouth was frothing, his breath hard. He was pissed beyond belief, but held it in.
The pack is of MY blood. A blood that I have refused. I have killed the source before me and each after me is pale in comparison. I don't want to belong. They are beneath me.
He grinned wider now. stepped from where he had stood and turned on the beat. He looked at it with death in his eyes, but a mocking, taunting expression that showed his disgust.
But I don't need it. I don't even want it. And before you dragged me back, before you took me again - I WAS KILLING EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOUR SPAWN WITH MY VERY HUMAN HANDS.
Your are nothing. An aberration. You are running scared, breeding and f***ing like a rat, hoping to outpace humanity.
But you know the truth. You are resigned to your corners in the pocket of the world. You have not the power to venture into the cities of men. You cannot stand against the might of a creature so frail and yet so filled with passion that it overwhelms you. You are weak. You prey on the weak alone, you strike in the dark and hide in your hole. You have no rightful place. None. You are endangered.
The wolf snarled, baring its teeth, but the damage was done. There were a thousand ways to tell that a wolf was scared, and Grayell saw only one. But it was scared. It took a step closer.
Numbers. That's all it boils down to. Numbers. One day we'll be more than you can handle...any of you. One day we'll take our place...and by everything you believe in we will come for you. Do not make that mistake.
Grayell laughed then and stepped closer as well. His hands folded in front of his chest and he sneered with delight. His eyes were alive, firey and completely dominating.
You don't think I know you? After ALL of these countless years that I could not? I have known you longer than ANY alive, don't try your mind games with me pup.
You need our numbers to grow. You can't birth your own, you're just a disease. Sludge, a cold, a flu. You can't hope to match our growth, we spread further across the plains with each day. We build magnificent things to keep you out. We create new weapons that destroy you with ease.
You are running out of time. Survival of the fittest my foot.
Grayell laughed then, shook his head in a manner that almost felt pity for the beast.
You're pathetic. And when you come... I'll be waiting.
Grayell folded his arms then and spat. He watched it as it faded, lips curled and unimpressed. It had no more tricks for him. It was weak. It had haunted him so long with his past that now... well he was simply immune.
I don't deny the wolf. I accept it. I've mastered it. You're just the hellspawn in the pit, the perversion of it, the copy. The lesser version, the mutation, the castaway.
No. You're not the wolf. You're just a mistake.
He scoffed, lifted his hand, his thumb flicked his nose.
Ask around bub. I am the wolf. The real deal. And if I were you...
... I'd stay far out of MY neck of the woods.
You're nothing but a nightmare. I'm not sleeping any more.
The visions died in the dark and Grayell felt alone, contently alone for the first time in a long time. He was feeling entirely.... relaxed when the pain and light seared in.
His eyes open to gaze upon what he could make of the sky and he coughed. Black and blood sputtered from his mouth and his hands feebly reached for something, anything. He couldn't feel a lot in terms of control but he burned with pain, his mind entirely wracked with enough pressure that it seemed ready to burst from his skull. Breathing hurt, trying to move hurt...
So his only ability was to speak.
... Kiko........
The elder gave the word and the crowd remained silent. The gate was opened and immediately, a pack of 6 lifted Grayell from the ground and carried him in silence from the pit. He would awaken much later, but for now he was housed in a ritual tent, the Garou intent on healing the damage done.
Aeron turned to Zaedus and Kiko with.... almost kind but sombre eyes. His voice lacked it's former power but instead spoke with sincerity.
"Go to him now. He has survived and has mastered both beasts... but what will be left of him I cannot say."
Aeron's eyes glassed over and he turned his head with a sigh, He walked back to his own hut, demanding to be left alone.
Kiko’s eyes followed Grayell as he was carried from the pit. She sighed with relief when they removed him from that hole of nightmares, her body swaying from weariness. Aeron’s words were meant to be reassuring, at least she assumed so, but his voice carried such a solemn tone.
