Fox's Glade Magical musical break-up hospital

It smelled like foxes here. Of course, that was probably due to the myriad foxes living in the area. 

Pyg wasn't sure about this place, but he needed some rest. The cold was no bother; being from the north as he was, he was used to tucking in for the evening in the clear, eventually blanketed under the falling snow. The presence of family made that situation even cozier. Alas, tonight, he was alone.

But it did truly smell quite strongly of foxes. His nose wrinkled as he padded down a well-worn path, wondering if any of the little buggers were apt to jump in front of him without a moment's notice. Just a small place, he thought, in which to tuck himself in. He'd been traveling for quite a while, now, with little sleep. Sleep was more than deserved.

"And miles to go before I sleep." Apropos. If Pygmalion was a man of literature and not, say, a wolf, he might have said the sentiment aloud. As it was, he merely trudged on, dark eyes darting in weary search.

edited 10/31/19

There were times when the general misfortune of being small worked in Bhediya's favor. For instance, famine rarely affected her as strongly as it did her purely wolf counterparts; while she did have to eat more often, small meals sufficed to keep her held over, as opposed to having to consume large portions in order to be even somewhat satiated.

Bhediya was still just as hungry as everyone else, but for now, she would be okay.

A part of the aging ascetic was grateful for the food shortages. Without the availability of the constant temptation, even as necessary as it was, Bhediya could focus on other aspects of her life. One part that she'd been particularly fixated on was her sadness and how long she'd neglected it.

A stranger wandered through a thicket not far from where she'd wandered. There was a moment of hesitation, wherein she debated between approaching them for conversation or continuing on her way. If they had somewhere to be, as most often do, then any efforts for the former would have been in vain. Standing still with her paws planted in the dew-ridden grass, Bhediya chuffed and waited patiently for a response.

Pyg is actually still up and walking, not asleep! :)

The chuff drew his attention from wandering thoughts, and Pyg turned his gaze, only for it to land upon an absolute angel of a woman—tiny and delicate, with a pelt of curled ebony. Her eyes were more verdant than the glade, and he found himself lost in them for a long moment, dazed. Positively stupefied.

After a pause for composure's sake, he found his tongue again. Good evenin', miss, Pygmalion said in his quiet burr, lifting his chin in a gentle smile. D'ye live around here? Is it a place a man can get a good night's sleep? 

She could tell him to piss off, and still he'd be enraptured. But she had approached in the first place, and so. . .he thought the chances of that were slim. God willing. Best case scenario, he could inveigle her into at least giving him her name, and where she made her den.

fixed it :)

There was a moment wherein thoughts of her past self drifted lazily through her mind. Bhediya wondered what her answer might have been before; likely a flirtatious bat of the eye coupled with a seated accentuation of the breast. In a past life, she might have toyed with him the way that she had with Grayday. The ascetic frowned as she thought about how much time was wasted pining for insincere
intimacy. 

Stepping close enough to better catch the stranger's scent, Bhediya said, It's quiet enough but you might find an unwelcome visitor. The expanse was known for its unruly population of foxes. Thus far, she hadn't had any cross her path and although it was odd, she wouldn't complain. It seemed that everything in the Wilds had changed since her last visit. Be careful, though. The packs here guard their borders carefully. Well, if I remember correctly.

Hmph. No response to his first question, but she answered his second readily enough. He nodded, figuring she must mean the foxes. . .although the mention of border-fervent wolves called that into question. Were they really so fierce? He supposed his own family was the same.

Do they, now? Pyg responded rhetorically, lips curving in a wry smile. And is one of those packs yours, then? She spoke of them a little detachedly, but maybe that was just her way of keeping her guard up. He couldn't know until he broke down her walls. . .if it were at all possible to do so.

He thought he had a pretty good chance at it.

Once, Bhediya replied with a deep exhale, but not anymore. The wayward sons of Morningside had long since retreated their posts, leaving her alone. Would they still recognize her? Would she recognize them? None of them belong to you either, I assume. Otherwise, the blanched stranger likely would be sleeping beside a cache instead of perusing an open field.

The wind blew sharply into the curls of Bhediya's coat, chilling her into a shiver. It must have looked quite pitiful to see such a small, insignificant creature try to fight through the creeping cold. She didn't mind if he drew concern. What do they call you, stranger?

Little by little, she began to unravel, revealing herself to him. Once lived here, now no longer. And as for Pyg. . . You assume correctly, he shot back, grinning. 

