Witch's Marsh Unrequited

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@Reverie had ordered her to patrol the valley, and so here she was. Ever-obedient, ever-loyal, and yet she felt a sense of anger boiling in her chest.

It simply was not fair. Why did Hunst have the privilege of staying with her? Was Hokulani undeserving of the same? She had wished to protest, but arguing with Reverie was something she simply would not do.

She let out a snarl, stomping a unsuspecting spider as it crawled by. Her tail lashed, Haze rubbing her paw into the dirt to ensure it's death.

Always she had remained optimistic, cheerful. If someone saw her crack it would show weakness. But now nobody was here to see her.

In an instant of her realization she let out a long, blood-curdling scream. One she did not know could raise from her lungs. She allowed herself to fall to the ground, beating it with such force that it hurt her paws and tearing at the grass with her teeth until she began to taste the mud underneath. It was irrational, practically a tantrum, but it felt good.

Hunst watched from the shadows, his pale eyes cold but not unkind. He saw the way she tore at the earth, her frustration raw and unchecked. For a moment, he lingered in silence, pondering the turmoil within her. Then, stepping into the open, his heavy footsteps breaking the stillness, he spoke in a low, deliberate voice.

You've got your reasons, I can tell that much. But what’s really eating at you?

He stood a few paces away, his gaze unwavering, offering no judgment. His voice was even, though the weight of the unspoken promise hung between them.

And don’t worry, this stays between us. Beckoning that Reverie wouldn't find out.

A familiar voice sounded out - one that had become grating in her ears. She remained on the ground, huffing and attempting to catch her breath but turned her head to look Hunst in the eyes.

Her jowls raised as he spoke. He knew what she was upset about, surely, didn't he? In Hokulani's mind, he had to. Claws digging into the ground, she could only stare for the moment.

It was embarrassing. She was attacking the ground for god's sake, she had to look crazy. Covered in dirt, mud caked to her fur, she appeared and felt completely out of her element.

"You left her on her own?" Her words came out in a hiss. Shaky, filled with anger.

Hunst's gaze remained cold, unshaken by the outburst. He clenched his jaw, his stance firm as ever.

She’s right around the bend, he muttered, his voice low, as though the matter were trivial to him. Sleeping in a den I dug. The only reason I’m out here is ‘cause of all the damn noise. You think I’m stupid or somethin’? He didn't need to say more—his tone said it all.

And so did her appearance. Caked in mud, drenched in filth. He was no lean clean machine himself, though the perks he had was that Reverie would insist on grooming him. The one thing he wouldn't let her do was get feisty— and Reverie could get pretty snarly if she doesn't get her good rest.

Mature Content Warning

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Sexual innuendo, GASP

He thought he was so high and mighty, acting like he was any better than her. They had the same job here, did they not? He had no right to speak to her in such a way. Finally pushing to her feet she managed a smile, one that did not quite fit right on her face. Unnatural, disingenuine.

"Oh, the den the you dug? Hm?" She snickered, her tail curling behind her. "Are you planning to get in there too? Start sucking her dick for real?"

Hokulani found herself giggling uncontrollably, presumably at her own joke. She knew very well that it was in poor taste to say such things about a married woman.

An attempt to recover, to return to the image she was accustomed to presenting, yet her anger continued to shine through.

"Save some room for Dusty Rose, if you can. Selfish prick."

Hunst stood there, his towering form unmoving as Hokulani raged. His gaze was steady, fixed on her with an unsettling calm. The coarse words she flung at him barely seemed to faze him, his expression unreadable. The anger in her voice echoed in the air, but he didn’t rise to meet it. He simply stared, the faintest twitch of his jaw betraying his irritation.

His shoulders remained taut, but the rest of him was still, as if he were waiting for the storm to pass. He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. She could scream and curse all she wanted, but he wasn’t about to stoop to her level.

When she finished her tirade, he took a long breath, his chest rising and falling slowly. The silence between them stretched, as though he was letting her words settle into the air. His voice, when it came, was smooth but stern—a calmness that was almost eerie. He didn’t raise it in anger, didn’t let her words infect him. He simply stated what needed to be said.

Dusty Rose isn’t here right now.

The words hung between them, heavy and final. He didn’t need to say more—his demeanor said it all. He wasn’t going to fight her petty insults. He wasn’t going to engage in this mess.

His eyes flicked briefly to the ground, as if to remind her of the moment's futility. When he spoke again, it was quieter, almost like a reminder for her to hear herself.

You’re better than this. Think of what we're doing here before you pick a fight you won't win.

She hated him. Maybe because he had truly hurt her, or maybe it was simply that he had something she wanted.

It bothered her that Hunst would not fight, that he would not indulge her, feed her rampage. He was no peacemaker, nor was he Reverie. He had no right to attempt to calm Hokulani or make demands of her.

In an instant she lurched forward, snapping sharp pearly fangs at him, but stopped before she made any contact. A threat, as though she wished to say that she too could fight, that she could have him by the neck if she desired.

Another growl and she turned to begin stalking off.

"You sound like my father. He was an annoying fuck like you." Barely a child anymore, Hokulani would need to grow up.

Hunst stood still, his expression as unreadable as stone, his eyes locked on Hokulani's every movement. He did not flinch when she lunged, not even as the threat of her fangs came close enough to taste the air between them. The woman had fire in her—he’d give her that—but it was a spark that would burn out if it didn’t learn control.

He raised an eyebrow at her words, the corner of his lips twitching slightly, as if her attempt at intimidation amused him. The growl in her throat didn’t rattle him in the slightest, though her words hung heavy in the air.

His voice was low, and the words came out with the same brashness she seemed to expect, his tone steady, unwavering. Blessed be the Gods that I'm not. He leaned forward slightly, letting the words sink in before continuing. But I’ll be damned if I let you run wild just because you’ve got your teeth out. His gaze hardened, his shoulders never tensing. You want to fight? Fine. But don’t waste my time with tantrums.

The air between them thickened, his gaze unyielding, waiting for her to decide if she would stand down or keep up her charade. Either way, Hunst would remain the immovable wall he was—unflinching, unbowed, and unwilling to indulge her drama.

She paused as he spoke, the sound of conflict ringing in he ears. He had regained her attention now. "Are you trying to scold me?" She wrinkled her nose at the thought. Her neck craned to look back at the man

"It's cruel, really. You realize we'll have to learn to get along, hm?" She insisted, turning the conversation as though Hunst had been the one kicking and stomping his feet. Her expression had grown calm. "For Reverie."

It was not her voice that left her muzzle. It was far too content, lacking Hokulani's usual playful nature or even the pure rage induced aggression she had just displayed.

The storm was over, and she was returning to her charade.

She returned to the path she had begun, her steps light. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to clean up."

Hunst's sharp gaze followed Hokulani as she turned, his expression unreadable, his tone steady and cold when he spoke.

He scoffed. For Reverie. He knew what this was all about, but it seemed she had no fucking clue. He held his tongue. He'd hold it over, and over again— for Reverie.

He stood unmoving, his presence as constant and unyielding as the stone beneath his feet. His eyes remained on her, though his stance did not change. 'Ye don't got to worry about me. Watch your attitude next time, it could be Reverie 'stead of me.

With that, Hunst stepped back into the shadows, his demeanor distant, as if he had already begun to withdraw, his own thoughts closing off as he turned away. Clean up, then. But know this—actions speak louder than words.

His gaze lingered a moment longer, but only long enough to remind her that he was watching. Then, he was gone, as still and as cold as ever.