Sleepy Fox Hollow The way she goes, Bubs

@Anselm

Given the season, Suzu felt inclined to leave Sapphique, as if to avoid catching an affliction. She had already made up her mind and had stated it before the meeting of women- but that didn't mean that her body wouldn't betray her when the time came. So when she sensed that Mireille had gone off in search of suitors, she figured her mother might soon as well. Part of her feared that it might trigger her own biological clock- so she made the decision to politely R-U-N-N-O-F-T and go to visit her brother, who had spoken of a glade in the mountains. 

She had caught seven sea urchins and had tucked them inside a rabbit's pelt to make it easier to carry the delicacy for him, as a treat. She made it as far as Felltree Marsh when one of them fell from the pouch as she slipped on a patch of ice, and cracked open on impact. She clicked her tongue, and fretted for no longer than two seconds before she pulled the spiny creature apart and devoured the eggs within. He would still be pleased with six- and so long as she left the shell behind, he'd have no way of knowing that she'd originally brought him seven. 

Six became five by the time she reached the Emberwood, where she stopped for the night and woke up ravenous. She realized how ill-suited she was for long-distance travel, having relied primarily on scavenging and beach-combing for her meals, rather than hunting land prey. Five became four when she convinced herself that four was enough for a gift, anyway. 

She skirted the edge of Arrow Lake, and began the ascent into the mountains there. While the sea urchins weren't necessarily too heavy, she decided to lighten the load when she stopped to catch her breath. She needed the nutrition- she wasn't acclimatized to this sort of altitude. She had spent her entire life at sea level- she would need the boost if she even wanted to make it to her brother. Thus, four became three. 

She took a wrong turn between the two mountain peaks, and ended up in a canyon. Out of frustration, she cracked another sea urchin open and fed on its eggs, leaving the shell behind in a place that was possibly the furthest a sea urchin had ever been from the ocean. At this point, the eggs started to taste a little bit...Off. 

By the time she made it to Sleepy Fox Hollow, that last portion of sea urchin eggs began to roll and squirm in her belly, making her grimace and growl. A few days of travel was too far to go for such things; she regretted not devouring them all earlier, perhaps when she had been on the lake where she could have smashed them open on the ice. Then she wouldn't have eaten the next one in the mountains that threatened to burst out of her by whichever was the path of least resistance. 

Fortunately, a life of eating seafood (often things that had simply washed up on the beach, already dead) made her a bit more capable of not losing her bowels completely. Instead, she was just left with severe cramps and wild, gurgling intestines. She moaned, and dropped the pelt, spilling the last two sea urchins onto the ground. She considered eating them now, regardless of the consequences- but another clench in her gut forced her to reconsider. 

She could tell Etienne had been nearby, sometime in recent times- but his scent was a bit more faint that she expected it should have been. She called out, then, hoping at least that he might be within earshot, and that he might have some tincture for rotten guts.

A whoop and a smell -- but most importantly, the smell.

Anselm focused on it. Its salty tang -- the way it curdled the hairs along his nose. It was unpleasant and intriguing at once, leaving its calling card by thousands of scent particles that pulled him close.

The source: a round, fat little wolf. Anselm eyed her mistrustfully immediately -- for who trusts a fat wolf?

Vhat do you vant? He sighed in that oft-repeated phrase -- all that practice of late, and it came across delightfully cutting.

At her feet were two curiously spiky mounds - rocks maybe, except for the grotesque odor emanating from them. Girl, you fucking stink. Vhat is the matter vit you?

His scent was vaguely recognizable- having been mingled into her brother's scent when she had seen him last. But unlike Eti, his expression was dour and he approached with such hostility in his gaze that she was distracted from the twinge in her gut. He looked to be roughly the same age, though with the mien of a cantankerous senior citizen parked too long in their wheelchair. 

To his snide question she replied instantly with a sweet smile and a batting of her eyelashes. "Well, I called for Etienne, did I not?" She intended to obscure the line between innocence and condescension; her tone was on point. 

She showed no offense when he expressed his disgust, though she did not appreciate that it was directed at her, rather than the slightly-off seafood. "You be not from de coast, so I forgive you- it is a delicacy but...Requires a more refined palate," A small dagger came unsheathed; a glint of a tooth as she grinned, only to be concealed by softened lips a moment later. She lowered her gaze to his feet, and allowed them to drift slowly back up to his face. 

