Marruz had been silent as always. For the majority of his introduction to the Weald, the one factor he had most respected was its muted capacity. Life was everywhere but it was concealed in shadow, and that was just as it should be to him. 

The sun had banked low beneath the horizon now, so that when he looked up at the towering tree limbs above, he noticed the faint traces of stars beginning to cloak the midnight void beyond. In the darkness, black eye concealed by even blacker fur, his indigo eye glanced quickly around. And for the first time that day, his spidery appendages came to a hesitant halt. He reclined his head back and took of a drink of the chilly, swollen fog. 

That's when he noticed the scent of a newcomer. Had it not been for that single star, he might have been in such a mood as to pursue the stranger in hostile intent. But he was humbled by the vast skies and so, when he tracked the male to a nearby ravine, it was with as cordial a voice as he could muster that he interjected upon the scene. 

"Greetings," his voice was never kind; rough though ripened by youth. He cocked an eyebrow at the panting brute. "That hare did a number on you." 

Marruz's orbs glinted. Whatever emotion it was, however, did not breach his features. He stood stonily and grunted as the male before him visibly assessed his composition.

"Lucky for you there are more things to worry about here," his nose twitched impassively, despite the ominous words. As though such feelings had not transpired, he turned and tipped his crown towards the night sky. "Care to join me in a little stargazing?" 

The foreigner did not move to close the gap, and this did not bother Marruz. He would have done the same, after all, and he was pleased enough that the wolf would even linger. The sky was a deep hue this night, with stars that shone like minute buttons.

While curious about the stranger, the celestial palette before Marruz fought more for his attention. His indigo and ebony gaze traipsed across the yawning expanse, marred only by the occassional arm of surrounding trees. The night was clear and wonderfully hospitable to the eye. After a moment's pause, he stirred.

"Can you find Orion?" He quested, no less reticent. "This first month to the third is when he'll be most visible." 

Marruz nodded. He felt that he liked the wolf a tad more having found him to be receptive. He still kept his features stiff and dismissive.

"Look just below that last branch there," and he gestured with his snout for good measure. A particularly bright star flickered at the tip of a jutting branch. "You use Orion to keep your proportions straight. Just by seeing it, I know that Gemini is to the left and up."

He stared at the brilliance of the darkness; biding his time in the peace and serenity of the view. What he loved most was his insignificance beneath it.

"You're not a common stargazer, are you?" Marruz broke the silence with an obligatory tone. "Can you see the stars often from where you hail?" 

Marruz thought it odd how the stranger spoke of his 'mentor'. He cast a fleeting glance at the man and expelled a flair of smoky air. There was no sympathy or, really, anything at all in his dispassionate orbs. He looked every inch the son of his cryptic father. 

Marruz returned his sights to the heavens; expression indifferent in the sober moonlight. "That is Canus Major - the star just beneath Orion. It is a bit brighter," he murmured, entranced by the sight. "And if you look closely, it makes the appearance of a running wolf." 

His face pacified, and it was the closest the boy truly ever could be to a smile. "Look. To the right is a collection of stars" - he lifted a paw and tried to outline what he was referring to - "use your mind and you can see two, long ears. The wolf is in pursuit of a hare. Not unlike yourself, he never catches it." And he put emphasis on that final portion just to spite the fellow adjacent him, and also to appease the ill feeling he had obtained.

Marruz's ear flicked at the male's words. Being in good spirits from the starry presence, however, the boy was willing to let the first retort that came to his mind dissolve on his lips. Instead, he shifted and resumed his phlegmatic disposition; tenebrous pelt shimmering an odd, crepuscular blue.

When he was satisfied that the stranger was well aware of the ineffectual impact of what he said, Marruz shrugged. "I taught myself," he replied flatly. "And I would consider my 'way with words' to be far from lovely." And while his second statement was true, the former was only half a shroud, for in reality it had been his mother who had first shown him the secrets of the dark.

Marruz was not used to such cordiality. He cast his indigo gaze skeptically at the brute and traced the velvety stains encircling his nape. His tail flicked uncertainly; quietly rustling at the crisp undergrowth of the forest floor. 

For a moment he wasn't sure how to respond. He hated this. Everything about the situation was uncomfortable and so very unfamiliar. So, he kept his mouth shut for the longest time possible. Not an inch of his emotions leaked, but for the furrowing of his brow in minute pace atop his unwavering orbs. He stared hard at the moon and the belt of Orion, imagining that time had only skipped in heartbeats and he was just a couple of moons old. Imagined that this deferential wolf beside him was the wolf that sent him here. Imagined that he did not tremor.

"I know," Marruz finally muttered, scrunching his nose as though he detested the flavor of the statement. He then stood and shook out his Stygian pelt, stretching willowy pegs with decided grain. When he was content, he drew himself to his full height and faced the male in that laconic manner of his. He blinked and curtly dipped his head, gritting his teeth as he did so and not entirely certain why he felt obliged to do it at all. 

"You're welcome," he grunted. "I'm surprised you digested all of that... I would have thought the hare more apt for the job." And this was the closest the boy had come to a compliment in his short expanse of sunrises.

Marruz stood and stonily pinned his gaze toward the heavens, where the moon had shifted only slightly in its journey across the sky. His tail swayed ambiently in that odd way seen in small streams occluded by rocks, in which motion and quiescence aligned. For such a runner as he, the boy opted for little movement when in the presence of an audience. It was better that way...

When the wolf spoke, he stood especially still. And even when the man closed the distance, little by little, between them, he only blinked the indigo and moved the black eye. That was all he was willing to do. This wolf was scaring him, and he hated anything that frightened him; for there was little in the world that could do it anymore. 

The stranger spoke those final words and Marruz's heart was beating twice as fast as ever a run had cost him. He wanted to turn and face this foreigner - face this man that so reminded him of things he had lost. But to do so would be to lift the sky from his shoulders. 

The boy only lowered his head when he heard retreating pawsteps; exhaling in one, leaden sigh the air of the frightened. He sat panting in the moonlight, bewildered and full of rage at his own insolence. This was betrayal by any definition. And yet he remained in the clearing for quite some time after, staring at his paws. And when the sunlight poked its way through the towering trees, he wondered whether he might ever see the wolf again.

The world liked satire, it seemed, for Marruz. For when he finally stood, his ears perked at the rustle of foliage a few paces away. To his dismay, the hare emerged. And this time, it was not so fortunate.