The Heartwood what a brilliant speech you gave

Intended for @Lucifer

Small paws take him through unfamiliar territory. It is Iseldur he searches for; his father, and yet the giant's scent is not found. An unfamiliar fear settles in his throat.

He has not been alone since the wolf found him. The sense of loneliness is unfamiliar, chilling.

A sound reaches twitching ears; ruffling leaves, paw steps. Cathal freezes with a sudden sense of panic.

A cougar, he guesses - or the return of the large bird whom father fought with not so long ago.

lucifer emerged from the shadows, his movements as fluid and silent as smoke drifting through the trees. his golden eyes gleamed like molten fire, locking onto the young wolf frozen in fear. the corners of his mouth twitched into a faint, wolfish smirk, equal parts amusement and menace.  

lost, are we? he drawled, his voice low and smooth, carrying a dangerous edge. he stepped closer, his sleek, dark coat blending seamlessly with the dappled shadows of the forest. you’ve wandered far, ragazzo, into places you don’t belong.

another step closer, his presence was suffocating as it was magnetic. fear doesn't suit you, pup, lucifer continued, circling the smaller wolf like a predator sizing up his prey. but it’s written all over you. the trembling paws, the wide eyes… his smirk deepened, revealing a flash of sharp teeth.

The source reaches him: a large wolf, about the size of Iseldur. The boy's fearful posture settles. A wolf will not eat him - that would just be strange.

The man speaks, his tone unlike that which belongs to the friendly faces he knows. He calls him 'pup', a term Cathal has grown used to. Eyes search the face of the other momentarily, curled tail beginning to wave relentlessly.

There is no reason to fear now! He decides, a grin on his face. You are no cougar, and now one will not come. His accented tone is hopeful, cheerful.

The spitz gestures behind him. Iseldur is behind. He expects that this wolf will help him find the other.

lucifer’s golden eyes narrowed as he watched the boy's fear melt away into reckless cheer, his tail wagging like a wind-tossed banner. the grin on cathal’s face was almost enough to draw a huff of amusement from lucifer—almost. instead, his expression remained unreadable, save for the faint arch of a brow.  

iseldur, you say? his voice was smooth but edged with something sharp, like the crackle of distant flames. he glanced in the direction the boy gestured, his ears flicking back briefly before returning to cathal. you speak as though i'm here to be your guide. tell me, piccolo lupo, why should i care where your iseldur is?

the boy’s grin faltered for only a moment, but it was enough to amuse lucifer. his smirk returned, this time laced with something darker. you’re too trusting, he continued, circling the boy with slow, measured steps. wolves like me are not the kindly saviors you seem to imagine. i'm not here to rescue you from your loneliness—or your naïveté.

lucifer paused, his sharp gaze locking onto cathal once more. but perhaps… i will help you, he said, his tone softening just enough to make the boy’s tail wag again. not because you deserve it, but because this forest is no place for a pup so easily mistaken for prey. consider it a kindness, ragazzo—a rare gift.

He watches the stranger with the wide eyes of a curious child - or a fool. What is there not to trust? A tilt of his head accompanies the question. You are canine, just as I. Should that not provide some sense of comradery?

We will go together, and Iseldur will reward your good deed. He bounces ahead through the snow, stopping to look back at the other. I am Cathal. Your name, what is it? He would need to know should they be traveling together even for a short time.

Cathal has always been amiable, and this wolf will be no exception - even if he is quite strange.

lucifer’s smirk widened slightly, though it was hard to tell if it was from amusement or disdain. the boy’s boundless energy and unshakable optimism were almost grating, like sunlight filtering through storm clouds. he followed at a leisurely pace, his long strides slicing through the snow without effort, his golden eyes fixed on the boy with an intensity that bordered on predatory.

you’re amusing, ragazzo. such a bright little flame you are, burning so eagerly in the frost. cathal's enthusiasm, however, was unshaken, and when the boy introduced himself and demanded a name in return, lucifer chuckled—a low, throaty sound that carried no warmth.

when he finally answered, his voice softened, but the edge remained. lucifer, he said, savoring the name as though it were part of some private joke.

he flicked his tail, his gaze following the boy as he bounded ahead. i’ll help you, Cathal, he said, his tone casual yet dripping with underlying amusement. perhaps then you can tell me about this strange land.

Lucifer. He repeats, clicking his tongue. Like the king of the underworld, yes? He had heard stories of such things, but did not pay close attention. A strong name! He proclaims, resuming his bounce.

However, he was not sure that there was much he could tell this man. He had not been here in the wilds for long either. There is not much to say. Many wolves, many packs. He muses, gaze drifting. Me and Iseldur look for somewhere to settle.

He certainly missed the warmth of a den, so he hoped that it would be soon.

lucifer's smirk lingered as he studied cathal, the boy's naivety almost infectious in its boundless optimism. strong name or not, it seems i’ve been roped into this little adventure of yours, he muttered, more to himself than to cathal. his eyes narrowed as they scanned the terrain ahead, the vast expanse of snow and trees offering little in the way of direction.  

iseldur, he began, the name rolling off his tongue like a curious riddle. if he’s your father, his scent should be stronger than most to you. think, ragazzo. where would he go? water? shelter? somewhere high to survey the land?

lucifer padded a few steps ahead, his nose lowering to the snow as he tested the air. the sharp, crisp scent of pine and frost filled his nostrils, but there was nothing distinct—no immediate trail to follow. he huffed, lifting his head and glancing back at the boy. we’ll need to circle outward, search for signs. tracks, fur, even the faintest scent. you can manage that, sì?

It was a good question. If he was @Iseldur, where would he be? He hums, considering this for a moment.

Now searching for scents, signs, and such? That was something he could do for certain. Years of living with far larger canines had made him an excellent scout; he could not do much against a herd of elk, but he could find them without the risk of startling the ungulates. A few yappy barks later, and it was the perfect ambush.

Yes! I can track! His eyes sparkle with his proclamation. Are you a tracker too, Lucifer?