There was a snap accompanied by the clanging of metal clashing and a yelp from a beast which toppled into the deep blanket of snow. It squirmed and whimpered, nibbling at the bear trap uselessly while the sun slowly sank behind the mountains and shadows bathed the valley. In the instant that it had closed around his leg it shed a modest amount of blood but as the hours passed it gathered on the injured limb and pooled gradually beneath the creature.
But the 'wolf' who was caught was alone for a reason. Perhaps five minutes into the torment that the mechanism imposed its shape changed, stretching while bones cracked and muscles relocated. The pained whining became the groaning and whimpering of a boy who only had a few more seasons until adulthood. In the snare the change was awful and caused more tearing of the muscle in the leg. Still, it was a gamble the now nude boy (covered only by a pelt with similar markings to the form he had moments before) was willing to take.
With desperation and impatience he pried at the jaws of the trap, hands shaking as the cold began setting in. He messed with each individual part of it, trying to find any means by which to unlock its maw before night came. There was already an incredibly large risk that some sort of predator might catch the scent of blood on the wind or that the trapper may return but there was an even greater chance of death at the hands of a lazy predator once the stars showed.
It was no use. A normal man might understand how to unlock it but he lacked the education. The beast risked shifting back, once again feeling the muscles rip under the trap's teeth. All he could do was wait, then.
A pack howled somewhere nearby, causing the loner to stiffen, eyes on the horizon and body low to the ground.
Snow had begun to drift lazily down from the sky. Many of the tiny snowflakes seemed to disappear before reappearing, dotting the grey and brown fur mantle that draped over the shoulders of a tall and slender figure. The stranger appeared to be a young man in his late teens, his body whipcord thin and clad in thick, mottled grey leathers. The hood of his cloak was drawn up around his neck, but did not cover the crown of his head. The furs licked at the curves of his ears, and brushed along a narrow, dark-skinned jaw. Tied up behind his head was a silver tail of hair that fell beneath the security of his cloak, as straight as steel pins, albeit somewhat messy.
He had been marching for some time, exploring the area around his camp for fallen wood, or anything else that could be of use in this desolate place. He shivered, having no fondness of the cold, and wandered further through the wilderness.
Suddenly, the silence of the clearing was shattered by the not-so-distant sound of metal on metal. The figure raised their head to listen, catching what sounded like a cry of pain that was nearly hidden completely by a brief and heavy gust. The young man lifted a hand to his face and brushed back a mess of silver before moving forward at a faster pace - that sounded like a trap - and where there was a trap sprung, there was likely to be food.
By the time the stranger reached his destination the figure had already returned to the form of a wolf, lying under a small evergreen while waiting for something to happen. The leg was caught awkwardly in the trap and if that didn't make his presence obvious the blood that stained both the lifted limb and the trap most certainly did.
Should the newcomer approach, though, he'd be quickly noticed. And should he be noticed he'd be greeted with an oh-so-welcoming snarl accompanied by a threatening growl.
He stepped into the clearing, catching sight of the injured wolf almost immediately. Two hands rose in the air in front of him, in the universal gesture of 'peace' - or, as some would put it, 'calm down!'. The young man glanced down at the wolves mangled leg, a corner of his lips twitching downwards very briefly. He steeled himself, shoulders tensing as he stepped forward towards the trap tentatively. The stranger didn't speak, instead uttering a small, low sound that spilled from the back of his throat - likely in an attempt to try and soothe the beast.
Unfortunately the man's attempts at calming the beast had no effect. When he stepped within range the wolf lunged (luckily without really aiming at a specific body part), barking angrily as he moved before whimpering at the jolt of pain that ran up his leg. The seconds of hesitation thanks to the pain allowed the trapped creature to realize something particularly odd about this specific human.
Why, that's not a man at all!
That bit of information was hardly relevant to the bleeding animal, however. He continued to snarl, growl and do all the unpleasant things that came with being too close to a stranger.
The so-called man froze as she was lunged for, stepping aside at just the last second - just quickly enough to avoid being bit. At the sound of the beasts whimpering, she paused and moved forward, still, hands shown with palms facing out. Her movements were calm and slow, tentative in approaching the angry wolf... and with good reason!
