After fishing @Frolic out of her latest adventure (she seemed to crash into them rather the other way round), Dwin made sure that she was nice and dry and insisted on finding a den for them to rest for the night. There were some protests and arguments that she would have definitely lost at home, but out here she still had her ace card. They had a deal and Dwin had fulfilled her side of the bargain. 

Eventually they both fell asleep, each dreaming of different things. Dwin's sleep was restless - she kept waking up to check, if her younger sibling was still there. After all it was not all just the sense of responsibility coming from an older sibling. She also had given her parents promise to bring the little rascal back home safe and sound (despite her claiming of never ever returning home). Finally, she could no longer enter the dreamland. She carefully entangled herself from her still slumbering partner in crime and left the den to check out, what was going on outside. 

And good timing it was - she heard footsteps in the distance coming closer and closer, until a dark figure appeared and stopped to satiate its thirst. Dwin's body was frozen, while her gaze was fixated on the stranger, following his every move. 

Dwin was taken aback by the stranger's question, making her look around uneasily, as if the said princess would spring out of the bushes any moment now. When this did not happen, she exhaled in relief. "I am afraid I do not know, who are you referring to," she replied politely. She was aware that not all packs had the same structure as Brecheliant, where they had been running without an elected alpha for... what was it two, three months? If you counted the time, during which Bronco had been incapacitated. But still royalty to her seemed like something that belonged to fairy tales or very, very old times. Not nowadays. 

"Has something happened to her?" she asked, realizing that this was a very stupid question. Because if nothing had happened, then he would not be looking for her. "At least we - I - in our corner over at caldera have not caught sight of any child or wolf lost," again not very useful. Brecheliant was just a small pixel in the context of the big picture that the world was. 

Ever had a feeling as if you can literally feel someone else's life just happening right next to you, but you are locked out of it? Dwin felt exactly like that. The man did not throw words around easily, but the very few he said, the tone, how he said them and his general demeanor told that there was a whole lot going on than he was letting on. She furrowed her brow, selfishly not enjoying the idea that she was not at the center of the story and at the same time very curious to find out more. 

"Who is planning to harm her?" she asked. "Is it another hellcat wandering in the wilds? We had two packmates attacked and one of them died," she explained, turning her head to take notice of, whether Frolic was still, where she had left her. Faint, but familiar sound of breathing told her that she was. "Or is it a kidnapping thing with cannibalistic tendences and blood curse rituals involved?" after all you heard stories about all kinds of crazies running around in this world. 

For a moment there Dwin worried that this guy would assume that Brecheliant was dealing with the extreme and bloodthirsty cultish behavior and she was tempted to add that - no worries, their pack never engaged in this. But she did not say anything, because she was getting a sense that this guy might be a bit paranoid. Anything she would add on the matter would make him more suspicious of her than before. 

Then he mentioned gods talking to him and hint of understanding crossed Dwin's features, followed by sympathy and patience one offers to an insane and confounded person. She was not going to tease him or rebuke him - no, nothing like that. Crazy people had to be treated with kindness and politely. After all of them two he had the advantage in body mass and strength. 

"So, gods told you only of grave danger and did not mean anything specific at all?" she asked him. "Not time frame? Or... even a hint of, what that danger could be? From other people or the elements?" 

Not only was the man crazy, he had a twisted imagination and a cultish behaviour. Dwin felt both impressed and a bit worried at the same time. Up until this moment, she had heard about weirdos, but they had been just as real to her as unicorns. Imaginary characters, occasionally villains, more often - harmless idiots. This man was very real and could only be described as... as... potentially dangerous fool. He believed his fairy-tales and this - according to Dwin - was not right. 

"Why are you so sure that the gods gave you that message instead of something that your imagination cooked up during the early hours of the morning?" she asked curiously. "I have to admit that I am not a woman of faith and I do not judge anyone else, who have this special connection with the diving, except... if we are miniature reflections of, what gods are, wouldn't that mean that all our good traits and flaws are also multiplied to the extreme? What if the god of yours is wrong?" she asked, curious to hear his explanation. If he managed to pull forward good arguments, she would add to his three word description another one. Convincing. 

"Have you ever engaged in an idea that the very fact you believe in gods means that you have imagination?" Dwin challenged the man, not really hoping that he would begin to doubt his iron-clad conviction. Rather she wanted to see him prove her wrong. Even if he was completely mad, he could express his ideas quite logically. There was certain structure too. 

"Because a person without a creative spark at all - an awful creature I am sure - they would simply exist. Not plan, not look into the future. Not reflect about the past. Just eat, sleep and eventually die," she gave him a quizzical smile. "Dreams - as rare as they are to you - are also a proof that your imagination is working. If gods meddle with it, then..." she left the sentence hanging. 

"Are you a fearful person by nature?" she asked. "Meaning - do you get scared easily?" she went on. Dwin was not taunting him. Just curious.

When Dwin had been little, she had really liked that wolf-equivalent story of Peter Pan about wolf-pups, stolen by fairies and never growing up. Adult life then had seemed so god-awfully boring compared to the daily adventures she had in her own trench labyrinth right next to the rendezvou's site. Besides she had observed that adults did not know, how to play properly. With the same awe and gusto kids did. They tried, but you knew that they pretended. Thus - she had on multiple occasions declared that she will never want to grow up. 

