Broken Antler Fen when we drive

Down from the mountains and into the fen, the long-legged brown wolf ran loftily into the fields of grass with his fur tousled in the wind. Every now and again his paws would dip into one of the many puddles of water littering the wetland and he'd brace it intentionally upon his next landing, a soft smirk on his face as water sprayed around his darkened paws before continuing on. 

Finally approaching a bough of trees he decelerated, tongue lolling out as he caught his breath in the shadow of a nearby cedar. He'd merely take a moment to rest, gazing around to take in his surroundings... When he was sure another wasn't near at least at the moment, he'd leap back into a sprint as if spiders had tickled his legs. A rush of energy sent him weaving through the trees, challenging himself to dodge every obstacle he came across whether be in the form of a crooked log, a stretch of water, or an outcropping.

The man felt reinvigorated by his days here thus far, the Goddess of Autumn had been kind to him since his arrival. He'd not take a moment for granted in her stead, reveling in this newfound vitality however temporary it may or may not be. For it, he was thankful, even when he felt his momentum slow again and his gait slackened to a leisurely lope. No shame under his pelt though, after all a nice rollick every once in a blue moon was more than enough to keep him entertained for a long while after.

Three days.

Three sunrises spent following the pull of something only they could feel, a disruption in the universe. Where it was, Mephistopheles couldn't tell, but they knew the scent of unrest. That odious and sulphuric flavor of corruption that they could taste on their tongue. Gods, it burned.

In their wandering, they had caught lingering scents of other wolves but not run into any just yet. Or perhaps they just hadn't noticed in their determination to find what had kept pulling them forward. As it was, they were no longer alone. Ahead of them a brown furred wolf was standing, panting as though they had just raced the-thing-that-follows-aside. Maybe they had met it, gods knew that Mephisto had been chased by the shadowy being many times in their younger days.

Ah, the nights where it kept pace alongside them as they ran back to their families den, always at the same pace only to disappear if they looked too closely. Less now, they saw it.

Raising their voice, Mephistopheles called out to the stranger, "You seem to be weary, stranger! Are you well?"

The hackles along his spine rose as quickly as the voice called out to him. The dark wolf now clear in his view may as well have sprung up out of the earth, with how much they'd caught Henryk off guard. That's what you get for not paying attention, Hen... He heard a familiar voice within him chide playfully, the silent sound of which now made him even more unsettled. But that wasn't the stranger's fault by any means, they'd merely appeared unexpectedly to the earthen wolf, and seemed to be generally concerned.

Closing his maw and relaxing, Henryk called back. I'm fine! Just ah... Exercising It wasn't completely untrue, and seemed like a better excuse than... Simply having the zoomies. Sorry. Came his apology in regard to his initial demeanor. I guess I didn't see you walk up.

Mephisto either did not notice the startlement they caused or did not comment upon it as they stepped closer, taking in the scent of the other wolf.

There was no corruption that they could smell, but often it went further than the skin, deep into the meat and into the organs. It was not this creature that they were seeking, not yet at least. Given time and a malevolent force, who knew what fate held in store.

"That is quite alright, this visitant simply thought you were..." Mephistopheles flexed their toes into the ground, dragging their claws through the turf in thought. "Being pursued by some fell thing."

The art of sniffing out the strange and unseen was not something that every soul had the ability to do, in fact it was rather rare. The lure that was tugging them along was a strong one, stronger than they had felt in a long time. Surely if the force was so powerful, even the less sensitive among the populace would be able to tell something was off.

"Tell me, unfamiliar, have you sensed anything amiss in this area? Strange shadows or whispers of what is not there?"

The man's dark head tilted to the side. Some fell thing..? He was none too sure what the other meant by that, but he was sure that he wasn't being pursued at the moment. The other wolf's further question didn't offer him any explanation either- his confusion present on his expression even if only by his subtly furrowing brows.

Ah... I don't think so. I'm new around these parts but as far as I can tell things seem... Fine?

He didn't feel like that answer was very helpful on his end, though. Cleary this wolf had a reason behind his pressing, and for all he knew the other could be more knowledgeable around these parts. I'm sorry, are you... Looking for someone?

Oh, to be ignorant of the things that stalked the lands. Mephistopheles truly felt for the stranger, so wrapped in his ignorant bliss.