She stopped when she got within his reach, kneeling down in the snow slowly and making a small sound in the back of her throat. She extended her hands - clad in leather armor, though they were - for inspection. The action itself would have been mad, if not for the armor she wore!
Her eyes lowered down to glance at the leg once more, instinctively, before focusing on the beast. She remained still and calm while he snarled and growled, not wanting to aggravate him further.
The wolf continued to growl at the newcomer for a while after the first lunge, the sound growing more intense as her hands reached down to inspect the leg and trap. He didn't make another move to attack, however, soon allowing the warnings to taper off into mournful whimpering. It was odd behavior for a wild animal.
Then, quickly enough to be misinterpreted as a lunge the beast brought its head back to sniff thoroughly at the human's hands.
The unusually reckless woman's expression flinched as the wolf dove forward again, bracing herself... only to see the beast begin to sniff at her hands. She allowed this for a time, only raising a hand towards him after she felt she had been inspected most thoroughly.
If allowed to, she would attempt to place the leather clad hand atop his head.
The whimpering continued for a time until the stranger placed a hand on the wolf's head. Then the threatening snarl returned and he licked his chops, not bothering to growl bot fixing his eyes on the hand. Otherwise he grew tense, aware of the severity of the situation but unwilling to show extensive signs of complacency when the human was so close.
The beast's tail wove through the snow, tucking itself between his hind legs. The creature's ears drew back and his eyes remained wide.
The wandering stranger stroked his head gently with one hand, slowly reaching for a bag that hung at her hip, beneath her cloak. As she lifted the heavy furs, she could feel a chill beginning to settle into her - so quickly! The boyish woman rummaged inside the bag for a moment and pulled out a sizeable roll of leather that seemed to have something wrapped inside of it.
As the stranger produced the roll of leather the tail withdrew itself again and started smacking against the snowy ground. The wolf's growling shifted in nature and he shifted his attention directly to the leather, leaning in to try and take it with his teeth. The petting was apparently tolerated though tension still held most of his body.
She shifted in the snow, allowing him to get closer to the leather, but not to immediately take it. She unfolded it across the ground, revealing a set of neatly oiled tools that sparkled faintly in the dimming light. She would need to hurry. The armored woman looked down at the trap, her hand slowing in it's petting as she tried to move around the wolf and get a better look at the injury. She grimaced faintly and reached out to touch the device, presumably to continue her inspection of the trap.
Ouch.
This action was met with more of that odd manner of growling. The wolf leaned toward the unfolded leather and small objects it concealed, sticking out his tongue to try and grab at one of the tools while they glinted 'temptingly'.
The woman seemed preoccupied with the study of the trap - however, as the wolf attempted to claim one of the tools, she placed her free hand over the leather book. For a brief moment, it seemed as though she may simply have had eyes in the back of her head, but this was not so (at least, not so far as anyone could tell!). The androgynous stranger quickly collected one of the larger, glinting tools in her palm, and rolled two of the smaller ones between her fingers before drawing the hand away once more and setting to work on the mechanism.
From the moment her fingertips had grazed the steel of the device, it almost seemed as though she had disappeared into another world.
While the newcomer worked on the trap the wolf remained entirely disinterested, still licking in the general direction of the leather and tools. He lapped up small piles of snow in the process, trying to clench the corner of the bundle between his teeth but being just out of reach.
Even gloved as they were, the woman's fingers were quick and nimble. She rested one of the smaller tools on a leg as she worked to loosen the bolts at the sides of the trap, her head bowed down close to the device. She worked with the precision of a professional - shifting out between use of the tools as easily as breathing. Well, it were almost so simple. It took a bit of force - the frost had worked it's way against the metal and was stubborn in it's refusal to move - but after a minor struggle with the screws, she managed to pop them loose one after the other.
The silver-haired stranger collected her tools and tossed them on to the leather roll quickly then, trying to grab two metal bars with gently sloped hooks on one end. Reaching forward, she attempted to lock both of the bars on either side of the trap, hooking them between it's wicked steel teeth. With a small grunt, she pressed, making sure that both poles were in the proper position to pry the jaws apart.
The futile process of reaching for the leather continued so long as the woman worked on the trap; up until the point where the bars were used to pry the jaws apart. As the teeth left the wound blood continued to pour out steadily and the wolf yelped loudly, forgetting his earlier objective in order to spin back on the stranger.
