It was a surprise even to her, but Fennec actually found her fight.
On the other side of the mountain she’d just found more stone pathways leading up to new and different heights. She’d climbed and scaled until she reached a boundary she couldn’t cross - a ledge that seemed to drop into nothing. Traveling along this, she’d come across another wolf, one with a kill they’d seemingly taken down shortly before.
She didn’t even want the food. It was cruel of her to chase them from it, to even try attacking them for it, but she needed to fight something and the wolf hadn’t wanted to leave it behind. She’d attacked without hesitation the instant she recognized where they were and, with the advantage of surprise, had gotten them off their paws early. After that the fight was hers.
She’d sent it running and the air was still heavy with the scent of blood. Fennec had spilled more of theirs, but she doubted they’d die. Probably just hide and nurse their wounds somewhere. She sat next to the kill and ran her tongue over her muzzle, feeling the roughness of where the other wolf’s claws had torn at it. The bleeding had already stopped, just like the couple of bite marks she’d earned.
It was almost too short and easy. Fennec frowned and thought about just leaving the kill to the birds, but then stood and picked up a leg to begin dragging it back towards the Moonspear. It was on the small side, a young mountain goat, but even what was left could feed a couple. Might as well.
She wished they’d put up more of a fight.
the isle was fine enough, but colt was hardly built to stay there day in and day out. taking himself off with some pretense at hunting, he'd murmured to
@Sadey that he was going to look for marston and lonesome, back where they'd first come into the hinterlands.
he'd be gone a day and some change; elated, briggs headed off at a trot, heaving a sigh as the packland faded behind him. he weren't no settler. the wild places and wild air did him well.
rustling up a meal of quail to start, colt rested and then began to track a couple of elk across the plateau.
but they veered into the bog, and so he snorted, passing through the copse. this close to the mountainline, he could smell the goats.
it was with ease he climbed into the narrow crags, and it was with alacrity that colt attended the scent of blood. wolf'sblood, to be exact, mingled twice with the smell of freshkill.
he saw her then, the spitfire blonde, scuffed up a little and dragging a goat behind her.
had it been anyone else, colt might have seen about helping himself. were it another time, and he unattached to a pack, he would have taken it anyway.
but they both smelled of many wolves now, a fact he disliked. and so briggs only flicked his tail and drawled her way,
"yew bleed enough fer that?"
It was the rough voice of the man who’d refused her deal before. Fennec didn’t think highly of those who threw away the chance, but seeing as she hardly practiced anymore, it was hard to get too offended by it. She was finding it harder and harder, in general, to get offended on her own behalf. Just call it karma and leave it there.
She could now count on one paw the wolves who really cared where she ended up. She was owed nothing.
Not nearly,
she replied tersely, tone more annoyed at that fact than with him. Wolf who had it was a coward. He bled plenty.
In those words was a silent warning. She could say the same of him, if he tried it, though it was partially a bluff. She wouldn’t have surprise on her side if Colt tried his own luck with her.
"cowards deserve t'starve," colt said, though he backed a few extra noisy steps away, just in case that hard look in her eyes was meant for him. there was no impetus for him to rob someone he knew. stupid, and involved two packs besides. there was, however, impetus in his curiosity, and ho she carried scents from places he didn't know.
"could give yew a hand w'that, if'n yew want." his tone suggested he could care less. "was jest out an' about tryin' t'move about in this horse piss weather." if there was a time for the snip of a lighter and a satisfied exhale of cigarette smoke, it would be now.
She didn’t give his first comment the merit of a response. He spoke as if they were friendly but he’d made it pretty clear least time exactly what she was worth. Not a damn thing.
I don’t need your help. Didn’t need it last time, either, and I remember you don’t make deals.
She replied curtly before picking it back up and continuing her trek. He probably thought he could take it and run off without her being able to follow. She could hear well enough - she’d be near his throat before he could move out of range if he attempted it. Her aim didn’t need to be perfect.
"well, situations have changed," colt drawled, following on though making no indication he meant to take her kill. "come on. i was — wrong, las' time." he surrendered with a step back. "i'm with the isle pack now. how about, hear me out, yew let me do yew one instead."
fuck, was this how reno made allies? colt hated it, but he liked the look of her, how she yielded nothing. they were the type a gang could run with, and briggs passed up no testing.