Her shiver drew his attention, and he moved closer, ready to offer the warmth of his plush coat. Underneath that, he was fairly full of flesh, having not withstood the famine the rest of these lands apparently were suffering from. Plenty of substance to keep her cozy, if she so desired.

Weel, my parents named me Pygmalion, he started, and it's Pyg for short. Dreadful name, but I havena come up with anythin' better. Perhaps you can, Pyg teased, raising his brows. What's your own name, darlin'? Something hopefully suitable for that beautiful face, 'else it'd be a shame.

Pyg drew forward and Bhediya drew back. It wasn't meant to be an insult, as she attempted to communicate with an apologetic shift of her ears. The cold was good for clearing the mind and although it was uncomfortable, the benefit was invaluable.

You don't have to have a name at all, if you don't want to. Names -- or specialized sounds, as Bhediya had come to know them -- were always optional. For her four, nearly five years of life, she'd known more than she could count.

Thus, Pyg's fantasy was fruitless. One could only hope that he would understand. I like to be called Bhediya, she replied with a kind twist of her maw, or just wolf. It's what the name means, after all.

Well, no. That wasn't at all how it worked, not in his opinion. But the woman had an interesting spin on it and had given herself a moniker that was more word than name— Bhediya. "Wolf," it meant. 

Pyg mouthed the name, all the while looking sheepish as she stepped away. He wouldn't push his luck again, not with such a clear denial. Perhaps with time. . .

I'll call ye Bhediya, he responded, wagging his tail in jovial fashion. It's pretty, lass. Suits ye. Strange and wild and wonderful, just like her. Where would her steps take her? Pygmalion was inclined to follow. Are ye just passing through, then?

A wide smile graced the ascetic's maw, even threatening to show a hint of teeth. It dawned upon her, finally, that this young man might have been trying his hand. Had he known her history, he might have long since given up his efforts, but Bhediya resented the thought of crushing his dreams. Thank you, Pyg.

It was unclear to even Bhe whether she planned to settle or continue on her journey. What she was certain of was this was far from her last stop. I may continue west. There was nothing there that she knew, but the thought of a true fresh start was refreshing. Where are you going?

He beamed at her thanks, tail continuing to move. His dark eyes moved toward the direction he believed was west, and he cocked his head in thought upon receiving her query. I dinna ken, he said wryly, after a beat of silent contemplation. Wherever the wind takes me, I suppose. Or the company of a beautiful woman, Pyg added, mock-bashfully blinking at Bhediya.

Good God, what was the matter with him? One conversation in with a female not of his family and he was already a drooling, cliche-ridden buffoon.

I'll figure it oot as I go, he sighed, trying not to think about how much of an arse he must look now. Best to hunker down before winter, aye? Even Pygmalion, from the far north, knew that there was strength in numbers in the coldest of seasons. Besides, his skills might be valuable to southern, less hardy packs.

The youthful look with which Bhediya had been blessed was sometimes and inconvenience, but in situations such as this, it seemed to work in her favor. It'd been so long since someone had cared to offer her a compliment; she couldn't help but smile.

In regards to settling, it seemed that everyone had the same idea. I'll be back here soon, she assured him with a nod of her head. Maybe we'll meet again. The thought of having someone around to protect herself and Ibis made the idea of returning to the marsh easier to digest. As it were, their current ensemble wasn't going to last long-term.

His face broke into a pleased, slightly open-mouthed grin as she put forth the idea that they, indeed, would meet again—even if their paths went different ways for now. Somehow, he didn't see that happening. Pyg was too keen on the woman to let her get away that easily. 

I hope so, lass, Pygmalion responded. He stifled a yawn. . .no, two yawns. So deep into conversation with Bhediya, he'd forgotten how tired he was. His shoulders hunched sheepishly as he cast his gaze down the path, then returned it to the dark she-wolf. I should get some rest. Been travelin' for a while, now.

He raised his pale brows in an expression not quite a leer as he added, Ye're welcome to come bunk doon with me, if ye please. Not an overtly lascivious remark; Pyg wasn't confident enough in his own stamina to think of doing anything else but sleeping at the moment. Still, they could keep each other warm. . .

It was easier to leave without acknowledging the cheeky invitation. Bhediya gave a hearty laugh and a genuine smile but chose not to speak. Times had changed; she couldn't keep going for the advances of strangers just for the sake of it. 

Bye, Pyg, Bhediya called. Without waiting for a reply, she turned and continued westward.