Noctisardor Bypass Will you chase the burning sun in to the sea.
seraphs sob at vermin fangs
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I hope this wrench is OK, tell me if I need to change anything @Anselm.

Heda's girls had gone.

Glaukos had not been minding them; they were not his to watch over even if he had been labelled the Den Father of this place. Glaukos had taken notice in the way Druid would roam to visit Fiona more frequently, which they were doing now, and he also witnessed something in Heda breaking each time this happened—and maybe it wasn't related, but to the man there was no other reasoning behind it.

For this reason Glaukos knew he needed to help Heda. If he could keep Heda healthy, then she could fix Druid. The end goal was the same in every plan he held: keep Etienne for Druid's sickness, keep Fiona for her mind, keep her sister for her heart. Therefore if he could not fix whatever ailed Heda now, he would lose a part of Druid in the long-run. That was all that mattered.

It was with this in mind that Glaukos sought out the hiding place of Etienne, as he figured @Anselm would not be too far. He stalked the territory until he found signs of the fool, and instead of avoiding all contact with him this time, he reached out as they passed one-another and grabbed for him, slamming him down in place. Pent-up frustrations fueled this—the anger of having his laws questioned repeatedly, the previous presence of Suzu, the obvious refusals by Anselm in the past.

Now he would pin the man to the nearest tree, or the closest patch of dirt. He did it without warning; but he did not draw blood, knowing how to hold a man without proof of injury. It was as much about Glaukos' strength of will as it was his position of power within Rivenwood.

Beyond that, it was about Druid.

Through a grimace of teeth and his own panting from the exertion of holding Anselm in place, Glaukos commands: Heda's daughters, they're not here. You will go and hunt for them. This was not a request. The boy would find the twin girls and return them here, to Rivenwood, whether it was their desire or not. You will do this, or I will hurt him again. This was no idle threat—the healer had proven to be a useful tool so far, but with each passing day it was clear that Fiona was of infinitely more value.

His grip tightened, and Glaukos glared down at Anselm now with an unbridled fury he was trying very, very hard not to give in to. He did not need a yes or a no, only acceptance, and he waited there for such confirmation that he was understood.
Saatsine
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#2
He'd seen him pass by, of course -- how could one not -- but in the next instant, Anselm was seized and slammed into the ground. 
His breath left him in a forceful exhale.

For one dizzying second Anselm only saw the canopy of trees overhead, the glare of a mercilessly bright sky -- and then his eyes adjusted, his senses came to, and he realized he was pinned to the ground by the fucking Mountain.

His eyes widened in fury. That he'd been attacked while his back was turned was insult enough, but over a small request that he would have done without thought if given the opportunity to be asked! As the blood pounded into his ears, so did a rage so vile it clouded his senses and stung the edges of his tongue.

The last bit of goodwill he had for Glaukos -- and by extension, Rivenwood -- drained away as the threat on Etienne's life left the behemoth's lips. Anselm grew still, his face darkening with ugly emotion.

He knew what must be done. Fine. The tracker relented, watching the bounding pulse in Glaukos' throat as he waited to be released.
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#3
It should have been enough.

It should have been enough without this, but Glaukos knew what kind of person Anselm was.

As soon as he was released, he'd be gone. He'd either be doing the work and bringing the girls home, or he'd be running for the hills—and Glaukos had an idea of which he would be choosing, which only reinforced when he heard the boy say, fine.

His grip briefly tightened. No, not fine. The boy was an idiot. He couldn't be trusted for anything, except maybe this. If he knew what was good for him, he would have fled after their initial fight but it was clear by now that Anselm stuck around for one reason. He didn't know what was good for him—he barely comprehended his own worthlessness, and threw in his fate with Etienne. So Glaukos could weild that connection against him to get what he wanted.

No, not fine.

Yes sir. He loosened enough for the boy to take a breath, to spit the words back if that's what he was capable of; then, and only then, would Glaukos let him stand again.
Saatsine
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No, not fine. Glaukos' simmering gaze pressed close, the feel of his fangs along Anselm's crawling flesh.

He wants me to beg, Anselm realized. His fur rippled with disgust. He'd come here to help Etienne, who was helping Heda and Druid. He'd brought Fiona to Rivenwood, and hunted for them all. For all he'd done, he was treated like the dirt beneath their feet.

