Emberflame Ridge Breath, should I take a deep?

He cut a dark shadow across the brightly lit stone of the ridge as he stole over its surface, bent nearly double to track scents across the ground. Evening would be falling soon and he would prefer to have a meal secured before then, but with no recent trails, it seemed he was out of luck. That was bound to happen sooner or later. The fact he was even still alive was mostly thanks to luck. That, and a hefty dose of his brother's help. Without Euron, who had other tasks to attend to and other aspirations for the moment, Ramsay had to learn to hunt properly on his own. He did all right for himself after months of working on it, but it wasn't easy. This was the white wolf's season, and a hunched creature as black as a crow's wing was greatly disadvantaged in the open.

With a deft shuffle of his limbs that would look unnatural on any well-proportioned wolf, Ramsay regained his full height and stood peering out over the willows beyond the ridge's sharp lip. His stunted tail quivered with interest as he stretched up on his front legs to sample the wind; there were many wolf scents on the breeze from the north. Perhaps he would begin there.

Calm as the willows were, she appreciated a chance to get away every once in a while, knowing that soon she would be tied to her territory, pups at her belly. Emberflame Ridge, with its beauty and sweet memories--not to mention close proximity to Elysium--was an ideal spot. She hiked upward, huffing only a little bit, her stomach churning with the effort.

It churned further as she spotted the hunched creature in the near distance, dark against the snow. Her nostrils flared; his scent said "wolf," but the look of him suggested otherwise. . .but then, what? With wary steps, she traveled forward, ears half-pressed against her head.

Hallo? Lily said after giving a chuff, brows drawing tight together. He was bigger than her and the same color, but it was clear he was different. Wrong, though she would have never said it aloud.

He was content to remain on the ridge for a while, collect his thoughts and plan out his next moves, but Fate had more immediate plans for Ramsay. He couldn't say he'd ever put much stock in the guidance of the daedra, but they had a funny way of delivering wolves to him when he was most bored. And he certainly was that today, plans and schemes aside.

His left ear swivelled toward Lily first, but Ramsay took his time actually turning to face her. When he did, it was with a disinterested air, swinging his whole body slowly around to compensate for his absent neck. His eyes were half-lidded as he regarded her and ruminated on her accent. An outsider to this place, perhaps. From what he remembered of Blackfeather's wolves, none had spoken quite like that. Another might find it intriguing, attractive even. If Ramsay felt any of those things, he kept it well hidden.

He watched her slim black figure climbing upward for two more heartbeats before, without warning, he threw his hunchbacked body at her in a silent charge with his lips skimmed menacingly back.

When he looked at her, the interaction seemed normal, even if he was not. Their eyes met. His were a beautiful shade of dark blue-purple, like the sky early in the evening. She took a breath.

And then things promptly went awry as he launched his stout form her way.

What the bloody hell?! Lily exclaimed, skittering backward and nearly tripping over herself in the process. Half-panting, she did everything in her power to get away--and then the nausea struck again. Wave after wave rolled over her, accompanied by dizziness. She lurched. Her vision spun.

Oh fuck, fuck, she gasped out. A gag rose in her throat and she choked it down, adrenaline-laced fear the only thing keeping her going as she searched for the shadow with eyes gone round with shock.

Wot the bloody 'ell! exclaimed the trim black woman as she flung herself back down the rise, trailed closely by the cannonball-with-legs that was Ramsay. He followed for about ten or fifteen long paces before he ground to an abrupt halt, sending pebbles skittering down toward the now-swearing Lily. He threw back his head (read: dropped his haunches and rolled back his shoulders so he could approximate throwing back his head) and cackled loudly, his short tail swaying merrily.

Are you frightened, little starling? the dwarf called out, fixing keen indigo eyes on Lily as she presumably kept running. He wasn't going to hurt her, but she didn't need to know that. It was enough to strike fear in the hearts of others. Euron always got his thrills from treading as near to death as he could get, but Ramsay's excitement was always roused by that glassy light in the eyes of a wolf who was terrified. Maybe only for a split second from being startled, or maybe petrified with deep-seated horror. No matter what sparked it, he relished the fear of others. Hurting them was a simpleton's joy. There are monsters in this world, and you must fear them all!