They were on the hunt, yes. Not for someone but something. This bark furred sprinter was likely to not be of much help, but they at the very least deserved to know that something was amiss in these lands. It was Mephistopheles duty as a hunter of the unseen and seen to give warning where they could.

"Worry not, unfamiliar. What I seek, you cannot find." Mephisto shook their head before letting their fiery amber gaze lock onto the strangers more grassy countenance.

"To you I will say this; something is amiss within these lands, something dark is here that you cannot see."

They leaned a hair closer, their head tilting as they observed the lines of scars on the other wolf's throat. The marring of a such a vital place usual held great power in the aftermath, should the carved one survive. Mephistopheles knew they likely weren't the most tactile creature but even they knew that some subjects were likely sore ones.

But something made the fur along their spine ruffle before it was forced flat by sheer force of will. There, from the neck of this wolf they swore they could smell faint traces of darkness. The wound was long closed but something about it felt as though it were still weeping.

"Bare not your throat to it, for some past act against you has weakened that barrier," They whispered, squinting their eyes at the scarring. "The flesh heals first, but something still clings that cannot be seen. Do not let it grow, or it will begin to fester further and consume you."

Uncertainty of the grim wolf's words itched at him like burrs too close to the skin. A darkness? He'd seen no sign of such a thing but he was in no position to argue their warning, whether he'd heed it was only up to himself. Still he disputed it in his mind, trying to piece together what little context he could surmise from his own experiences and the like. Perhaps they were speaking in reference to the Goddess that reigned over the encroaching season? Many wolves from where he originated described the Autumnal Lady as a dark crone of a wolf whose mere paw-falls bring death to the land she walks. He didn't agree with that depiction, but again- he wouldn't refute. 

However. The other's next move only uneased him further. Their gilded gaze hovered over his scars, of which now felt oddly vulnerable under scrutiny.

Their next words regarding them... Momentarily froze him to the core. He never liked to place judgment upon a wolf he'd barely known even for a few minutes but he found himself suddenly wanting to run the other way with the mere inkling that this wolf could somehow see into his past. The thought alone begged his face to distort with malcontent- maybe even a bit of fear. But he steeled himself against it with his own logic, and his outward appearance remained largely the same despite the tenseness under his skin. 

I'm not sure what you mean. Came his curt reply. He'd let the odd statement about his scars fall to the wayside, for now. Who are you? Are you a sort of... acolyte?

"An acolyte, this visitant?" Mephistopheles considered for a few beats of the heart, flicking the sharply pointed remnants of their ears. "Perhaps, in a way. I follow no one faith, but I know what I see, hear and smell. I know what the hidden tastes like."

Leaning back, Mephisto reached a hind leg forwards to scratch at the thick fur of their neck. A shiver had gone down their back, be it from a penetrating breeze or proximity to something otherworldly, they did not know.

What they could see was the way the other wolf's eyes had gone colder, the air around them going from surprised to guarded. It was an understandable reaction, but due diligence was given. Their job, for now, ended there was that warning.

"I am called Mephistopheles Van Zout, a hunter of the malign things that prey on living souls."

Huh, quite a name.

Henryk thought, all too quick to drop the previous topic altogether regardless of a resolution to his statement. He let himself slowly loosen, getting back to his usual neutrality albeit still warier than before. Later he'd ponder over Mephistopheles' mysterious words in his own seclusion and derive from it whatever he felt he needed to, if he even needed to. But for now... His curiosity mix-mingled with a standard of politeness on his part prodded him to remain and listen. 

Many new faces had already shown him at this point that his viewpoint as a younger wolf had been narrow, compared to the world full of different religions and tongues he now knew. He was more or less dedicated to learning, therefor prone to ask questions.

A hunter of malign? Of spirits that still walk the earth? Vague as his own spiritual experience was, specters and spirits that dwelled the land was something he'd indeed heard of before and even believed- though he'd never encountered them directly. Remnants of vengeance, rage, and unholy tragedies... Though sometimes simply stuck and unable to accept death. He was smart enough to stray away from anything of the sort, much preferring the world he could see and know over one that needed to be treaded lightly to avoid unseen consequences. Simply, he didn't need answers nor would he seek out supernatural occurrences, he'd simply pay his respects proper and move along, unhindered.

It did intrigue him that this wolf seemed like the antithesis of that, though, hunting them down. If he was correct about his assumption.