"You must be de one my brot'er was 'ealing, hmm?" She said. True, he was only in debt to Etienne, but a debt owed to Etienne was also a debt easily netted by the women of Sapphique who had to pine for their distant son and brother. "Seems 'e done a good job." Though she felt it was a pity that there was no cure for his poor attitude.

Anselm was prepared for pushback -- but he was not prepared for Suzu's specific brand of cleverness.

Unlike Fiona, who maintained her calm and objectivity -- and unlike Heda, who could wield bitterness fine as any blade -- Suzu's tone had a dry humor to it. Anselm got the keen sense he was the brunt of the joke.

Anselm was caught with his metaphorical pants down. He glanced in disbelief to the urchin, and then to the woman. No vonder you are so prickly, if that is all you eat. His lips curled as Suzu revealed she knew Anselm had been hurt. He did not like that she knew more about him than he knew about her -- and why was she calling for Etienne?

Surely, Etienne didn't have a thing for fat chicks -- right? Vhat's a fat chick vant with Etienne?

But then he realized she'd said brother -- and mercifully, things began to make sense. Oh. Was it too late to take back what he'd said before?

She chuckled almost good-naturedly and shrugged her shoulders up to her earlobes. Being called prickly was practically a compliment, even if it wasn't intended as one. She rarely got the opportunity to be so snippy with anyone anymore- her brothers had always treated her as if she was a precious piece of sea glass. The last time she had been able to freely be sassy with someone her own age was before Quennell, Swordfish and Stingray had left the pack. She didn't realize how much she missed that retort until-

- wait did he just called her fat as an insult???

She was more offended by being called a 'chick,' as she felt she was thoroughly more complex than whatever being a 'chick' implied, but the comment on her weight caused her to blink in a momentary reveal. She sized him up with another brief, glance. Etienne could do better than this judgemental asshole. While her lips did not lose their smile, her eyes did. She waited for him to answer his own question, benefitting from the moment of silence in order to restrain herself. She drew in a breath, as if to diffuse the tension, and then swiftly pulled the key on the same grenade he'd tried to toss at her.

"Vhat's a skinny, loner boy vant wid 'im now dat 'e is all 'ealed up, hmm?" She'd attempted his accent, but transitioned back into her own by the end of the sentence. She leaned forward, and her expression became more stern. Her next question came slow, and in a lowered voice. "You are not taking advantage of my brot'er's kindness, are you?"

Anselm gasped. This chick stole his schtick, imitating his accent! No!! No one does that but him!

His fur flared in outrage. He deserved every bit of arsenal thrown his way, and Suzu was every bit his better in the clever department - but Anselm did not see it that way.

He straightened up. He kind of felt bad about calling her fat. He wanted to come swinging at her, and he did - but the moment the smile left her eyes, he'd known he'd gone too far.

Ah well. What was Anselm if not a case study in "too far"? He was the proverbial Aesop fuck-up - the guy parents warn their kids about becoming if they're not too careful and don't get good grades.

The insinuation he was gay entirely flew past his head - but not the implication he was taking advantage of Etienne. At this, it was Anselm's turn to have his expression darken. She wasn't saying anything he hadn't already wondered before -- but it was such a particularly hideous thought to hear out loud. What did Etienne see in him?

He is a grown man, he makes his own decisions. Do you mean to imply that this -- He gestured up and down his frame -- skinny loner boy could force your brother to do anything he did not vant to do?

She couldn't argue his first point, but she knew her brother well enough to know that even as a full grown man, he would lay down his life for those he cared about, even those who might not mean the best for him. She studied his features to see if he might be hiding something- a bit of shame, perhaps. Was he being defensive because she'd zeroed in on some guilt, or was this just his default? His face would get stuck this way, if it was the latter.

"Not force, Chéri," While he looked fit, she didn't want to let on that she thought so. "Manipulation. I know my Eti, an I know it would take very little for someone to influence 'is decisions when 'e cares enough about dem to be away from 'is family." She paused. Etienne had revealed very little in words when he'd explained his task, but he'd revealed a great deal with his actions when he chose to take care of Anselm out in the wild, rather than bringing him to Sapphique to heal. "But...Eti would not choose to 'ang out wid some...mop-faced...Funsuck if 'e did not want to so..." She arched one brow. "Who de ffffuck are you anyway?"