He was about to attack but, upon seeing the trap open, the beast relented and attempted to stand immediately. This did not go very well; he got on his feet only to fall to the side out of dizziness with a disgruntled growl.
The woman held the device as he moved, just to be certain that no accident occurred that could fully claim the beasts leg. The moment he was free, however, she used one of the larger bars to trigger the trap again, causing metal to clamp down on metal, and rendering it useless. With a sound of disgust, she yanked the bar from out of it's jaws, quickly packing up the objects and rolling them into the leather. She lifted her head, moments after the wolf collapsed in the snow. Quickly, she bound the leather together, tying it shut and shoving the small collection back into the bag beneath her armor. She didn't waste any time deliberating before approaching the wild creature, one hand still lingering beneath her cloak as she collected something.
Her spare hand lifted once more, and the woman made small calming sounds as she tried to approach the beast.
The beast was too tired to do anything but lift his head somewhat. He sniffed at the hands which grew close again before trying to rise again. He was slower about it this time but would ultimately fail if he did not have some sort of assistance.
The woman moved forward, then, until she sat near him in the snow so that she might support him as he tried to rise. She was gentle with the beast, one hand stroking at his back as she tried to get a look at his wound - a task which was much simpler now that it didn't have a trap closed about it.
The stranger was able to support the beast with no resistance beyond an irritated, quivering growl. He leaned on the woman rather heavily while trying to fight dizziness, bowing his head notably and drooling slightly. The leg was bent so that it wouldn't touch the ground and blood continue dribbling down it, dropping off of claws and tufts of fur.
Gently, she withdrew the object she had reached for from within the confines of her cloak - a moderately sized square of cloth, likely for the polishing of tools or for use as a towel. However, this was not to be it's purpose today. The woman cradled the beast against her, grimacing faintly at the drool, although her focus was elsewhere. She reached down, shifting a bit as she worked to try and bind up the injury with the cloth. She wrapped the material around the break and the fur, careful to put pressure only where needed - it wasn't a splint, but it was the best she could do on such short notice. After tying off the injury, she reached up to pet the wolf once more, scratching him lightly behind the ears as she fell into thought.
"How are we going to get you to camp?" She mused aloud, her voice as quiet and low as a whisper.
The creature snorted as her hand moved over his ear, briefly pausing in panting to lean towards it slightly while he was being scratched. The beast otherwise squirmed, trying to step away once the splint was done. The object on his foot struck him as very confusing and, whether successful in escaping or not, he'd reach back and try to sniff or gnaw at it.
The woman continued to scratch his ear, petting him carefully and thoughtfully. As he tried to pull away to mess with the bindings, she continued to stay close enough to support him as much as she could. When he began to reach back for his bindings, she tried to coax him into turning his head away by scratching him beneath the jaw and running her fingers through the fur at the top of his head. There's a good pup, she thought, bemusedly.
As fun as this all was, however, dark was falling.
Luckily for the woman the distraction was successful. The animal turned away from the binding, awkwardly limping along and occasionally resisting out of further nervousness. He was surprisingly flexible for a hardened beast of the north.
The strange woman continued to lavish affection on him, although every so often she made to pause in an attempt to help him further along. She glanced down the path she had come, darkness settling heavier in the trees around them, and frowned. Both she and her unexpected companion would need to hurry if they wanted to reach shelter before night fell.
Armored hands attempted to guide and comfort the beast, cautious of his injury. Her stomach rumbled.
I hope we reach camp soon.
It seemed that, between the distance they had to travel and the wolf's constant pausing it would be miraculous to reach the camp before nightfall. The pack some ways away began howling again, the chorus of cries lasting for a few minutes before finally dying down. The stars and northern lights were out in full swing this night, unfortunately doing nothing to illuminate the snowy ground below.
Somehow, they managed to reach the camp on the very brink of nighttime. The wolf grew curious of the small settlement but was far too weary to thoroughly explore it. That didn't stop him from sneaking in the smallest inspections of eyes, nose and tongue upon objects that were close enough.
