Sheepeater Cliff To gather, such curious things

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You seem like a fit hunter, strong legs and pretty teeth.

To Cassian’s recollection, there wasn’t a single point in time where another soul had gone out of their way to actively compliment him. The sensation that it bore, the revelation that sprung forth out of it was….it was….

Boring.

To this man, there was no pleasure to be found in the paltry words of others. Save for when they actively chose to engage with him, of course. If there was a challenge to be had, a task to be given, some sort of directive to aim and aspire for only then did those murky, brown waters of his gleam tirelessly. This was a simple, tellable sign that only blossomed forth shamelessly when the next sentence drawled its way out of the woman’s maw.

You could catch me something nice, I’m certain.

Yes, he could. He would. He should garner something for this stranger who was clearly naught but a bag of bones cascaded in illustrious, captivating fur. Yet, the most alluring aspect that Cassian found were the scars delicately placed around the dame’s ears. So captivating, in fact, that when their bodies made contact the man edged just the tiniest bit closer to run the edge of his nose against one of them. There was now a new object of interest presented forth and chasing the dopamine that fueled the everyday antics this soul peddled in proved time and time again to be the simplest, most effective way of life.

Envy.

The name in itself was so…eerily fitting. Cassian etched it within the confines of his mind, making certain to never let it run free. A core memory that would stand the test of time. At least, the sun-kissed wolf prayed for such a thing. It’d already transpired once and the mere prospect of it occurring yet again was something that filled him with a foreign sense of trepidation and fear alike.

“Okay, I’ll be back, Envy! One fresh fox, nice and alive just for you! Envy, Envy, Envy, Envy, Envyyyy.” The way it coiled off of the tongue was charming to him. Even if it fell deaf on her ears it mattered not to Cassian. 

It would be but thirty lonesome minutes before Cassian returned. The scarlet fox encased within the wolf’s pretty teeth once scrambled about tirelessly but now its body hung limp and hopeless. But, it was still perfectly alive to be played with.

“Here! I did my best to not do too much to it besides catching it. Oh, and you had a question about what I wanted earlier, yeah?”

The words came by initially muffled. Then, an entire moment whisked by. In that time, Cassian laid down, allowing the fox to run free for a singular second at most before stamping a paw down on its tail to keep it in place. There, brown met with red, and in the mired sea of the unknown a twisted interest was born anew between these two wayward, wandering souls.

“You can keep it, the fella is basically tuckered out at this point, haha! You had a question about what I wanted earlier though, right? Sorry, I thought I answered!”

On that day, Cassian felt true joy run its course through his veins.

“I want my ears to be like yours. The scars are…so alluring! Plus, even if my memory goes away one day, I’ll still have something to remember you by! Does that sound fair? Pleeeeease, Envy?” He asked; no, he begged . Almost innocently, too, were it not for the sadistic way his paw grinded itself into the dirt to cause pained yelps to spring forth from the fox caught for her.