Anselm's brow furrowed deeply. It was usually him on the barrel end of insults, exchanging them freely as one breathes. Being the target of such vitriol was an unusual turn of events, and unpleasant, too.

It was not so nice being on the receiving end of rhetoric.

How could she castigate him so effectively? He refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing he was bewildered by how quick witted she was. He was shuffling in the court of witty riposte; and she the artful fencer and deflector of every heavy hitting swing.

You think I am the reason he is not vith his family? Anselm scoffed. He wanted so badly to share what Etienne had shared with him -- but as he notched the arrow that would surely penetrate her heart, he realized loosening it would hurt Etienne, too.

This mop-faced funsuck -- He drew to his full height, fur barbed. be Anselm Sonnenwasser. Etienne is my packmate, you ... sassy frick. He came here of his own accord. Maybe he just likes looking at me better than you.

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His expression worsened, and she wondered briefly if Anselm suffered from chronic headaches from all of the frowning.

"Yes," she said, blinking. Was he not aware that he was the reason Etienne had stayed away? There was a possibility that Etienne had not told Anselm the truth- or what she knew to be the truth, and she was humbled by the realization for a moment. Maybe this guy had no clue how Etienne felt about his family but...That would mean that her brother had either lied about his history, or was burying it. That seemed impossible, but the notion rattled her conviction nonetheless. 

She inhaled as he stood up, shaking her head faintly, brow raised. He was really going to pull the 'I'm taller than you' card? This guy was serving small dick energy on a platter. Nevertheless, his new nickname for her tickled her and shook a peal of chiming laughter from her. She continued to smile, though with her eyes lightly squinted. 

This guy really didn't get it, did he?

"Possibly. You are much nicer to look at den you are to talk to, so," She shrugged.

What was it with women and words? They were all better at dishing them than him. Anselm was rattled; he shook the tension out from his ruff, eyeing Suzu with his most menacing scowl.

She remained unimpressed. In this way, he was reminded of Etienne. Both of them had a sleeping-volcano quality about them. The fire was there, it was just passive -- waiting for the right moment to spring.

It occurred to him that if he was cruel or rude to Etienne's sister further, that Etienne might find out -- and worse still, be hurt or hate him for his actions. This alone settled his acerbic tongue, but did nothing to address the chronic scowl on his face. Especially since she just laughed - and once again, Anselm was left knowing he was the brunt of some hidden joke.

Wait. Had she just called him good looking?

I would say the same for you, but you schtink. Anselm cleared his throat. It was too late to play nice, but he could at least try. For Etienne. Etienne is not here. He left to go -- Here, a visible look of anguish twisted Anselm's expression. See off a mutual friend.

But she was not a friend -- and that bitch had stolen everything from him by luring Etienne away.

Schtink. The word made her crinkle her nose, but more in amusement than disgust. There was really no point in debating her odour with him- he wasn't wrong, however had no idea just how fortunate he was that her intestines were strong enough to hold off on releasing the gas that was building up inside her. Sleeping volcano indeed. 

He now seemed capable of showing more than just anger; there was something nuanced about the twist of his lips when he said the word friend that caught her attention. He didn't seem like the kind of wolf to have very many friends but she bit her tongue. "What is de bitch's name?" She asked. It seemed that the disappointment was something they shared- maybe he could dish out the drama, if it was something that he was bursting to talk about.

Anselm's ears cupped forward in surprise. That was an unexpected word -- but not one he disagreed with.

How much could he trust a smelly, round wolf that showed up at his doorstep one day, claiming to be Etienne's sister? He glanced at her sidelong.

There were enough dissimilarities there that one might be pressed to say they might not be related. But it was the glint in her eyes, so similar to Etienne's, that made Anselm reconsider.

Heda. Her name left his tongue like a sour pill -- and once it was released out into the world, Anselm shivered at its power. She and her children stayed here for a time. Etienne healed her daughter. Now they return home. And they took my only friend with them, Anselm nearly choked out. You can take those smelly rocks and march that vay. He pointed towards Rivenwood. You vill know it by the scents there.

"Heda?!" She blurted so suddenly that she sent a little glob of spittle flying. She pretended not to notice, secretly hoping that it landed in his eye for calling someone like Heda a bitch. Heda was so sweet, welcoming and empathetic that she even felt bad for implying that she was a bitch before she'd heard the name. 

