Ankyra Sound the devil's garden

In the forest above Ankyra Sound, to the right of the Bluff on the map.

a rainstorm forced him to the cover of a coastal forest, but that wasn't enough to prevent him from soaking through. it was good to have a place to rest, and he sought a puddle to soak his cracked feet; but otherwise drusk was stuck. he needed food primarily. he needed the rain to ease off before he wasted more energy than necessary crossing the fields.
did he want to go to the mountains? he flexed his toes, wincing as the scabs shifted. when had he gone so soft? something inside of him rumbled—maybe it was frustration bubbling up the back of his throat, maybe it was his empty stomach.
he made his camp there for the night, tucked in among trees who were buffeted by gusts of southerly winds.

remaining vague re: the Saph vs. Murkwood shtuff

he was warier than ever, and why shouldn't he be? lafayette prowled the borders of his homeland with a single-minded purpose—to ensure that no one would disturb their peace again.

sapphique would live, and thrive. he would see to it.

as he reached the southern border, the yearling continued on toward the sound. that place was sacred to his family, too, and deserved at least some measure of his attention. ruddy pelt slipped through trees, weaving down well-worn paths, and then—

drusk was downwind, but lafayette was close enough that he smelled the man. perhaps the bastard had already sensed his arrival.

still, he pressed forward with a snarl, the fur along his spine standing higher than the mountains to the southeast.

leave, now, he barked, not yet laying eyes upon drusk but knowing he was close. the rain fell hard upon the canopy above, and stray droplets spangled his pelt like bright spots in a fire.

a shout carried through the trees.

drusk roused; he lifted free of the roots and the ferns, sluggish despite the need to be quick. proprioception giving him a sense of his physical limits, perhaps exacerbated by the pain in his palms, the bruise-like quality of his muscles after so many days of roaming. sleep was what he wanted, but he was not going to get it.

he did not want to be targeted. neither could he run, really.

the stranger wasn't a stranger, either — their shape hard to see in the dark and the rain, but identifiable if drusk took the time to listen for the void. rain sounded different upon a forest and upon a body. still, drusk did not know exactly where the stranger was.

he picked a direction and tried to run.

"you see a man again in dat way, i suggest you put him down. "

a dark shape burst from the base of a tree near by and looked around, as if trying to spot his pursuer. after a few heartbeats, he began to run.

yes, manman, lafayette whispered.

then he ran, too.

the rain began to pick up, or perhaps it only felt stronger at this speed. he whipped around the forest trails, blinking water from his eyes, looking for a glimpse of the devil. his paws slipped on new green undergrowth, slick with moisture;

if he wasn't careful, he'd send himself headlong into a sequoia's massive, solid trunk.

he did not know if his path was safe.

no path was safe, not really, not ever.

the rain sleeted around him; the earth forced him to climb or it sharply cut away and forced him to turn, or to descend, and the soil was slick, and he grimaced against the stinging salt of it all.

he did not look back to see if he was chased—not until the last moment—and saw then, the growing presence of a swarthy body who appeared to be gaining.

a snarl ripples from him as he debates, in haste, what to do about it.

lafayette did not want to spill blood today.

but that was a lie; he did, he did, he yearned for the chance to strip the hide off this trespasser. and if he could catch up, he would.

sapphique, though, had more than its share of problems. he saw the man look back and snapped his teeth, bright in the gloaming rain. he growled himself and surged forward, looking to snap at the devil's ankles.

get out! lafayette shrieked, voice harsh and distorted by the rain.

he wouldn't rest until this man was far from the cliffs.