I had wandered after my conversation with Jezebeth, seriously considering the possibility of staying in Iromar. I could still smell the stench of it on my fur. Not entirely unpleasant, but not what I was used to. The humidity of the marshes seemed to cling to me, even though I was now somewhat distant from those lands. It was as if, despite myself having not made a decision, the land had claimed me without my knowledge. Still, all this talk of demons. It seemed almost like a strange cult to me. I almost looked to be one of them, my black coat a mirror of Jezebeth’s, minus the stain on hers that looked almost like wet blood. My eyes too, held a difference, mine being green rather than crimson. Still, to at least look like I physically belonged somewhere was a temptation in itself. I had stood out in my homeland, being the only wolf with dark fur where all my counterparts were fair.


I froze lightly as my eyes caught movement ahead. I inhaled deeply, trying to catch the other’s scent on the wind. I had run into that other wolf, Elowen, and while talking to her had been unpleasant, if rather dull, I had no reason to seek her out again. This scent was not one I recognized, however. I could also smell old blood on the air, barely noticeable unless being extremely mindful. I crept up silently, my legs bent to lower myself to be less noticeable. Thankfully, the area was fairly wooded and provided enough cover that with my darkened fur, I should be fairly well hidden.


I stop once I am able to spot the other wolf through the brush. She is weeping openly, rolling around on the ground, apparently where the scent of blood was coming from. My lip curls, bearing my glistening teeth. Such sentimentality was disgusting.


I remain frozen when the female suddenly stands and growls, wondering if he has been found out. But no, she moves on. Perhaps she is angry about whatever transpired. When she moves, it is quite clear that she is carrying children. Good, she should be of little threat to him then, most likely preoccupied with whatever it is females do when they are with child.


Once she is out of sight, I follow, sticking to the shadows as before. I freeze when I hear her voice, still out of sight ahead. If I am brave enough? Hah. I am not hiding because I am a coward. I am hiding because I want to know what the hell this strange female is doing! Rolling in pools of old blood? Why would someone dirty themselves so? He again hears her growl to herself. Perhaps this strange female is going mad. Well, best to find out.


I raise myself up to my full height, no longer crouching to remain unseen. I pick up my pace and approach from the direction she has come, her path easy to follow.


“So tell me,” I say, arrogance present in my voice, as always, “what type of grief is it that can cause someone to roll about in dried blood like a rat?”

LOKI
. male . five years . solid black . not mated . not imprinted . no pack .
Kerowyn