Noctisardor Bypass sunbeam showers

for @Vector :)

The petite Welsh wolfess was by the stream she had come to love in the multiple months that the Bypass had been her pack, laying down and resting next to the rushing bed of water. She'd caught a fat hare moments ago, busy filling in the pack's caches, also endeavouring to gain the trade of Gamekeeper.

She had two trades she was working towards, and progress was steady.

Now was the in-between hour of the day, though, around five-o'-clock, where the blue sky was beginning to be tainted with swathes of coral and purple. The sun was a pale, watery orange orb setting beside a set of distance mountains, the shadows that were cast on Crëyr's pelt everchanging.

Her mind was swirling— yes. She was thinking, thinking of the Alpha, thinking of Flash, thinking of Paar. Her mind wandered to where the crimson healer had gone to, where she was now. Her thoughts were then led towards Shadow's intentions to leave herself and Flash in his stead when he left to search for Paar, for two weeks or so. He intended for them to lead and if they did well, he would promote them to Centurion. Or beta, Crëyr knew.

She'd been thinking around that topic for a while.

The Russian had set to his duties rather skillfully, filling multiple caches in quick succession. It was as if the prey didn't even acknowledge him until he was upon them, and even so, their feeble attempt of escape was futile.
With the exception of a a skinnier rabbit that was significantly closer to its burrow than the others, he had caught everything, easily.

Vector felt he deserved a drink, partially to quench his now apparent thirst, and Secondly to wash away the staining of the preys krov' that brought his muzzle a shade closer to his pelt.
However, at the steam he was at previously at alone, the recon scented another.

A girl. Not an elder, yet not a minor. Unwed. Of the Bypass.
Alone.

His first encounter with a pack mate. Briefly, he wondered her status in the pack, but after his extensive time in captivity, she would definitely be of higher than him.
No matter.

Padding up to the bank of the river, he lowered himself to the cool waters, and lapped silently. The casual placement of his form suggested he was comfortable in her presence, however, he angled himself at an angle where he could study her from his peripheral.

"Privet, devushka."

A formal greeting, but one none the less.

Her nose twitched at the scent of another not far from her side. The scent was of the Bypass, the smell of home, which brought her peace. It had been a while since her last decent encounter with a Bypass wolf that was not Shadow, which was Flash, so Crëyr was pleased for an opportunity to get to know her packmates slightly better.

This Autumn-touched male was who she recognized as the Bypass' former captive, Vector, now released from captivity. He was also the wolf that had seemingly hunted down and polished off a pile of rabbits around two months ago. Well, he was now in the pack, wasn't he?

Crëyr smiled faintly.

He said something, two words that were not of a familiar language. A greeting in his mother tongue, she knew, which allowed her to let her Welsh slip off her tongue, accompanied by English. "Cyfarchion. Greetings."

So the girl was not of this land either, was she? That would make for distant t informative conversation, and one he did not mind having for this short period of rest he allowed himself.
So the russian conversed.

"What is your name?"

Silence drenched his features, his usual covering was one of quiet. Listening was a trait ypu had to earn, for talking was not a survival tactic of the North. Listening kept you alive. Talking got you killed.
However, this was pack lands, a place of peace within family, or so an outsider would assume, until they stretched their gaze between the dangerous ties of Hadrian and Vector.
The game of russian roulette that continued every rendezvous they sparked together. What was down in the shadows, was a game they played, alone.

His emeralds placed themselves on her face, not staring her in the eyes, though close enough to her irises to give her his full, or what she could believe was to be his full, attention.

delayed, short response. crap. sorry, X.

"My name is Crëyr," She said smoothly in a response to his question, knowing his name was Vector. Seizing the opportunity to study one of her newly-met pack members, she let her eyes trail from his bright emerald eyes to his seemingly Autmn-touched pelt— rusty hues and darker browns, though they varied. "May I ask what the language you'd spoken was? It seemed to have ties to one I've heard, though that may not be the case..."

She knew she'd seen him before. Back in the first pack meeting of the Bypass she'd been to, when the pack had been ripe with healthy, strong members... Where were they all? Where had they gone to? Why, when they needed everybody the most, had they disappeared in the midst of it all?