The woman didn't stop him from inspecting what he could, leading him patiently and carefully into the safety of her tent. Once there, she searched around the pelt-covered floor for her tinderbox, collecting the tin in her hands and working around in the dark until she produced light with the aid of fire and lantern. The golden glow bloomed from within the glass, filling the small enclosure with light. The woman shrugged off her cloak, the fur mantle and heavy material falling to the ground with a sound like a sigh.
She moved around, allowing the wolf to inspect the tent as he would, knowing that she had kept anything valuable hidden away in the bags she carried with her on her person. Finally in the safety of her camp, she leaned back, sighing, and took a moment to deliberate.
Dinner, she realized. I'll need a... fire. In spite of her thoughts, however, sleep was already beginning to pull at her mind, trying to drag it into the realm of the unconscious.
The wolf made it into the tent but not far beyond that. After some exploring the beast slumped back onto its side, curling up into a corner and resting his head on the ground. His size compared to the tent's made the vision potentially amusing; despite residing in a corner he took up quite a bit of the tent.
The weary woman paused, staring out at the darkening evening through a slit in the tent flap. She seemed to lose focus, her head dipping forward low for almost a full minute before she jerked herself awake, shaking her head. No, there was absolutely no way she'd be able to start a fire, cook, and then bank it tonight. Still, her stomach complained, and she crawled back further into the tent, trying not to disturb the large beast she had taken in.
She spared a thoughtful glance at the enormous wolf as she knelt forward over a sturdy bag resting along the ground. With a careless hand, she knocked back the bag's flap and rummaged through it's contents, retrieving something wrapped in brown paper that made a loud crumpling sound when handled. The object smelled odd and faintly meaty, although the potency of the scent was dulled, and somewhat different than that of fresh meat.
Despite the lack of potency in the meat's smell the wolf was aware of it as soon as she withdrew it. The 'wild' animal didn't make a move to take it immediately but did fix his unlikely friend a very specific look. There was no snarling or lunging or tail wagging, just the look.
With one hand, she unfolded the package and sat down, removing a large hunk of dried meat. She lifted it in the air briefly and tossed it the short distance over to him, so that it would likely land on the ground before his paws. She claimed a smaller piece of jerky from the parcel and bound the rest up, replacing it in her bag.
The silver-haired woman chose then to sit down and gnaw on her piece of meat. Gods, she was exhausted.
The beast she took in didn't hesitate to bite into it as soon as it fell, lifting his head back and chewing on it for a long period of time. Sure, it was a bit odd for meat, but it still tasted relatively well. As a wolf, he didn't have many taste buds to tell the difference in the first place.
She chewed on the tough meat, shifting back to try and find a place to relax and finding only wolf. With the bit of jerky clenched between her teeth, she crawled back along the ground and casually leaned back against the enormous beastie as though this were a perfectly normal activity.
Considering that the woman had given the large animal food, her leaning against him no longer made him tense. However he did tilt his head in the effort to reach the meat she was eating after he was done. Greedy son of a gun.
The young, silver haired woman tore off a hunk of the meat with her teeth, her cheeks puffing out as she stared at the large wolf's face. She drew herself back away from his mouth, trying to glare at him. The harsh look was admittedly dulled by the fact that she was doing a remarkable impression of a chipmunk at the moment, and he a great beast of the tundra!
The animal simply stared at the meat as it was moved away, licking his lips and slightly wagging his tail as she shot him a glower. He growled and rested his head on the ground again, giving up on his attempts at taking the other chunk of dried meat. There was something to be said for the beast's flexibility, still. Just a small while before he was threatening to kill the woman.
She swallowed, looking down at the disgruntled beast and hesitated for a long moment. Finally, with a sigh of resignation, she handed over the remaining portion of her meal. Her eyelids felt heavy, and his fur was so warm.. She shifted against his form, trying to stay awake. The meat was pinched precariously between her thumb and fore finger.
"On on and take it, furball. It's yours."
By the time she spoke to the beast his head was already lifted and his tongue lapped at the remaining food in her hand. Assuming she stuck to her word he'd gnaw on the meat for a small while before swallowing and putting his head down once again.
As soon as her unusual companion had taken the food, she began to relax. The armored woman's form sank slowly against him, her arms dropping into her lap like weights. She didn't make a sound as she drew her legs up closer to her torso, her head dropping down to meet them. Shutting her eyes, she began to drift off to sleep, even as he finished eating the small meal.