She offered him a quiet thank you before he could get but a few steps away. What Zaedus said, or asked she never knew she was already headed toward the ritual tent they’d carried Grayell inside.
The first thing she felt when she stuck her head inside was heat. The tent was a good twenty degrees warmer than the world outside. Two of the women she recognizes as the ones that had dressed her, and the elder that had spoken to her while they did so.
He was so still.
He survived.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
The same old woman smiled as Kiko entered, she was busy grinding a mixture in a pestle. She placed it aside and approached Kiko, then ushered her inside. She smiled, but her words were not of joy.
"He has succeeded Kiko. But with defeating the beast, his body has lost the means to regenerate, to heal quite so easily. The damage is severe. His organs.. are almost beyond repair. His legs are useless, his spine shattered.
We will do our best. Our magics are not weak, but he is not in a place we can so easily help him. But know this.
We will not give up on him. He will wake sometime... and then you two will be reunited."
The old lady smiled and began to smear the mixture over Grayell, others were busy mending his torn abdomen, stitching frantically, others still working their magics in the hope of saving his whole body. He did not move.
Several days passed where Kiko became more familiar with the Garou and the tundra around her. There was beauty in this stark world. Desolate it might be, but the simple brilliance of a sunrise filled the sky with a thousand different shades of color. She spoke to Zaedus occasionally her need to avoid looking at the Worgen was gone. She had stopped running.
She didn’t speak to many, she was still as quiet as ever, but she no longer tried to avoid people. The children of the Garou delighted her with their carefree laughter. Of course, they had discipline, behavior that was encouraged; such as respect for their elders. Still, watching them at play was her favorite pastime.
Grayell continue to recover. She was usually in the ritual tent two or three times a day, but he hadn’t spoken yet, or opened his eyes.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Perhaps the most reassuring sign should anyone witness was his knee lifting. He breathed in slow but load and his lips smacked, his chest stirring. He had no voice yet, it was dry and gone at this moment... and he ached. His wounds had all but healed entirely, bandages wrapping his core; but it hurt to move.
The moon shone through the door to this hut, directly spilling a silver light onto him. He pulled his head forward, gritting his teeth and with an excruciating expression and wound out a hand to pull on his raised knee. His back left his bed and he sat, still clutching his leg for support. Dizzy. Thirsty. Groggy. Lost. Tired.
Kiko was not far away. She was, in fact, just outside the ritual tent. The moonlight was luminous enough to light up the ground, and the light snow that had fallen during the evening made it pristine. It was perfect. The Wolf sword was cradled in one elbow when she took the first steps into the untracked snow. Her feet were so light it did not make a sound.
She went through a whole series of attack moves. Not that she was practicing them, this was about the footwork. She landed in the same tracks each time her feet went through the motions. There was no deviation from the pattern, and hadn’t been since she began. When she came to a halt it was in the first set of steps where she had started.
She sighed out a low sound, more for relaxation than because she was tired and bowed her head.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Fingers first touched to either side of her waist, then palms as they slid around, then his arms as they wrapped about her. He pressed to her back and without so much as a sound, laid his chin on her shoulder, his eyes closed.
A sigh escaped his nostrils, soft and happy. He brought warmth with his body and held her firm.
Kiko’s eyes slid closed. She didn’t need sight to know it was Grayell. She could feel him, even inside. Her heartbeat thudded once and then regained its normal pattern. Her skin was warming up fast.
Welcome back.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
He smiled at her words and it washed away the greater part of his pain. Her warmth was a prayer, a blessing on his skin and whilst he could feel the delicate artwork of her body against him, it was her smell, her sound, her energy that kept him close.
He turned his chin on her shoulder and nuzzled into her neck gently. He made a slight purr in his throat, a sound of contentment. He sighed, softly and she could feel him relax, almost melt behind her. His eyes opened, only slightly to compliment his smile and he stared at her, lost in her magic.
He said nothing for a moment, the void filled with their breathing. Then he opened his mouth, his lips pressed to her neck, then pulled at her skin gently with a kiss.