He kept his maw shut, the question hanging in the air as if she had asked some sort of blasphemical atrocity. Though he had no issue with such a question, he, for some unknown reason, did not feel oblidged to answer such a question. One he had once been so proud to answer. One of his heritage.
This damned land was corrupting him.
Vector, to spite the slow seeping of the nativity in the Bypass, he spoke, his accent thickly intertwined with the words uttered

"I am of my motherland, Russia. And the language as of earlier, was russian."

Short. To the point, yet blunt. His way of words. Nothing of hostility, for if he had such, the recon would have no hesitation in showing her such, only to face his thoughts chastising him in the fashion.
She was of higher rank thn him. How dare he?
That was just it. He dared. Not yet, though, too soo.
Much too soon. He had much to learn before challenging anyone of their authority.

"Did you speak something of the sort, Crëyr?"

The male kept his jaw shut, his emerald eyes flashing, as if she had asked him something that had made him not want to answer. Had it been offensive? She didn't know. Immediately she began to analyze what she had, and came to the conclusion that his lands, or well, his native language was not something he would like to start a conversation with her about. Probably. Maybe.

He surprised Crëyr when he answered her directly after that. Russian. She'd never heard of that, though it was possibly a language that belonged to a region (well, Russia, wherever that was) that was not far from Wales.

She regarded him with curious cerulean eyes, studying him in the most subtle manner. Vector asked her a question regarding the Welsh she has spoken earlier. "Iaith y Gymraeg. I spoke Welsh, the language of Wales. I suppose we both are of countries from similar regions?"

The assassin continued his gaze upon her for a uncomfortable minute, until he turned away from her, staring at his reflection in the river.
He supposed the language she spoke was far from his, though it did have its slight commonality. It was either that, or somehow, he met some Welsh blood, possibly conversed with them, and went on his way, for he knew what she said.
Welsh Language.

"Vel'sh yazyk."

Another second. Two. Three.

"That is how you say it in Russian. Sounds a bit like it's own self, doesnt it?"

Only then, did he turn his gems back to her own sapphires.
He had no clue how he knew what she said, it simply clicked in place in his mind.

Vector turned away from her, proceeding to face his own reflection in the river. It wasn't long before he spoke again, this time again in Russian— she supposed, though it did sound slightly like what she'd said in her mother language earlier.

He confirmed it when he told her that it was indeed what she had said, only in his language— how did he know? He might have had learnt the language before, though probably not the entire of her mother tongue. Perhaps he'd been given a little tips and pointers from any other Welsh wolf he'd met.

She had no idea of his background, where he'd come from— this male didn't seem to open towards his past, though she could say that she was slightly eager to find out. Crëyr's curiosity had been bubbling up inside of her.

"Faint o ieithoedd yn fwy ydych chi'n siarad, Vector? She inquired for the number of languages he knew or was slightly familiar of, though she wasn't sure if he fully knew her language and if he would be fluent in conversing in Welsh with her. "You have came in contact with the Welsh language, I'm guessing?"

A Word dealing with 'number' or 'amount' was in the same sentence with 'language'. Using context coles, he figured she asked how many other languages he had known of. Then the second sentence she started confirmed his inference.

"YA govoryu tol'ko na dvukh yazykakh. "

A pause, the allowance he spared for the words to sink between them, before he offered the translation.

"I only know two languages," and in the thickly accented voice he carried like a fifth limb, he continued his analysis,"however, I feel as though I've encountered a Welsh tribe before. I might have unconsciously absorbed their language, before moving on. "

Following the Russian was Vector's offering of an explanation, informing her that he only knew two languages. Russian, well, and English.

She noticed an accent, slowly seeping into his words, slightly mixing up with the plain American accent he'd probably had picked up. Promptly she wondered how long he'd been in the Bypass, if not, Teekon Wilds. Following that was another thought, which, without meaning to, slipped out. "How long have you been in these lands?" The grayscale girl allowed a pause, before resuming her inquiry. This time, it was different sort of question. As she spoke, she let herself a small chuckle, half to attempt to lighten the mood. Sourness and discomfort were the last things she wanted between conversations with her packmates, especially in these conditions She could pretty much sense it in the air around them. "Have I been asking you too many questions? My apologies, for I am quite curious."

He spoke of how he'd came to recognize the Welsh she had spoken— a tribe of her nationality, one that he'd probably met back home. That seemed to make sense, though there were probably more tribes he'd met whose languages he'd picked up. After all, Vector seemed like a... diverse wolf.

