[PRP] From the Waylands (Wretched x Fire Burns Through Her)

[Krysin]

His kind often did not venture so far south from the Waylands and away from the eyes of their king. To see a creature like him was a rarity, and most of the animals of Kells knew to stay clear out of his path. He walked with a tick, his muscles flexing underneath coarse, wiry fur. Warpaint had been splattered across his face and shoulders carelessly and stained his coat a stunning pink. It was vastly different from the dye and tattoos carefully applied to some direwolves' coats. But, it was not without meaning, though he cared little to share that with anyone.

Wretched's travels had not been entirely lonesome - he had found a female he fancied and had courted her relentlessly. The pair had gone their separate ways shortly after their union, though Wretched had no idea why. It bothered him, why the female had left when he had put so much effort into her. He was a Berserker - there were no better males so far south than he. Wretched knew that with grim certainty. If he found her again, he would prove to her his worth and she would not be allowed to slip out of his paws again.

He growled, frustrated by the memories that plagued his mind. The sound was deep and feral, enough to spook a flock of birds into flight. He could hear their frantic caws over the soft beat of their wings as they vacated the area.

The Berserker had wandered deep into the redwoods, where the trees were large enough to make even him look small. Snuffing out the flame to his infuriated thoughts, Wretched released a heavy breath that rattled in the air. The large wolf rolled his shoulders and craned his neck to will clarity back to his mind. It never lasted long, the moments where he could think calmly and clearly. Somehow and some way, he wound find something to pick at until it crumbled apart. His mind would find its focus, and he would dive back into the depths of his obsessions.  

[oo Ded]

Fire moved quickly through the towering, barren woods. It wasn't a run. Not something focused, full of intent and purpose. She didn't move as though she was headed towards some destination just around the next tree. The wolf moved with a quiet, slow burn. As if she were trying to get away from a pesky cloud of insects. As if there was some rumbling anxiety deep in her stomach.

She didn't know where she was going. Why she was going. Fire was a wolf who fueled herself on purpose, but that had none within her. In place of her reserve of passion she found a pit. She found nothing. A void.

How many moons had it been, now, since her life had fallen apart? Since the fissure had formed that split her from everything that she had known and cared for? The pack that had once been her home might have been gone now, for all she knew. Everything she had loved—her brother, the she-wolf had become her lover, the companions she had known for what seemed life lifetimes—it was all gone, now. They were probably her enemies, now, following a series of events that she still couldn't wrap her mind around.

Fire had lost count of how much time had passed. She just moved, now, with a gnawing feeling inside of her that shifted from anger to regret to loneliness to a deep and profound fury. Her jaw set and her teeth ground, her mind just a resting place for a stream of empty thoughts that came as quickly as they went.

The disruption of birds, the flurry of their wings and the sound of their distancing caws, grounded her mind. Her lip curled and a soft but deep growl left her throat as she looked up ahead of her towards where the disruption had come from. She continued to move, weaving around the wide tree trunks, a flame in her eyes and a snarl on her maw.

Krysin

 

[Krysin]

He smelled her before he saw her, the bitter scent of ash carried on a soft breeze. It made him stop in his tracks even though he had not been moving at a great pace. The scent he could tell was that of a wolf's, though he could not discern much more than that. While Berserkers were rare outside of the Waylands, it was not impossible to run across one. Wretched alone was evidence of that. There were other species that were far more common in these lands.

His stomach twisted, and for a moment he thought of coming across the female he had lost. Despite how much he had mused over it the past months, he still had no idea what he would do if he ever found her again.

Knowing better than to get his hopes up, he instead tensed as he heard the sound of steps across the forest floor. He stood still, hackles raised, lips pulled back to reveal a row of sharp yellowed teeth. Wretched was as tall as a bear, and had been mistaken as one on more than a few occasions. To most, he would be intimidating to stumble across - a creature best avoided if one valued their life. But when he saw the she-wolf emerge from the depths of the wood, he was greeted with a snarl before anything else. Fear, anxiety, and concern were all things he expected to see upon a stranger's face. In those first few moments, there was not a trace of any upon the female's face.

Her thick pelt was dyed with fire, and matched the look in her eyes as their gaze met. A growl rumbled low in his chest, a gesture so ingrained in his psyche that there was no chance of a better greeting than that. "Greetings." The word was nothing more than a mockery of etiquette - it was clear he cared little for it. He stalked closer towards her, waiting for the moment where her defiant features were shattered by fear.

"Two lone wolves. Coincidence? No. You came to me." The words and ideas were a little disjointed. In his youth, it had been much worse. Poorly socialized with all of the natural Berserker aggression, it had been a trial for Wretched to learn how to interact with others.

oo DeD

 

[oo Ded]

Her chest tightened immediately as she saw him. Before she could fully comprehend what she saw before her, Fire felt her breath catch in her throat and her head drop into her stomach. The feeling wasn't fear. It wasn't a rush of adrenaline and the immediate need to flee. It was… it was something else. Her first thought wasn't that this was a fearsome creature that she needed to run from. She saw the large and broad frame of a Berserker and, for the shortest blip of a moment, she thought that it might be her.