Whether others believed them or not was no concern to Mephistopheles, they could hear the caution in the wolf's voice as their words were echoed thoughtfully.

"Yes, the dark things. Not all are malevolent, but the ones that are sometimes seek to cause imbalance in the realm of the living," They asserted, roving their nose tip in an arc as if to cast their surroundings into focus. Whatever they were after could wait for this conversation, a quick educational chat for this stranger.

"They can latch onto creatures, canid folk and others. Burrow in to cause chaos in their heart and soul, in severe cases even take control..." Mephistopheles lowered their voice to a hoarse whisper, their eyes aflame with a frantic passion as their story went on. "I've seen it, I've dealt with it...it's a terrible, terrible thing to behold."


Yes. Yes these things could latch on like blood sucking ticks, growing fat on the woe and fear they spread. The damage left in the wake could leave a permanent scar, even if not seen by the common eye.

This unfamiliar, this stranger needed to know.

"When I was a yearling, my mother dealt with a possession that was so severe that I was not to be allowed to watch the patient's treatment. But being the young one that I was, I glimpsed a peek anyways.

It was an infection that had been left to rot for too long, and all that remained of the poor soul was a writhing and snarling husk. No longer even able to speak full sentences.

Tiny white blossoms bubbled from their maw, bound with long dried grasses and filled with herbs to keep them from biting. Their eyes were afire with hatred, limbs quaking and shaking with tremors as the thing attached to them fought for control. They'd refused water for several days, and were soon to pass from this world."

Here, they stopped to breath, panting lightly from the intensity of their tale. Then they went on.

"Before they passed, they had managed to bite several pack members. And the madness spread, each wound carrying a seed of darkness. It was the downfall of the vale where I hail from. And that is why it is my duty to destroy the darkness in this world."

The frantic, unsteady energy that had taken hold of Mephistopheles seemed to bleed out of them, leaving the midnight furred wolf looking much more subdued. "And that is only one variant, there are many dangerous things in this world, unfamiliar."

Henryk couldn't have expected the intensity of the fervor that was to follow his simple question. He'd unknowingly ignited a fire under the mysterious stranger, triggering an outpouring of anecdotes from their troubled youth with their amber eyes ablaze with passion for the subject. He came to understand that the unknown they spoke of was a sort of malevolent entity, one that would take over a poor soul and cause them to lose themselves over time, even turning on their own kin in madness and dooming them to a similar fate. The prospect of such an unseeable force (that was only one of many) was, quite frankly, horrifying to a wolf who'd never had the unlucky fortune of encountering it. Henryk's first response to this frightening unknown was to be skeptical. He more or less had to be.

Yet still, by the end of their tale, Henryk felt himself with his mouth agape. As the silence fell once more he became more in tune with the drumming of his heart in his ears. The energy between them had taken another turn and this time... The earthen man greatly considered his response.

Then... I'm glad to be blind of them. Perhaps an ignorant and dismissive answer, but an honest one. I've seen evil before but... I've felt none of it here. Least not yet. And by the gods, he'd really like to keep it that way.

Mephistopheles released a dry, mirthless chuckle at the stranger's response. Once more, it was a fair sentiment. Maybe even one that they would have once had themself. But the eyes once opened could not be forced closed again, such a time had long passed where they could turn back.

"How good to be you, unfamiliar," Mephisto replied, shaking their head slowly. "Be ye wary on your path however, as evil rarely shows itself in the light until it is too late."

And then the pull, tugging at their chest like a string wind onky they could feel. It was time to move on.

The dark furred wolf took a step back, turning their nose to to wind. "This is where I leave you, the hunt must continue."

Following the instinctual compulsion, Mephistopheles started off at an easy trot. They moved with a particular single mindedness, as if they hadn't just had a strange and one sided conversation just moments prior.

Aaaand that's a wrap!

Just like that the wolf turned and went about his day, leaving Henryk with an odd taste in his mouth and a ball of anxiety in his head that he'd spend the rest of the day unraveling. What an odd man to have met... He really hoped that this wasn't a sign sent from the higher and simply an eccentric encounter.

He still wasn't too awful surprised by it though. He'd met many faces unlike he'd ever seen before, and although this wolf left a particularly unsettling impression, he was simply one of the many... Least he hoped so.

After the dark wolf disappeared from sight, Henryk too began to trot away in the opposite direction. The pep in his step was noticeably lesser.