She listened incredulously as he explained that Heda had come inland- very far inland for the island-dwelling wolf, which brought Suzu a great deal of worry. Why were Heda and her kids travelling this far inland, and how had her daughter been injured? 

Clearly, though, he hated her. 

She wanted to know what had happened to the charitable woman who had taken her in in a time of great need- but she doubted very much that she would get one more word of information out of Anselm if she proved herself to be a Heda-sympathizer. 

"Yeah, I know de name. But you be rid of 'er now- an' Etienne will come back," She searched his expression at the mention of her brother's name. "Is dat not a relief to you?"

There was recognition there. Anselm's brief moment of vulnerability snapped back with a clap, his mental shell hard and spiked like the self-same urchins that poisoned Suzu's belly. He did not think he could trust anyone, least of all a wolf who seemed to know the widow.

Tormented by his imagination, which informed him Etienne would discover Rivenwood's company more amenable than his own and leave him like everyone else did, Anselm looked back to Suzu with something akin to detachment.

He was not so sure Etienne would return. Why would he? Anselm knew he was an asshole. He knew he brought nothing to the table that Etienne needed. He had driven Heda and her daughter away. Why wouldn't Etienne be next? Like I said, He motioned gruffly, voice gravelly with heartsickness he could not entirely disguise. Rivenvood is that way.

He seemed keen to wave her away, sending her off toward yet another area she had never been to. After having travelled this far and this long, she was absolutely not interested in going anywhere soon.

”If it be all de same to you,” She said, ”I would like to wait for Etienne. It be a long journey from de coast, my paws be tired,” She anticipated his timely return- Etienne had fled without giving any warning once before, but it was not something she thought he would ever do again. She knew he cared for the mop-faced funsuck. ”You won’t ‘ardly see me. Or, I can ‘elp out a bit wid hunting, marking, so on. In exchange for hospitality,” She also hoped he might feel either indebted, or inclined to avoid a bad review from when she inevitable spoke to Etienne again.

Anselm did not bother to hide the incredulous look on his face. Did Urchin-Breath really just invite herself into his home?

He was about to say absolutely fuckin' not, but remembered this was Etienne's sister. Besides -- What Would Etienne Do?

He sighed. He knew exactly what Etienne would do. Sister or no, the boy was a bleeding heart. It was one of the many things that endeared Etienne to Anselm; they were so very, very different.

Besides, as of late, Anselm was beginning to feel less and less proprietary of the Hollow. It was exhausting playing one-man enforcer: people traipsed all over his home without a shred of remorse, and besides, what good of a home was it? Emmerich wasn't returning. Wylla and Mahler were long gone. Anselm's reckoning had come in the bitter form of a small, angry widow -- and he realized he was clinging to something that didn't care to cling back.

So, let it go. Easier said than done; he supposed he owed Waxwing some sort of apology. Fine. At least this one wasn't hurt, like the last stray Etienne had gone and adopted. Her biggest crime was just that she stank. But take a bath before you start valking around. I do not vant to be smelling you veeks from now.

She chuckled softly, but knew better than to push his buttons now that he had so begrudgingly allowed her to stay in his home while she awaited for Etienne's return. She would bury the sea urchins somewhere, so that the smell would wane quickly. She was hungry, btu not hungry to risk eating another of the delicacies and risk making a huge stink herself. 

"T'ank you, Anselm Zonnenvasser," She pronounced his name as well as she could, willing to give him a win by playing nice. She doubted that very few wolves thanked him for anything- it would likely do him some good to realize that being nice could feel nice. "An' don' be worryin'. I keep myself very tidy when I am not travelling scores of miles to see my brot'er," He'd see. He'd see just how cute and plush she was once she got a proper blow-out. Then, he might regret thinking that being fat was something worthy of insult.

Anselm's bristled fur began to settle. He'd expected some fisticuffs, maybe further banter -- but turned out, as soon as you were pleasant, Suzu was pleasant back. If Anselm could call his version of suppressed niceties pleasant.

He had not been thanked in a long time. He grunted noncommittally in answer. Do not thank me. Thank your brother. He motioned for Suzu to follow, beginning to make for the rendezvous. If it was up to me, I vould turn away anyvonne who came to my door. Your brother has other designs. Tidy or not, Suzu had made one thing known to Anselm -- her relationship with the seaborn man made her tangentially safe from Anselm's outright hostility.

But it did not guarantee his hospitality.