She didn’t trust him, but it would take her forever to get this back herself. Fennec didn’t know what kind of a favor he was offering, but she knew if he pulled anything she was more than capable of handling it. In fact, she might welcome more of a fight than she’d gotten.
Fine. But fair warning - I’m blind, not stupid, and that first bit doesn’t mean I can’t do a hell of a lot of damage when I want to. You try anything and I’ll find out if you’re as big a coward as they were.
She placed a paw possessively on the kill. If he actually helped, maybe she’d be nice enough to let him take some of it.
Maybe not. Depended on how she felt, really, and how deep he stuck his foot in it this time. Her patience was fickle today.
"i believe yew, hell, woman," colt shot back, but the heaviness of his next step was meant for her ears. "no cause t'beef with yew now. i'm part of a pack proper."
he grabbed for the thing's hide and hauled it some feet, pausing to adjust and roll his shoulders. "how's the other guy look?" colt asked, implying the one she had fought for this carcass.
Fennec let her expression go to exasperation. She knew exactly what he meant but it was just so easy. How the fuck would I know?
she asked pointedly, then let out an amused exhale. Let him chew on that a moment.
Not nearly bad enough to justify running.
She relented, the disappointment clear in her tone. Not nearly a proper fight, though she should probably consider herself lucky to have found one at all. Favors and packs. What, did you make a deal, claim some poor sod’s soul, and now your stuck living a halfway decent life?
She didn’t know much about him, but from the way he worded it (and the little she did know) both of these things seemed outliers in whatever journey brought him here. He seemed more the type to cheat someone like her than help them, unless he saw something to gain here that she didn’t yet. She was still attempting to sort that out.
"ha!" briggs hooted, having blundered right into it. the man took the jest in stride all the same, appreciating the sardonic wit of the wildfire blonde. "i ran with a gang not too long ago. we split up, but my old ridin' mate's still with me. she's injured. never really healed."
colt paused to spit birch juice and blood onto the ground. "guess yew could say i bartered my freedom fer her to stay, cuz she weren't stayin' put if i wasn't."
colt snickered. "my devilish heart ain't cut out for it, ma'am."
Loyalty, even. Careful, you might even give someone the impression you’re honest.
Fennec gave a small skeptical noise, but it rang with amusement rather than annoyance. Me, though - I didn’t need to see any fortune to see through that.
Despite being skeptical of his help, she felt more at ease around him than she had most of the men of Mereo. He was undoubtedly a two-timing scoundrel but at least he didn’t pretend not to be. What she heard was what she got with this one. In a way they were kindred spirits, and if Fennec didn’t have a family she actually cared to stick with now, she might have been tempted to follow him wherever he and this friend intended to go. A few years ago, but certainly not now. He intrigued her, but not enough to throw Killer to the wayside.
You ever find anything it was cut out for?
She challenged, curious. Her guess was no, especially if he was anything like her, but maybe he’d found some secret that had eluded her so far.
"raidin', mostly. good fer hittin' a settlement hard, takin' what we want, even holdin' it a bit. real good in a fight," colt grinned, knowing she'd hear the smile even if she couldn't see it. "but we got that in common."
he fell quiet to tug the kill some more feet, pacing himself as the terrain shifted and he had to lean back a little to keep from toppling both he and the animal.
"good fer killin', too." that was said with a more sober tone, as colt wiped moisture from his forehead and glanced at the woman. he wanted to know her name, but he'd been such a shithead before that briggs knew better than to ask.
So you’re a criminal. No wonder you didn’t want me to tell you your fortune. You aren’t making many friends with that skill set.
Their talk was broken up by the carrying, but the kill was heavy, and each time they re-adjusted was a chance for more words. Normally she’d have taken the opportunity to hold the silence and remain frostily closed off, but something in those words actually appealed to her.
They were somewhat of kindred spirits, if you considered it. Even with her healing skills, and the things she’d learned, her most effective use so far had been in ending lives. Not saving them. She didn’t even have the good grace to feel bad about that fact.
Witches and raiders aren’t all that different. But when I deal in death, I give the tools to the one who wants the job done. It’s cleaner that way.
It wasn’t an admission, but depending on what he knew, it could be more than she should have said. Something told her, however, that this man wouldn’t find much to appreciate in Akashingo.