Now, looking at this grown-up man, who was a mix of a tall-dark-mysterious stranger and malevolent beast, she realized, that he was an adult, who had never mentally grown up. Rather than facing reality and challenging myths and falsehoods with critical eye and thinking, he was interpreting fruits of his overactive imagination as messages of gods. Worse - he even thought that there were two souls inhabiting his mortal shell - his and that of his god's. While was a very unique specimen and Dwin felt glad that she had met him, she also knew that she would be even happier to see him off on his way. Soon. His twisted imagination repulsed her. 

But not yet, because in is delirious speech he had mentioned some really interesting ideas. Such as... "So, how do you steal a god? You lure it in," by dancing naked in the moonlight "And how do you welcome a god inside your body? Isn't it difficult? Because I sometimes feel that even my active mind is too big for my skin."

"Yeah, worship would not work for me - my knees are too stiff for me to crouch and bow in front of anyone," Dwin said with a sly glint in her eyes. She was tempted to add that as a goddess herself she was not meant to worship those made of the same tree, but she did not think that the man would welcome this truth well. He would rather think her mocking him. And - yes - she considered him crazy and short-sighted and incredibly naive, but if he was happy in this imaginary world of his that he had created, who was she to judge, right?

"What do you mean - worship them as yours? As yours what? Yourself, your family members? Your lover?" she paused to lean to the side and scratch her ear and shake her head two times. "And that ritual of yours - isn't it akin' to hunting a bit? You just outwit them and bound them to you? What if they do not want to be with you, huh? Is "free will" a concept of gods?" she asked.

"Well, life would be very dull, if I did not think a lot at all," Dwin shot back, feeling slightly insulted by the way he had said this. As if critical thinking, which was one of her most prized qualities, was a flaw or imperfection of sorts. "But I agree that my life would probably be a lot simpler, if I did not think so much and just..." followed, whatever moronic thought comes to my mind or someone else tells me! "...live, I guess. Thinking too much can slow you down." He could take it as a compliment, an insult or her admission of him being right. 

"But don't you think blindly worshipping them, no-questions-asked do-as-I-told-you kind of worshipping could endanger your livelihood? I mean, you are useful to gods as long as you are alive, aren't you? Since - I assume - your particular breed of gods do not have a solid corporeal form and therefore their opportunities to interact with the living are somewhat limited? Say - they can talk to you only," oh, god, well, that would be awful, wouldn't it. Talking to the only crazy person you have managed to make a connection with and they turn out to be... boring. Makes you feel sorry for them...

"What kind of ritual did you do to make them choose you? How did you convince that out of thousands of fellows, who have done the same ritual at some point, you were the best suited for the job?" she asked, genuinely curious. "Asking for a friend - you never know, how a godly interference may come handy for you!"

"Oh, I am so sorry. I have heard that it runs in the family," Dwin blurted out and facepalmed mentally, when she had spoken her mind without filters for the n-teenth time during this conversation. She had thought about, what a curse madness was and him mentioning others, who heard voices or considered themselves to be gods coincided. Him being him, he would probably disregard the first part of the sentence as someone not as smart as him (she had a feeling that them not having high opinion of one another was mutual). And as for the second - he could always correct her, if he chose to do so. 

"That was not the question. Why did Dreadfather choose you out of all the hundreds of equally worthy subjects to talk with?" she asked again. "Or they keep it a secret. Tell you that you are special?" which, in her opinion, was very appealing, if you had very low self-esteem, but could also lead to you being controlled and manipulated. 

Nope. Dwin's blunder had hit the man right in the face, because his expression changed. That scowl of his could burn her on the spot and leave a pile of ashes. At least it felt that way. She had not wished to insult him, despite her thinking that he was a bit unhinged. 

He admitted not knowing the reasons behind him being chosen by the Dreadfather and he appeared to be confused by the notion that he should have asked anything. Perhaps, this was truly the first time he had ever thought about this and Dwin allowed herself to feel a little bit of smugness for seeding that doubt in him. Even if he left and continued to follow wholeheartedly, that question would not go anywhere. Some thoughts are like that - you cannot get rid of them, no matter, how hard you try. 

"Well, it would not hurt to ask next time he speaks to you," she advised him. "After all, you have probably been a faithful and loyal servant for a long time, maybe you are the only one that the Dreadfather can communicate with effectively. I don't think that the question would change things between you, but honesty - I have heard - helps to deepen the connection," she told. Worked with people, there was no reason, why it should not work with gods either. 

"But then again - I am just a stranger, who tends to drown people in questions," she chuckled. "Maybe that is one of the reasons, why gods avoid me. I would never get any job done." 

"Silent treatment, huh?" Dwin drawled and rolled her eyes. "So like gods, don't you think?" a half-serious half-joking statement. From what Dwin had learned about gods of various backgrounds, they had some characteristics in common. Over-inflated idea of self-worth and childish wish to control everything. All or nothing. And if nothing - screw you, my loyal follower! I will either make your life miserable or will get rid of you completely. 

"Of course," Dwin nodded in agreement. "You have your princess to save. Good luck with that! See you," never again. She watched him leave. Despite her not liking him very much, she had had an entertaining half an hour or so. Had he appeared any less possessed, she might even have invited him to stop by at Brecheliant.