He knew what she was doing. The devushka was trying to lessen the tension between the two. And fortunately, he felt like being a decent Wolf today. And he had already told himself to Converse with the girl.
He was a man of his word. Mainly.

"No, you're fine. I apologize, for I am not used to conversation. "

To punctuate his words, he lowered his head, a gesture that most took for humility.
Returning to his eased state, he returned the question with a answer.

"I have remained in Teekon for almost a year, now, I believe. "

His mind debated on the positive or negative aspects of consequences dealing with telling her a bit of his back story, and figuring she could apply only minimal harm to him, he edged a bit.

"I was captured by humans, not too long ago. They brought me here. "

Crëyr nodded politely when Vector apologized, for he claimed that he wasn't used to conversing with other wolves. She wondered if he'd been solitary until he'd joined the Bypass— the grayscale girl kept the arising question to herself this time, though. A year seemed awfully long to be alone, as Crëyr had only been around here since the beginning of summer.

He said something about being captured by humans and having been brought here— humans. The petite wolfess hadn't learnt too much about humans— she'd never really caught a glimpse of too many, though she knew that they were physically tall, looming creatures that carried alien items and wore scraps of material on their bodies. Cover-up, perhaps. A method of camouflage.

She almost laughed.

"Humans? I haven't heard of them much, they don't seem to dwell around this region. The last time I've seen one was possibly... well, I think I was too young to remember a detailed picture. So... how do humans look like, Vector? She had the outline of a human's figure in her head, readying it for Vector to fill the insides in with lines and color.

She wished to hear what lyudi looked like? Had she not seen the hideous beings, herself?
Vector recalled his time being transered to this land, his 'owners' who thought he was one to be kept. A pet. Some sort of companioon for themselves to play with.
He only played their games for so long, before he ate their dog, and left them the scraps, and made his way here.

"They are dva nogi, two leggeds, the tall beings who multiply and have smaller dva nogi. Their pups take longer than ours to grow, however, years upon years. They are idiots."

Vector smirked at the memory he recollected , the little human putting his hand on his tail, and thinking he wasn't going to get punished for the personal violation. That very day, Vector had savaged all of the child's toys, and well according to his plan, kicked out of the house, to live in the barn with their other dog, an annoying mutt breed retriever, who had no idea what silence was.
That was before he was silenced, personally, by the assasin himself.

"They perform actions without awareness of their consequences. They are nearly furless, with the only fur ive seen on them being their heads. Their snouts are barely existant,their nares weak, and uncomparible to ours. They are extremely sensitive to touch, the lightest nip by one of us, a savage bit to them. They speak nonsense,"

Vector remembered eating the cat they had kept as a pet, the yowling thing immediately quieting as it went down his throat, and the idiotic humans still keeping him, though they yelled foreign words at his behavior.

"And they are again, idiots."

100th post! BD

The silver-graphite wolfess imagined, well, tried to imagine a furless, two legged, snoutless, tall creature. At this rate Crëyr wouldn't ever want to see a human, and she was relieved that she barely remembered what one looked like, much less how idiotic they were.

Vector smirked, his emerald eyes flicked upwards, probably recalling. He seemed to be rife with the memory of humans, and the grayscale girl wondered what had happened to get him into the hands of a few. They'd brought them here, according to him. What made humans take care of him and bring him here?

A flicker of disgust crossed the red-pelted man's face as he spoke of them. "I suppose they realized that you were incompatible with them and released you here." She wondered what the humans wanted with him when he was with them.

"No, I ate their dog, and escaped their home lands. I suppose they were too frightened to give chase to such a murderer. I have yet to see another human, and for this, I am glad."

Vector had no issue with notion of killing humans. They were prey. All Breathers were. And as word spread from maw to aud, a fellow russian told him of the sweet taste their blood held. Vector pondered the perfect flavor of prey, the warm and thick liquid that could sate a wolf's thirst, but cause him to crave more.
And this was why the very wolf who told him of the humans taste, got gunned down and murdered.
As stupid as the humans were, they did have a lust for vengeance, and for that, he gave the Two Legged's credit.

"What, does your land not hold Humans?"

quickly concluding!

he said what crëyr expected him to say. ate their dog, escaped their home lands, not have them chase after him. when he sent a question her way, promptly she answered.

"yes, but i was young. i can't remember. neither have i eaten a dog or escaped their home lands, like you have," she spoke, her tone mildly joking."anyway, good talk. see you around."