His laughter brought her skidding to a clumsy stop; it rang through her ears like the incessant chime of an alarm come too soon. Lily wheeled around, turning incredulous eyes upon him, his words barely registering through the fear-fueled rage that began to flood her body.

What the fuck is wrong with you?! she hollered, bristling, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. I'm pregnant, you deranged prick! I don't care what kind of monster you are--who the fuck thinks it's funny to frighten someone like that? Especially someone who's pregnant!

She fell silent, panting, panic rising over her once more as she knew he would surely retaliate against her retorts. Just try it, you mangled git, said the steely voice much deeper within her, from which her yelling had come.

Another gag assailed her, and she tasted vomit in her mouth.

He wasn't expecting the slim jet woman to turn around, but when she did, Ramsay mustered a toothsome wolf's grin that rivaled his grimace from earlier. She yelled at him and he let his ears plane to the sides and turned his face away with mock remorse. Though she was older than he, he treated Lily in a condescending fashion... perhaps because he thought she was less intelligent than he, or perhaps because he was larger. As a result, no amount of yelling at him would make Ramsay feel bad for how he'd treated Lily. On the contrary, he thought he was teaching her a very valuable lesson while getting his kicks at the same time.

You approached me, he pointed out in his smooth, detached voice, fixing her once more in his imperious vision. He whisked his lips over his teeth and let his face fall to something more serious. He hadn't known she was pregnant, though now that he looked more closely, the curve of her stomach was a little unnatural on her otherwise thin figure. Oh well. The lesson was the same either way. The babes in your belly deserve more than a witless dam, wouldn't you agree? Strangers can hurt you, little starling.

For once, she scowled at a grin aimed her way, knowing it to be insincere. I approached you to greet you, Lily snapped. We've strangers all over these parts, and none of them have acted like you, you little cretin. Don't call me that! she tacked on, not clarifying whether she referred to his use of "witless" or "little starling."

My babes will do just fine, she said coldly. Unlike you, she thought, but held it back. It wouldn't help matters, and it was unnecessarily mean. Still, she wondered what kind of creatures would have to reproduce to birth something like. . .like that.

Demons, no doubt. Tricksters and clowns from hell.

But sorry to bother you, Lily sniffed, lifting her muzzle in a show--albeit a shaky one--of austerity. He might be a monster, but she didn't have to be. Guess I'll be going, now. If he had nothing else to say, she would back off, keeping him within sight until she was near enough to the willows to feel secure again.

She had a lot of words. Ramsay had never been loquacious himself, often leaving the talking to Euron while supplying short answers in between. So he listened, both ears turned attentively toward Lily, to all she had to say before he chose his own words. He selected them slowly and deliberately, as he always did, while she finished her tirade about nice strangers and how she'd never met a little cretin like him or whatever it was she meant by it.

Oh, but little cretins like Ramsay were all over the world. She'd merely stumbled into a part of it that was strangely absent of them—which only bred naive creatures ripe for the taking.

Your babes will die, he concluded, and left it cryptically at that. It wasn't a threat, he couldn't care less about her or her offspring. More a prediction. If she taught them no caution and made them believe that all strangers would be kind if only you greeted them, they weren't long for the world. Maybe if they stayed only in this idyllic corner of it... One made their own terms, and Lily's were simply dangerous to pass off to younglings. But it was no business of his.

Farewell, little starling, Ramsay cooed with a smirk, returning to his quiet vigil to plan out a new course. The innocent nature of those nearby might be easily taken advantage of... but he had frightened her in a moment of weakness, seeking his own pleasure, and she wasn't likely to let him begin weaving a web here as a result of that.

Your babes will die.

It might have been the cruelest words ever spoken to her, and Lily froze in place, both infuriated and petrified by the curse. Her blood turned to ice; her stomach did flips. She was tempted to turn and let him have it again, for daring to threaten her womb. . .

But it wasn't worth it. Monsters never changed their tune, but she could turn the other cheek. Hopefully, she'd never see him again.

With a shudder, Lily carried on, headed with haste toward the willows. She told no one of the encounter. Instead, she traveled to her den, where she curled herself up in a ball, shaking. Nose pressed hard to her distended belly.

Your babes will die.