The food was consumed quickly and the wounded animal returned his head to the ground a third time. He shifted without paying thought to the woman slowly falling asleep on him, the beast's tail curling up around his tucked-in legs. Once he was comfortable the creature licked at his nose quietly and shut his eyes; there wasn't much that he could do other than sleep at that point, either.
Stirring groggily from her slumber, the woman reached for the lantern at her hip. A small click was followed by another, and soon the last light within the tent was snuffed out. Then, darkness fell like a blanket over the small camp, covering everything in nightfall.
---
Morning broke over the horizon, drawing light through the snow like thread through a tapestry of white. While the two had slept, a small storm had blown over their encampment, whisking away any traces of their footsteps, and coating the small fire pit with frost.
The young woman twitched in her sleep, her body turned so that her face and forearms were tucked against the beast's fuzzy stomach. She was curled up, nestled deep in the furs - both matting, and otherwise - and yet shivered, still. It was not, however, the cold that awoke her, but instead a most peculiar cry from outside of their tent.
Bolting upright, the woman immediately reached for a hunting knife that was strapped to her upper thigh. Her hair was still awry from sleep, sticking up here-and-there as she lowered her body further against ground and beast, to eye the door.
The noise from outside was successful in waking the beast as well. What was once a relaxed, tired beast became tense and angry due to the interruption of his rest. Two frosty eyes lingered on the door and he snarled quietly. Somehow, he had the knowledge that growling so early into discovering a disturbance nearby was perhaps not the best idea.
Quiet though the beast may have been, whatever lurked beyond the tent was not quite so clever - or, at the very least, less than aware of it's surroundings. There was much kicking and rumpus in the snow outside, accompanied by the occasional whine and grumble. The sound from earlier was not unlike the disgruntled cry of some large bird - perhaps it was a beast of prey that had injured a wing, and fallen somewhere outside of the tent? A loud clang sounded throughout the clearing, followed by several smaller clangs and shuffling, all that indicated that whatever it was - or whoever it was - had discovered the cooking pot that the tall woman had left out the night before.
Slinking forward along the ground, the androgynous humanoid crept to the flap of the tent, pausing for a moment before peering out through the slit in the material. Outside, the sound continued on, until a loud thump could be heard in the snow, followed by the rapid crunching of ice and another thud.
"'Allo?" A voice cried, shaky, young, and clearly masculine. "S' any 'un 'round 'ere? I could - ah! - use a lil'... elp'..." The words trailed off as another crash could be heard through the thick canvas of the tent. "...Mama always di' say tha' folks shouln' talk t' 'emselves. Made 'em look awful lonely... ah-ah--!"
Without any warning other than his cry of surprise, a figure toppled back through the flap of the tent, landing flat on his back. His eyes were worked shut, tight, and his freckled nose wrinkled back. For all intensive purposes he looked, smelled, sounded, and acted like a young human boy. But then, why would he be in the tundra, of all places?
As soon as the boy was in sight the wolf climbed to his feet and made his way over hastily, growling loudly and licking his bared fangs threateningly. The fur on the beast's back rose as he realized that his leg was still injured but the splint helped to control the motions of the broken leg. Besides, he had three others he could use just fine.
The woman began to draw her knife, but slowed her motions, glancing back towards the wolf as he approached. After a brief moment of deliberation, she withdrew it completely, suddenly pinning the boy down so that he couldn't hope to move, unless he wised to fight her. The silver-haired woman pressed the blade close to his throat.
The sudden chill of steel against his neck startled the young mans eyes opened, and he pressed his body further back against the ground, a hitch suddenly rising in his lungs. Terror seemed to grip him then, and so she choose that moment to speak. "Explain yourself."
There was a pause as the human stared back into her face, and slowly, his lips parted, almost unsure.
"Err... ah.. M' sorry, missus, but fill-hosso-phee ain't 'xactly m' strong-sui--" The knife pressed further against his throat. "Aup, aup--" he swallowed, hard, "Me ma' always tol' me it wasn' nice ta' thre'ttn strangers! Per-" His eyes lowered to the knife, "-haps, we coul'... you coul'.. ask.." Sweat was beading on his forehead, in spite of the chilly morning.