Not fine, indeed. Anselm flung forward with a sudden heave, shoving the brute and his rancid breath backwards. As Glaukos regained his footing, the tracker lunged for his throat. There was a sinister squelch as Anselm's fangs pierced subcutaneous tissue down into the stiff fascia of the windpipe -- a gurgle as the behemoth's mouth filled with a wellspring of lifeblood that seeped between his lips in red bubbles.

Anselm stepped back, shaking as he watched blood pour from the shocked mouth of the Den Father.

What have I done?

Glaukos' throat worked, but no noise came out save the flood of merlot staining his chest. His dark paws splattered in red.

Yes, sir. Anselm blinked, transported back into reality where he was still captive between Glaukos' teeth. His shoulderblades dug into the dirt. Glaukos held him firmly in the pinestraw. Somewhere above, a bluejay sent harsh trills into the wildwood.

Yes, sir. Anselm's jaws clicked shut in contempt, a wicked anger made incubus in his belly.
seraphs sob at vermin fangs
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Good; the boy understood his place, finally. If Glaukos had it his way, and if he didn't give a shit about Druid's opinion, this drain on his resources would be dead already. He knew he couldn't go through with his real threat for as long as Druid forbade it; but he could do this, and he reveled in the power that could be eked from such shows of force.

The boy would be out of Rivenwood from this point on and that would be a blessing, too. Fiona would pick up the slack made by the missing body; caches would be filled, Etienne would do his work without distraction, and Glaukos would continue to be the protector he was meant to be.

Anselm's acceptance earned his freedom. Glaukos released him, pulling at first and then pushing at the last second, so that when the boy was released he might be set off-balance; he was angry, and Glaukos didn't care for it, but it was safer this way. As Glaukos stood at his full height he braced for whatever came next—as the boy was a proven fool, even if he was making a show of obedience for the moment.

Glaukos was ready for anything.
Saatsine
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Anselm coiled under Glaukos like a viper, waiting -- every muscle readied in the predatory providence of his kind. As soon as Glaukos released him, he'd make his move.

He never expected the push. The man's gravid force shoved him aside and he nearly toppled back over. It was enough that the moment was lost, and his opportunity withered away along with it.

Anselm had no intention of forgiveness as he put distance between himself and the beast. He shook out his bladed ruff, splay legged and reeling with choking fury. Go  -- He drew his gaze to Glaukos slowly, citrine eyes hard with hate. and I cannot stress this enough -- damn, was Glaukos tall as shit: fuck yourself. Fuck all of you.

It was stupid to open his mouth. It was even more stupid to stay within strike range. Anselm had already lost his pride in this exchange, what was one hit more? He tensed and then darted into a lope away, prepared to be chased if it came to it.
seraphs sob at vermin fangs
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#7
The moment the boy was on his feet, Glaukos was tense and ready.

The second those eyes aligned with his own, full of defiance, hatred, and every emotion that was so far away from respect, he was flashing his teeth, already beginning to lunge.

The boy was smaller and as a result, faster. He was filled with adrenaline and had probably had enough time to plot a course away, or to think of a point of egress for when he was released. In that same vein Glaukos wasn't exactly surprised by the way Anselm threw his insults back, or tried to run.

Glaukos charged after him and could have closed that distance, he could have grabbed at his sorry ass and thrown him back in to the dirt where he belonged, to beat the fear of Heda's god in to him. He could have finally taken that hide and presented it to Druid with a plausible reason to support the decision, and maybe that would have proven something to her that was otherwise lacking.

Nobody thought Glaukos was good enough for his place here in Rivenwood, and he knew that. He heard the way they called him guard-dog as he moved for his patrols; he saw the way they looked at him when he visited his own children; the way they all cleared out as soon as his eye was turned away. This wasn't respect, this was fear and hatred.

If that was all his work could earn him, he'd take it.

The boy ran; Glaukos charged after him until the mouth of the bypass presented itself, and when he knew Anselm had been driven out he rounded back to his land, his women, and his children to continue with the work that must be done.
Saatsine
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Anselm ran, his life in his throat. The thudding steps to his rear told him Glaukos was not far behind.

He expected the man would give chase -- but as he ran, he realized the bulldog was driving towards his appointed destination, outside of Rivenwood. He choked back a bitter laugh. Fine, two can play that game.

Anselm's strides lengthened. He did not have the enviable strength of the beast, but he had speed and stamina. He ran until he was certain Glaukos had given up.

He was outside of the border walls now. A crystal clear clarity settled over him as he rested beyond the granite slabs demarking the bypass' entry, tongue lolling as he waited for night to fall.