Large brutish paws broke the dirt and the grass as he swept down from the  mountain and into the meadow below. Large body pushed to it's limits, brain exhausted. He knew if he kept pushing the edge of dangerous and outrageous he was going to lose his mind, but he couldn't quite calm down fully. 

He thought through the last few weeks and felt a great ball of injustice and anger and sadness all war deep within. He hated not being trusted. He hated being lied about. He hated being lied too. It was bull shit. All he could think was over and over again how he was stuck with dickfucks and it was pissing him off, now.

How hard was it to be decent. Like actually a decent unlying piece of shit. Then he felt like shit himself for thinking such things, but didn't he have a reason to be angry at all this fuckery that was swirling around him. The urge to step further into the sun and disappear was strong, but he had promised Meadow he would return in three days. And he'd be damned if he broke that fucking promise. But holy hell, the leaders of Epoch were making that difficult as hell, them and their spawn from hell. Nope demons were friendlier.

He chased out the thoughts with each pound of his large paws on the ground each breath pressed from his lungs. Deep and ragged he breathed, but he pressed on.

great swathes of barren springland were empty space between them.

far away, parallel to him, she stalked in pace to his angry stride.

over time she drifted closer, then closer - daring the range of his teeth.

good dey, gjørmann. her eyes gaped vibrant and red. vhat has rynket your bro'?

He hadn't noticed her at first, but he had begun too. She was stalking him like prey and it filled him with a small burning need to show teeth and claws, but he didn't. A low warning growl was what he gave as she neared him.

Blue eyes went across her chocolate fur to those red eyes. Great a demon incarnate, just his fucking luck.

Lies.

That was all he said and then he would wait and see. WOuld they clash or speak or neither.

he rumbled as the earth does. her eyes glanced back, over powerful quiver of muscle. tightened skin thinned by slashing scars.

she remained - playing scavenger crow to this mighty bear.

"lees, gjørmann?" the wolfess said with innocence, lips a-pout. "who'd dare lyve to mighty you?"

She traced the scars and hardened body. Years of work had gone into making him what he was. He didn't know how he felt with her dissecting each piece of him with a glance, but so be it. He was not in control of others and it was important to remember that.

He smiled, sharp toothed. Someone who doesn't know me very well. And that was all he had to say about it. The boy didn't know him, nor what he was capable of. He had refrained, would continue to.

He shifted. What are you doing out here? he asked quietly. Done with teh conversation of him.

for every step of his, she made three. trotting in a hurry to keep her gaze on him.

mighty ones always moo-ster misundershtood. the woman nodded in sympathy. tiny cackle drowned in her gut.

but she?

swarthy muzzle split with a bonewhite grin.

we look, gjørmann. wide eyes expanded. bones call bones. but really, they looking for meat.

she lunged ahead and twisted her neck.

feed meat this ravn? hm? we offer ears and thinking. not mooch beside.

She kept pace, though it was hard. Part of him felt bad, but also part of him hadn't wanted any attention anyway. So he also felt vindictive in a way and that disgusted him. He was being an ass.

She reminded him of the Valkiries he had heard stories of. Strong and hideous, and crazy. But he didn't mind much he supposed. Because wasn't he just that way. One foot in the grave and a mind fogged with war.

I'll get you something to eat. He stopped to think. Then switched his direction towards where there should be goats. He could probably find a smallish one to fell.

at his agreement, the woman whooped with delight, and hopped two steps. 

then, bending spine and tail, she fell into frenzy of darting licks, barely misting the air about his distant chin, his large feet -

a beggar woman's gratitude for a coin tossed her way.

tinted with mocking performativity

gjørmejeger mighty, ja! she tripped paw over paw keeping up. hunt for you and us? we take small meat, small bones. meece to mighty gjørmejeger!

and we always offer ears. black auds perked forward.

He shifted, ears laid to his skull at her display. It grated, but he said nothing. Just shook her off as he would a fly and moved forward, pressing away from her. And further into the hills. Scented the air, he looked around trying to pinpoint where the goats were.

Not much to be said. Sometimes other's lie for their own gain and I hate it.

Slowly he caught the scent of an elderly lame ewe and followed the trail. Blue eyes picking up the tracks and the broken bracken.

her face slit by hungry white.

she fell back, tailing after the great width of him. the fool waddling after her lord, cap a-jangling.

There was something about this wolf, that had him on his edge almost the entire time that it took him to hunt the goat. She was wild and reckless and there were flames of crazy dipping into her eyes. She was one that could treat him sweet as pie or set upon him with teeth and claws and rip his face from him. He didn't know what had caused such a thing.

IT didn't take him long and he motioned for her to watch. Keep the other's from coming towards me if you can.

Then with speed that was not usual for someone of his size, but he had learned it. He raced towards the ewe. It wouldn't take long, for she was far too old and far too lame to run well or far. And once she lay at his feet, his golden accented fur red with death. He shifted and allowed the other she wolf to do as she pleased and eat her fill.

she was stirred in the soul by promise of food, and the sheep - thick-wooled and curl-horned - saw what must've been a demon, dancing around them as a greater wolf felled their line-mother. 

they would bleat farewells to the old ewe, then retreat mountainwise. 

