Phantom Hollow jekyll and hyde

When he awoke, he stirred to consciousness to find that the Hollow he'd taken shelter in for the night as dusk had broken the horizon, cracking the sky open with it's colors: gold, crimson, purple and navy blue as the sun made it's last stand, defiant before it'd sunk into the crust of the earth in the distant horizon to be covered in a dense layer of fog. Unfamiliar with the territory as he'd initially been this created a vacuum of disorientation that left the fiery eyed Kesuk-DiSarinno lost. Literally. If it would not have been for the disagreement of his stomach in the form of a hunger rumble he might have stayed there and attempted for a few more hours of slumber until the day burned the fog off; but his stomach protested loudly — loud enough to alert anyone with exceptional hearing to his presence despite that the barren tree he'd curled under, draped with thick cascades of moss hadn't hid him well enough. If there was one advantage to the fog, his monotone colored coat might have offered him a little camouflage in the thickness of the fog. 


Unfortunately, such a silver lining was thin and easily broken as it meant he would have trouble hunting. Artaxias spent the next hour searching for a trail, though what he came upon was the abandoned carcass of a elk; a lucky find if there was one. Artaxias erred to the side of caution, however, and sniffed intently at it, inhaling the sickly sweet scent of decay as attempted to determine if there would be another wolf, or something bigger that had claimed it. The scents upon it were faded and the kill was cold and stiff to his touch when he pressed a large paw against a half torn apart flank. The urge to turn his nose up at it was strong — he was a man that deffered to fresh meat — but beggars couldn't be choosers, Sveinx had always insisted and his survival instinct kicked in pushing him to take a toughened strip of flesh and then another, intent on getting his fill.

the boy was ranging farther these days, perhaps to his own detriment. today, however, the saccharine fragrance of high-meat had drawn him down a specific path during his exploration and wanderings. the long-legged child, lanky with adolescence and the form of an adult body not yet filled out, trotted in the direction of the interesting scent, his belly churning alternately with hunger and nausea, Casmir mounted a rise and peered through the fog.

broad paws braced against the carcass of a ruminant; he could see little more of his unknown companion. innate caution wisely slowed his steps; this was a wolf he did not know, and a grown male at that, he came to discover through the conscientious flare of his nostrils.

but the meat beckoned him; he licked back dripping saliva and lifted his tail in a single wag. "Hi...?" he called hopefully through the fog, childish naivete insisting he would make another friend today. 

Artaxias continued in his deign to fill his belly, tearing eagerly at what the carcass had left to offer him that had not previously been eaten or picked away. The flies were bothersome and he flicked them away with his tail and ears as they buzzed around him, probably annoyed that he was eating away their food source. In the spectrum of things, they meant nothing to him and so their survival was of no concern to him. The sound of footfalls did not go unnoticed by Artaxias as he ate but he could not determine an exact pin point, and thus a direction that they were falling in. The fog created many illusions, and for all he knew the other creature could be miles away, the sound carried. 

It turned out that this was not the case, as a hopeful greeting cut through the previous silence, the voice that carried it sounding ...boyish. Young. Not yet hit his puberty. Aratxias swallowed the mouthful of elk he had been chewing, licked his lips and turned to face whom he presumed to be the owner of the voice that had beckoned out to him. Fiery eyes took in the boy: tall but gangly, young. Old enough to be out here on his own but perhaps not old enough to garner the confidence that came with experience — or so Artaxias assumed. 

“Hey,” The Kesuk-DiSarinno greeted him in return, unable but to help the very adult 'where are you parents?' question from snaking into his mind. “Hungry?” Artaxias inquired and stepped to the side, gesturing to the carcass with his muzzle. He'd eaten his fill, or rather as much of decaying meat as he could personally stomach without being entirely grossed out by the concept. Besides, it hadn't been Artaxias' kill anyway so therefore he felt no possession over it. Seizing the opportunity when it arose he sniffed subtly in the younger male's direction, deciphering that he wore a heavy pack scent though which pack the pariah didn't know. He'd only just arrive and had more pressing concerns regarding himself then to be checking out every pack that held a claim in the Valley (though truly he had no idea just how many packs there were).

had Casmir been older, he would seen the offer as suspicious, or perhaps not approached at all. as it were, he was a trusting and impressionable youth; he nodded eagerly and stepped to the haunch, settling down with ears pinned back in the same air of deference he gave to dante when the alpha was at a kill. when he had eaten his fill, the boy stepped back and licked blood from his jaws. "I'm Casmir Mayfair!" he hooted in the direction of his new 'friend.' "i live at Blacktail Deer Plateau,"[/b he offered with all the cheeriness of a child's repetition.

ears thrust forward in the man's direction. [b]"what is your name? where do you live? did you kill this all by YASELF?!" he exclaimed excitedly. [/b]