Sleep had claimed him quickly, but it was not a fitful sleep in any way. Sylvaine woke with a start and was on his feet in the next instant, filled with the terror of his nightmares; he ran despite the still-present ache in his paws. He ran through the dark with sleep still clinging to his mind, the shadows of the trees becoming phantasms. Not even the stars were there to guide him - the clouds obscured all light, making Sylvaine think he was running through a void. As if the dream had not ended, and his pursuers were still so close.

With his red-rimmed gaze directed towards the next obstacle which dragged by him, Sylvaine completely overlooked the little fox - blind to it, until its voice rose to a boisterous level. As soon as the sound hit him he was careening out of control, stumbling against the twisting roots of a nearby tree and collapsing in to a bush, like a drunk driver. With a moan emanating from the bush, it seemed as if the pale boy wasn't going to rise... But he did. Slowly.

And when he slid his face out from the dark, not only was the bridge of his nose scratched up from his entry, but the sleek fur of his cheeks and scruff were no longer groomed - a mess of tangled vegetation had netted itself between the fine hairs. He was groggy from the sleepy wandering as well as the fall. Mazarin? Était-ce vous, monsieur? A prince who was prone to sleep walking? How perfect!

His words were met by a voice he did not know, and as the bleary-eyed youth recovered from his spill in to the bushes, he was set upon by a great sorrow. It was not Mazarin, but a tiny beast - vermin-kind - which he had never seen before. At least, alive. Many pelts adorned the royal caverns of his mountain kingdom, some of which holding the same ruddy tones as this petit renard. While any other wolf of his kingdom would lash out upon the tiny thing, perhaps to bring it's body to the queen mother as a gift, not even the thought of violence placed itself within Sylvaine's own mind.

He stood and with some care, began to pull twigs out of the areas he could reach; it was an arduous task which he grew quickly bored of. My serviteurs, oh, how I miss them.. The boy drawled sleepily, and gave himself a tiny shake. A few twigs dislodged, but he remained in an unkempt state. Little renard, you confused me. He sounded perturbed, his voice enunciating the common tongue without difficulty - although he held quite an accent still. Run along then, before I summon a guard. Had he already forgotten? this was not his kingdom - but old habits were hard to forget.

Strangely enough, the fox did not obey his command, but openly questioned him instead. Sylvaine was a bit put off by this; however, the question itself curbed his balking. I - ah, no. No I am not. It came as a surprise to the prince that he wasn't the one in charge. But it was an important realization - even though he probably should've just said yes in order to get the fox to listen to him. Whether he was the alpha or not, though, Sylvaine was larger than her and she was a clear menace. Upon the mountain where his mother ruled, there would have been zero conversation between the vermin and any wolf.

But it really does not matter. You must leave - I will summon someone to deal with you if you do not comply. As he made this remark, the boy looked about the forest as if to find a wandering servant or some such thing; he still expected to find a piece of his entourage close at hand, even though he had become so distant from his home. When he saw nobody, Sylvaine became a bit flustered. If he had the ability, his cheeks would have flushed a vibrant pink. Go on, shoo!

Mazarin had been training him to lead as the head of the kingdom - and yet this little disturbance countered every command he doled out, leaving him to grow further flustered. She had a point, but Sylvaine wasn't about to accept that fact. His eyes grew wide and then his brow furrowed, his face pinching with stern rigidity. Well, because... I.. You... So much for his elocution lessons. You're a fox! This land behind me is owned by wolves, so naturally, you should not be here. Yes, that was it. She was essentially prey; a little nuisance who would go diving through the borders in search of food that wasn't her's. He was only trying to protect his pack - but with a bit of grace and dignity, through words and not action.

Clearly this wasn't going to work out. The boy huffed softly to himself, casting a brief look upon the red-coated vulpine creature, and began to stride away from her. He looked for the path that had led him here, but seeing as he had traveled in a half-sleep, he recognized nothing. Ire and concern rose in him next, for he felt lost in this strange new place. How could he, the prince of the Black Mountain, be so utterly hopeless at his own survival? He was lost - again!