"Why are you in my tent?" She spoke at last, enunciating each word clearly, although no trace of humor or pride slipped into her words. The last syllable turning into a growl.
The man blinked, stammering for a good while before blurting out: "I wa-wa-- I wa' lost!" Color was beginning to flood his face and he squirmed uncomfortably beneath his captor. "Jus' lookin for sum d'rections, back ta' town - I'll be outta yer hair in no time, swearsies! Or, er, iffin'... I mean, techhinacly, it'll ta' sum ti--" She tightened her grip on the blade. "--Thas' awful rude!"
The fur of the tundra beast stood on end an drool accumulated in sleep dribbled down sharp, yellow fangs. The wolf was more ready to tear the stranger apart than the woman who had a blade to his throat. After a small while of the boy's talking the creature barked angrily. Meanwhile, the leg in the splint remained held in the air.
The boys eyes slid from the knife, to the enormous wolf, and back to the knife. He repeated this gesture several times before swallowing nervously, his jaw and shoulders drawn back as though that could help him avoid the sharp sting of the knife. "I..I swur! I ain't go... I didn' mean no 'arm!" A small tendril of snot began to run down from out of his red nose, and he sniffled. The woman glowered down at him and then looked to the tent entrance in suspicion. She strained her ears for any sound that might have eluded her, beneath the ruckus he had been making earlier.
She shot a look back down at the boy, and his entire body seemed to wince, his eyes shutting tightly once more. Her grip on the knife tightened briefly, and then she pulled away from him, moving and sheathing her knife in one fluid motion. Impatiently, she stepped over the quivering boy, and tried to approach her canine companion, tentatively reaching out towards him with both hands and making a low, quiet sound.
The small intruder continued to tremble, seeming not to have noticed. Perhaps he wasn't the brightest apple in the bunch.
While the woman approached the animal's snarl softened and his eyes diverted from the small, quivering boy to her. When the gap was closed the canine averted his gaze and stopped growling altogether, licking his nose and staring back at the intruder quietly. Then the wolf rumbled uncomfortably, not really knowing what to make of the newcomer.
The silver haired woman stopped in her tracks and stared at the wolf, lifting a hand to run her fingers through her disheveled bangs. With a quiet sigh, she stepped forward and reached out to pet her large friend gently, glancing back at the terrified boy. She let him cower there for a moment, which he took every second of, before opening his eyes. The moment he seemed to realize he was fine, however, every trace of fear seemed to fall away and immediately be replaced with jovial ease.
"T'is a nice place ya' got 'ere! Oops, sorry, m' ma always said tha' it wasn' polite ta' ferget yer 'pleases' and 'thankyas'. Say, thankya!" He scratched at what was either awkward stubble, or some manner of alien growth on his chin, covered in scattered patches of dirt that seemed to cover his face. Suddenly, he snapped a finger in the air. "Righ, righ, righ. Gots ta' int'ro-doos m'self." The youngling cleared his throat and looked over at woman and beast, bobbing his head rapidly, with a grin. He jabbed one grubby thumb towards his chest, the gloves he wore frayed at the tips.
"Folks call m' Fetter!" He then extended that same hand to the wolf and the sharp-eyed stranger, chipper as ever. The woman's gaze slowly panned down to his hand, where she continued to stare at him as though he'd just offered her a collection of squirming eels.
He waved the hand in the air for a moment as she watched him, and began to laugh in a surprisingly genuine fashion. The laughter dwindled to chuckling, and he finally stopped waving the hand in the air to step forward towards the wolf with all the caution of a rock.
Fetter's rambling didn't do much to move the beast in one way or another but his eventual approach set the creature on edge. His fur stood on end and the snarl returned, his thin tongue occasionally slipping out to lick at his bared fangs. The wolf did not attempt to growl this time; his eyes were on the boy and he knew the visual display was enough of a warning.
The silver-haired woman warily remained close to the wolf, one hand lingering among his fur as she watched the boy approach. Fetter, for all of his cowering earlier, seemed completely oblivious of the danger of nearing an aggressive beast. His movements seemed to slow, and he reached into a decent-sized satchel clasped to his hip. The flap of the bag flopped up awkwardly against his forearm as he rummaged around, speaking so quickly that most of what he said was unintelligible.