Then there came the distinct realization that it wasn't. That this was a male wolf, his brown body and pink markings distinctively different than the wolf she had known. Different than the last creature to have seen her vulnerabilities.

Even then the first feeling that came to her wasn't a new fear. It was frustration. Anger at her own feelings that she didn't seem to be able to control. A rumbling fury aimed towards herself for feeling this way. Towards the world for being what it was.

Her steps came to a stop as he moved towards her She stiffened, her eyes narrowing and her head tilting upwards to meet his gaze as he spoke. Her frustration overshadowed any logic or fear that had existed in her mind. She was angry, and the creature in front of her was just another thing in her way.

"Vain of you to think that, hm?" she spat back with a firmly set jaw. "What makes you so special that I'd seek you out?"

Krysin

 

[Krysin]

Laughter rattled in the back of his throat as the female voiced her challenge. To stalk so close to her and not see fear in the reflection of her amber eyes was a rare treat. A gift, rather, for a Berserker who did not hold the company of others. None would have him around long enough, and it had never bothered him. It was only when he lost something that he cherished and his that he felt unsettled. "Vanity?" he answered, rolling the world around on his tongue as if it were a toy. "Yes," the Berserker agreed.

"You see me. My merits," he implored plainly with the female. His paw swept low over the ground, elongated claws scraping against dry earth. The gesture ended with his paw pointed towards his chest, silently demanding that she look and realize what he was. Ill-fitted for the societies of the world, but also unhindered by them because of it. He was a wolf of his own design, at odds with the world he had been born in.

"I have no reason to fear you. You have every reason to fear me." He couldn't get past it, the fact that she was unafraid. His mind wrapped around that single truth in a vice-like grip. "You do not." Finally, his slow stalk towards her came to a halt. He was closer than most timid wolves would allow him, but not so close as to invade her personal space. It was an unspoken act of respect, but he was fickle with it, just as likely to give it as he was to take it away.

"I am Wretched," the name was spoken with a snarl. His head ticked to the left, bright blue eyes growing dim from lack of focus. The moment passed quickly, and he rolled his shoulders as if to break the spell his body had cast upon him. "What makes you special?" the wolf countered. "Fearless, yes. Foolish, though? Maybe."

oo DeD

 

[oo Ded]

'My merits.'

She quite nearly rolled her eyes, then. Instead, she kept her eyes on him, ignoring the sweeping motion as if in defiance. "I see you," Fi said plainly, confirming the first portion of his statement. Then, low and under her breath, she continued "though if what I see constitutes all your merits I'd be a bit disappointed."

Fi's eyes narrowed as she watched him near, her jaw setting again. 'You have every reason to fear me.' There was truth there. He was larger than her. She'd certainly lose in a fight of strength. She might be faster than him and might be able to escape, relying on speed and the abundance of bare trees around them. He was close, though. She'd have to react remarkably quickly if he were to strike at this close a distance. Still, she stood her ground. Fear was for those who still had something left to lose.

The wolf watched his ticks. What a strange creature. Was he like other Berserkers? She had only known a few. Had only really known one. And that one had a strength and a power to her that Fire had admired deeply. Now, that lingering admiration sat in her stomach like a sour meal.

"I am Fire." She introduced her own name with her own spit of attitude. Almost with disdain. She didn't say her full name. Her full name belonged to a being she wished to leave far behind her.

"What makes me special?" The wolf responded, now a wry smile creeping into the edge of her mouth. The look was both dark and playful. Equal parts coy and reckless. "If I went and gave away all my secrets that wouldn't be very special, now would it?"

Krysin

 

[Krysin]

He gave her an appraising look as she introduced herself - a name was no good if it did not describe the wolf who carried it. Many used their name as a mask, an idealization of what they wanted to be rather than who they were now. It mattered little to Wretched what a wolf could become, he only saw what was in front of him now. She was fire. If he got too close, she would burn him, and if he stayed close she would reduce him to smoldering ashes by the time they parted ways. He should exert caution around her, but it was not his way. After all, he was wretched.

"So you are," he agreed, the rasping tone of his voice merely asserting the truth of her name rather than complimenting her for it.

The berserker tutted disapprovingly, annoyance twisting his face into a snarl. "No," he spit the word, as if that would change everything she had said that had displeased him. "Keep no secrets from me. Do, and I will tear them out of your throat and usher them into the light with your dying breath. Weak. Only the weak keep secrets, hide behind words. Think your secrets are enough to keep your windpipe from being crushed? Foolish. Careless." He had begun pacing now, upset but unable to properly express the depth as to why he was. If she wanted to run, now would be her only chance, while he was caught up in the fervor of displeasure.

"You are Fire, fire does not hide what it is. It only burns, destroys, consumes."

oo DeD