Cleaner, maybe, but no better at making friends. She’d keep that to herself. He didn’t need to know all of the ways she might relate.
colt snickered a little. "criminal?" he exclaimed with greatly exaggerated indignation. "i prefer to say solo associate." little joke; he chuckled at his own wit a little longer before letting the laugh trail away into a sigh. "don't need many friends, an' don't rightly know much about witches," he admitted in a grunt.
scattered stories, here and there. women who lived in bogs that shifted when you weren't looking, or forest clearings that changed and kept you lost until exposure stole your life. or the vernacular of witch used to describe when a former bedfellow turned on you after her husband found out about ya'lls little liaison, and ratted you right out in hopes he'd kill you dead and therefore leave no evidence she'd ever been unfaithful.
very specific.
colt didn't share this fun tidbit. "how often yew dealt in death?" he asked more soberly of his companion. witches knew things. all kinds of things. things worth trading for, but dying for? killing for? well. he aimed to find out.
Solo associate. Fennec made a clearly skeptical sound but didn’t vocally argue the point with him. Maybe that shit actually did work for him, but when she used to claim all that, it had one hundred percent been a lie. She’d learned the hard way that she did not do well if she didn’t have anyone to rely on.
A number of times.
Her smile went somewhat secretive as she considered what she might tell him without giving away the game entirely. But never one I’d met, even in passing. I’ve got limits on who I’ll deal it to, but there’s some crimes a wolf needs to answer for.
A thief of children and a holder of captives. Neither of them affected her sleep at night, that much was clear.
So if you’re ever wanting my services, you’d need payment and a good reason. Death isn’t cheap.
She knew he’d already understand that. He didn’t seem the type to hire out on a job he didn’t want to do either, but that sense could be wrong. He was a hard man to pin down.
so. she was a mercenary of her own kind, selling death secrets and washing her hands of what came next. the idea of paying her for anything piqued colt. her inner thoughts were right: he would rather wring a neck than hire out the job to be done badly.
but doing things yourself had a way of painting your face on every wanted poster under many tongues.
colt thought of the sunspire, of the woman who'd patched him.
of the creek.
the scarlet eyes leapt. "what sorts'o things yew after?" he asked in the same shared tone, now fully interested despite his natural wariness.
She wasn’t expecting him to ask for more information. It caught her off guard, both because it showed he had unexpected sides and because she wasn’t sure how to answer. A number of things flashed through her mind, a couple that she knew Penn really wouldn’t like. She didn’t quite have the decency to be ashamed about it, though; the idea of making him jealous was almost worth mentioning it, but she would behave.
For now.
Used to be food. In a pack, that’s less valuable.
Anything easier to come by naturally lost it’s value. So now, secrets. Information that’s worth having and that not many know.
She wondered what he’d make of that.
food was always valuable, if you asked colt. but she wasn't asking, she was telling him. secrets. information. the cowboy gave a low whistle of approval, as much for her demand as it was to know she could commandeer a lot for him if she knew who he was and how to trade his location to the right folks.
death then, colt was looking in the eye.
"secrets about men? about land?" he was hooked, good and surely.
She smirked around the haul in her mouth as he whistled, unable to deny that he was growing on her. A few years ago she would have said fuck it in a heartbeat and followed him just to take the inevitable ride that shit had to be. Now she could only wistfully look back and recognize that her life had gotten a hell of a lot more complicated.
Doesn’t matter. I don’t care what the secret’s about so long as it’s valuable to someone. That’s what makes it valuable to me, and who knows when a secret will come in handy down the line.
She carried quite a few, but none of them had been gotten by trade.
Personally I prefer to collect and keep them. Because as soon as I let one slip, it becomes worthless.
And it was so much more fun to hold onto those things than the temptation for blackmail had ever been.
"ain't that the blame truth," colt swore. he used these last minutes to drag the corpse in silence, down, down, until the land truly flattened and the rocky spread of ground gave way to gently waving grasses. a place to settle.
"yew know, i'm settled up in th'hinterlands fer now." honesty, rasping in his throat. "but it ain't home. i'm made to roam, not settle fer too long. th'gang takes what it wants. hard hit, then run. ain't no pack life, but i don't aim t'stay beholden to no one, not ferever."
the offer of a place, colt having given his measure in admiration of her own.