Wapun Meadow tremble for yourself my man

tagging @Evien for reference.

The days had been long, his muscles aches even though he welcomed the exercise. The warm sun to the south guided the two to their destination. But despite the long hours of their trek, it was the nighttime that weighed Kukulkan down.

The time of contemplation, when the quiet could not fight back against the worries that shrouded his heart. When he became swallowed whole by a black terror, a guilt without end. And it was during these times that he went for walks, leaving his new acquaintance to rest where they’d settled for the night. He found himself almost in a deep trance, led only by the wafting scents of the flowers in the darkness. That is, until, they quivered beneath the stench of other wolves.

Almost as soon as he’d smelled them, he heard them. Loud, obtrusive, drawing the stranger in close. His tall, lumbering form strode in, shoulders rolling and brows furrowing as he focused in on the scene he was closing in on. For a moment he’d considered calling for @Evien, but as the growls sliced through the evening air, he knew that moment was as good as gone.

Kukulkan closed the distance, his bright orange-red eyes squinting in judgement at the scene unfolding. ”Fucking off? At this time a’night? Seems but dang’rous, don’t ya think?” Words delivered without tone, simple, flat. Weighted. While he didn’t seek danger, the shadows that engulfed his heart, that ate away at him, left him feeling... unconcerned.

”These lands claimed? Ain’t no markers...” This time with minor inflection, his gaze turning over to the one who laid out the threats. ”Unless there’sa somethin’ else eaten’ atchya...” The darkness of his mask in the nighttime left his gaze to stand out in stark contrast. Even weakened from his days of sickness, Kukulkan still towered over the crowd, and those dagger eyes darted from one to the other, doing his best to piece together a puzzle with only two pieces.

A fight was not what he sought, merely interjection, but there was a prickling in his veins that would dance the dance if the tune struck.

For now he stood, watching, waiting.
Offering simple words.