Starglow Basin You're The Devil In Disguise

He had come to be with Leto, yet the woman paid little attention to him. Her mind was elsewhere, wandering and much too busy. He had brought her gold, offered her the affection she craved, took notice when she changed her coat.

Now he lay on his side, lazing about as he awaited her return. At times he felt a temptation to leave, but he simply could not. Not without her. He had abandoned those he loved once, and he would not repeat such a mistake.

Expectations of him had not been set, and so he was content this way. He would leave to hunt on occasion, but otherwise he was left waiting for Leto as though his very life depended on her.

soto could not profess to know the inner workings of his clan, but this wolf -- a package deal with leto -- perplexes him.

he limps out from the stone quarter and finds the man languishing. brow raised, the segundo approaches. qué estás haciendo?

A man approaches, the one who had once been introduced to him as Soto. Leto spoke well of him, and so Beau made a point not to carry any ill will.

He had watched Leto struggle with the tongue of many of her pack members, and it had left Beau grateful for what of it he shared. Something he had picked up by chance. He was nowhere near fluent, but it was enough.

While he did not move, he eyed the wolf as he spoke to him. "Espera." Waiting. That was his simple answer. What for was obvious in his mind; her.

he waits. it does not take soto long to figure out for who.

his gaze travels the length of this man’s frame. verapaz has no shortage of eye pleasing wolves; niño would have been so out of place here.

thinking of him brings his ghost to the surface. soto ignores the things el grasoso says, focusing instead on leto’s longing paramour.

me la follé, ya sabes. soto lies; it’s niño coming out in him.

besides, he wants to see this man’s face — he could use a good laugh.

Begging that wordreference is not lying to me rn, apologies for my poor grammar LMAO

As he carefully deciphers the words, Beau feels a sense of irritation fall over him. He knows Leto is far from shy with men, he knows she followed one here. He cannot allow himself to grow jealous. But who is he to speak of her in such a way?

Now Soto has his attention, Beau lifting his head to get a proper look at the other. "¿Tuviste que drogarla?" The question is blunt, the intention cruel. "¿O Leto simplemente extrañó a tu hermano?"

He pulls from what he has been told by the woman, of the business of Verapaz and the events leading to her joining. For a moment he feels guilty - she had confided in him. It may not have been for him to share.

His intention is to remain collected, but his body is far more honest than he is. A lashing tail speaks louder than a calm face.

soto hangs the line and lets it sink; a fisher waiting to snatch his fat carp. 

but it’s a piranha at the end of his hook, and that piranha sports rapier teeth. 

for several seconds, soto’s face is blank.

then he bursts with laughter from bow to stern, so forceful the gusts he’s nearly knocked over from the pain cracking his ribcage with each hearty laugh. 

he doesn’t find any insult in the accusation. his time in the brotherhood tell him there’s nothing wrong with those practices. 

wiping a tear from his cut cheek with a chuckle, the mirth fades abruptly from his face. una broma, hermano. soto inserts, noting his company has become stiff. nos harás niños lindos. and pretty children is just what the cartel needs.

The man speaks of jokes. Beau does not find himself laughing.

He wonders if Leto has heard them speak of her this way, if he should allow himself to be bothered by it.

It feels wrong to hear wishes of children leave the man's mouth - he feels worry for offspring he does not yet have. He hopes that he will not bear a daughter while he is here.

"¿Sabe cómo hablas de ella?" He questions.

what of it? soto’s eyes rove over this man. 

this man with delicate sensibilities that’s found himself surrounded by a cabal of roughened cads. 

does he know? is he stupid? 

soto can’t be bothered to be delicate. the cartel is all fangs and sharp edges. no room for squishy bits or soft sensibilities here. what you see will shear off your roundness until you are nothing but sharp angles and trauma. 

he shrugs. waits. then decides to ignore the question and speak. no durarás mucho. you won’t last long. an observation- not a condemnation. there is time yet for Beau to be useful.

He only let's out a soft growl in response to Soto's statement, raising to his feet and nearly pushing past the man as he takes his leave.

Beau does not need to make friends. There is no need for him to charm. He does not fear this man.

Leto is his priority. She has him wrapped around her claw and he knows it. He wishes to leave, to take her with him - but if Leto refuses what is he to do? If he goes without her, he is unsure if he will see her again.

Only once before had Beau fallen for another - and from that he understood that when he fell, he fell hard. His love for Leto would not fade quickly. He wished to hold onto her, to treasure her and snap at the lesser men in her life until they learned their place. Maybe it was immoral. Maybe it was what was expected.

he’s gotten under the man’s skin, and now he twists the knife. 

as he stalks past soto gets a whiff of testosterone; adrenaline hits him like the green. 

if he was healthier he’d pin beau to the ground where he belongs. but he’s hurt, and every battle needs to be chosen wisely. 

the anaconda watches him go, and his mind turns to easier tasks — where in this rock strewn place they might sow their first seed.