"..An' so's I said t'her: 'tha' leaves're tha' best part!' n' she were all, 'Fet, boyo, yer outta yer bloomin' mind! Anywhoodle, this is fer ya, pretty beastie that ya are. Skip seemed ta like tha taste o' it quite a bit, though 'e'll eat anythin out o' tha' kitchens-- Awful nice set'a teeth ya got there, yes ya do!"
He withdrew his hand from the satchel at his side, a rather large hunk of some kind of meat clasped inside of it. The woman's eyes were drawn to his hand as he approached, half expecting the dire wolf to take it off of his arm at any moment. Curiously, she noted, the lads knuckles were very, very hairy. Unusually so, for a boy of his apparent age.
"C'mon, sweet thing, that's a good girl.. boy? I wont hurt ya or yer missus, none. Eh heh."
The animal continued to grimace, leaning forward cautiously to sniff at the meat. His ears perked up after a few seconds and he gingerly took the meat from Fetter. If the humans didn't knock off all of this feeding soon, the wolf would be thoroughly attached to them. Before eating it the creature backed up, lying down as to relieve itself of balancing on three legs.
Then it chewed loudly and contentedly, perhaps even forgetting that the boy was even there. While eating, it whined oddly, finishing the food in a short period of time before continuing to whine at them. It wasn't pleading or agitated, almost as though it was attempting to have a conversation with them.
Fetter placed his hands on his hips, beaming at the wolf cheerily, and seeming about as pleased with himself as a child in a sweets shop. The silver-haired woman looked between both him and the injured beast, the glances coming and going with a sluggish acceptance that eventually rested itself on Fetter's face.
"... hasn't anyone ever told you not to feed wild animals?" She asked, dryly.
The boy perked up at the mention of his name, turning his attention back to her. His grin faltered, and then returned just as quickly. "Wot - e's not your pet? I don't suppose 'e could be... wait!" He squinted at her, the gears turning in his head slowly. "...you're makin right fun of me, y'are! He's yours, righ'? Righ?"
The woman sighed and shook her head, turning around to kneel before the satchel she had checked the night before, before falling asleep.
"C'mon, thas no fair!" He whined, the smile still lingering on the edges of his mouth. "... kor! Dun' tell me... e's one o' them... fairy folk, iss'e?"
She continued to rummage through the bag, collecting a thick roll of roughly-woven bandages and looking them over thoughtfully.
"'E is, ain't e! Oooh, boy, I shoulda' known! E's 'uge! Thas' no normal wo-- wai, iffin' e's na' a wolf, wha' shoul I call 'im? Nancy? Na', na', thas a girls name... Jules! How'dya like the name Jules?" He chattered amicably at the wolf, pausing and laughing whenever he'd whine, if he did.
The armored woman sighed and shut the bag, shuffling over towards the wolf and crouching down once more, trying to get a better look at his injured leg.
"...'or 'owabout... Dragon slayer! ...na? Fangshide! ...Shelby? Nah, y'don't look like a Shelby t'me."
The woman groaned, quietly.
Not understanding a single thing the boy was saying the wolf continued to whine, eventually barking as he was listing names. Then the creature's attention was diverted to the woman who was inspecting his leg. It wasn't any worse than yesterday but it was impossible to see how much it healed. Couldn't have been by much, right?
As she knelt down to inspect the leg, she froze, her hand stilling above the injury. Her eyes widened and she unwrapped the bloody bandage a little quickly, still careful of hurting the wolf. She lifted her free hand up to her mouth, letting the bandages drop into her lap quietly. Nearby, Fetter continued to chat amicably at no one in particular, seeming happier each time the wolf barked.
The armored stranger placed a hand above the break, her eyes never leaving it.
The wound had healed rapidly overnight. What was once a gaping wound was now merely a small series of scabs while the leg itself did not seem to move out of place at all. It was a clear indication that the bone had already partially healed. Even so, there was still some of the injury present but it was clean and without any form of infection.
The wolf was oblivious of the woman's findings, barking more at Fetter as he grew more excited.