( some stopping to shake horns at the sickly black shadow what twirled and cackled between them and the grisly scene, but no help would reach the ewe. )

when her gjørmejeger brought the sheep down, she whooped a howl. hopping as a mockery of what was killed, eurmal brought herself nearer.

she would again bend back and tail, and approach and retreat from the kill, testing the generosity of this hunter.

when no resistance came, she'd dive into the thin skin of armpit, gutting the kill.

her teeth would turn brighter red than her eyes.

Though he had thought she would be hard to keep in line. She managed to keep the goats away well. His esteem rose a notch for her. he didn't like her by any means, but at least she didn't bother him to entirely much anymore.

Reyson watched her eat for a brief moment, seconds really. And then turned his gaze towards the area around them. It was beautiful here. And for the first time in days, his mind was quiet and he could enjoy it as it was. Whole and unmarred and peaceful.

slick meat slid down her throat, gulp after gulp.

( later on, it'll exit the same way, starved belly rejecting it )

her muzzle glistened with wetness, and her eyes rolled up, to see the gjørmann staring off.

she licked her whiskers, placed a paw on the warm kill.

we have ears, remember? the she-shadow wheezed, sweeping them forth. 

her grin was bloodstained now.

A small lift of one side of his maw and he tilted his nose downward, his ear forward. Perhaps you do, but there isn't much that needs said. Someone lied about me and possibly made my next days a lot harder. And I can do nothing, because he is a child.

He shrugged a broad shoulder. There was many things he could say, but none of it seemed that it would work. Nor did he care to share it with someone he barely knew. This wolf was no one to him. Sure she may listen, but what would happen when she took his words to another.

child? her gasp. other paw rose to chest in a performance of offense.

and is this barn yours, your broother's?  

the woman played up belligerence. she rose to sit, continuing while viciously scratching her neck with a hindleg:

job of barn to obey mighty adult! that is way of things, between true and mudborn. 

her leg lowered, and she looked again at the mud-hunter.

you show this barn strength and teeth, ja?

bright red grin.

Reyson shook his head. Not mine. My child died honorable in battle. I did nothing. There was nothing to do. I am not a leader here.

He tilted is head. Mudborn?

a word had slipped past her teeth. 

of earth. the jester said, mouthline curved. born of hungry mother, wanting father. common as pebbles. don't bother. unimportant her paw dismissed the topic.

even if not leader you, she hopped atop the sheep, to be more level with his clearwater eyes. barn is below grown man. you tell that to chief, ja? tell chief, if nasty child can't learn respect, what of grown man?!

her maw in part open, enthused look in her eyes, one brow cocked with the other furrowed - looking for agreement.

until wool gave way under her meager mass, and she stumbler over to the other side of the kill.

He tilted an ear forward. My parents were not hungry nor was my father wanting. He said quietly. Though he supposed the leaders that had killed his parents for him had been such. Hungry for power, hungry for what his body could do for their ranks.

Before he could say yay, or nay she was over the side and stumbling. A small smirk curved his lips, but he moved to help her, blue eyes slightly dancing at her antics.

Are you alright?

she'd landed in a heap of jutting black limbs. for a moment, she were still. red eyes blinking.

then with wriggling movements she contorted herself back into shape of a wolf. 

jeg har det bra. she said, gathered her legs close, then began to peck away at unmarred half of mutton.

gjørmejeger hest heed advishe. spoken through a full maw ( she'd begun to stuff her cheeks ). shart advishe horth hore than hjørme.

She was all over the place, limbs and fur and strange gaze. What on earth. This wolf. He really didn't understand her.

She was eating again. He hoped she wouldn't make herself ill. The way she was eating. She must not have had anything for days. However, it also proved difficult to understand any of what she was saying. So he curled his tail around his paws again and kept watch.

thin slices. each disappeared into the black mouth. lips shut, her devouring was noiseless. 

when her face swelled, within the tongue began its work. dividing flesh into smallness, the wolfess swallowed as if choking.

( she'd found chunks preserved better within her belly, and made a more solid meal when later she was forced to regurgitate them, warm and slurry )

the last swallow, and she was empty-mawed. panting. thin body already rebelled against intrusion- nevermind it.

she turned to him with a lolling tongue. it swept broadly over her whiskers.

"gratitude, gjørmejeger." bright delight in her eyes.

This woman was a strange one and he wasn't sure how healthy she was honestly. The way she ate, was enough to alarm him, but who was he to judge.

You're welcome. He dipped his head. Half smile on his face.


He stretched and shifted. WOuld you like me to separate this for you to keep some somewhere for later, before I return with it to my pack?

eyes widened.

to be granted first a clink of coin within the empty bowl, and now the promise of more?

she nearly shone-

but no.

there was a trick in this, she saw. clear as the marrow was black. 

her head dipped. sharp caution swept over her features, then left a blank face.

the svart took steps backwards, tail lashing as unto a feline.

nei. she looked the mudman over, as if for the first time. we know the color maggots are.

her face cracked with a smile  ( it were a stained red ) . a subdued cackle quaked her frame.

maybe offer same to liar-child, mighty gjørmejeger. 

the cackle spilled out of her.

another few swift steps back, barely breathing, then she turned tail with a swing of bony hips, and made to run for the brief bit of woodland.