The strange woman remained silent, dropping the hand from her mouth at last. Without a word, she unwound the roll of bandages and began to rebind the injury, careful to ensure it wasn't too loose or too tight. Meanwhile, Fetter had begun to bark back at the wolf, occasionally letting loose a mildly convincing howl - you know, for a human, that is.
The woman's left eyebrow began to twitch.
The wolf turned his head briefly to look at the woman as she bound the injury once again. His ears flicked back and soon after he returned to growling and barking at the boy. There was a strain in the beast's voice that suggested he was just as annoyed as the girl about Fetter's constant ramblings.
Whether it be by luck or some small misfortune, Fetter's almost one-sided conversation soon deteriorated into a fit of cheery laughter. The woman continued to work, pausing only once to look up at the wolf. The glance was brief, some of the irritation creeping into her eyes, but not the rest of her face. She turned back to the chore in front of her, finishing it up in no time at all. With deft fingers, she tore the binding where it ended beyond his leg, wrapping and tying the roll up so that it would not come unravelled in her bag. Then, she flicked it behind her, sending the dwindling supply in with the rest of her things.
'..if he doesn't stop...' She thought inwardly, sitting up and rolling her shoulders back with a small pop as her eyes found the laughing boy. '..No.'
The aforementioned boy continued to laugh nearby, greatly amused by the sounds of the large beast. His eyes were shut with laughter, small tears pricking at the edges. Without much warning, and apparently no indicators to the child, something smacked the boy in the side of the face.
Fetter stopped laughing almost immediately, glancing down at the object and trying to pick it up. The item in question seemed to be a sturdy scroll of yellowed paper. Curiosity caught his tongue and he squinted, turned it about in his hands, and looked it over.
"...It's a map." The woman spoke curtly, and was next to him. The boy jumped briefly, but hardly seemed to notice it. "Oh! O'righ, righ'. Haha, gotta bit carried 'way, I did."
The silver-haired woman watched him with a speculative eye as the boy plucked at the leather tie with the tips of his fingers, never quite trying to open the thing.
"Eh heheh.. heh." He chuckled nervously.
With a sigh, the woman reached over and snatched the object from his hands, unrolling it into her palm and shoving it back into his lap with the soft crinkle of worn parchment. "Here." She pointed at a mostly unmarked region on the map.
"This is us." She spoke plainly, then dragged her finger across the wrinkled surface. "... This is your village, isn't it?" Her tone was matter-of-fact, sounding more like a statement than a question. The boy perked up, light filling his eyes with astonishment and simple joy. "Oi! How'd ye do tha'? I didn't tell ya were I come from!"
She lifted a hand slowly, to rub at the place between her eyes.
"It's the closest place nearby."
"Brill'ant!"
"Brilliant."
"Wot?"
The armor clad woman stared at him blankly for a moment, and he returned her look with a confused one of her own. She stood up abruptly, allowing the map to pop back into an awkward roll, and grabbed the boys shoulder. He flashed his teeth in a startled grimace as he was yanked to his feet and brushed off. "Good, good!" She said, her voice still as calm as before. "You look like you're in fit shape. Strong boy." Fetter slowly began to smile again, although that confusion still remained in his eyes, paired with a kind of nervous uncertainty. "Uh, miss-"
"Do you know how to read the stars?"
"Well, sorta, bu'-"
"Good, good... clever, too. Perfect."
"Miss, I-"
As he was finishing his sentence, the woman pushed him out the door of the tent, where he stumbled in the bright light of morning. He turned back to look at her, his mousy brown hair amess and his expression not unlike that of a kicked puppy. "--I--"
"You'll be fine."
"I, ah -" He seemed to remember himself and dropped into a quick bow, followed by another one, just for good measure. "Thank ya! Thank ya both, real kindly. I..I'll jus' be off, then! Ma' always said t'wasn't right ta' hang 'round when there wa' work to be done, eh heh!" He slowly backed off, as though looking for an excuse to stay, and then glanced two-and-fro for a moment as he tried to get his bearings.
"Your map."
"Righ'! Righ'." He looked down at the object and fumbled for a bit, unfolding the large thing upside down and beginning to wander off.
Unfortunately for the woman the fun session was far from over. As they spoke the wolf peered up at them quietly, waiting for some form of action to take place. So when Fetter began walking off the beast was inclined to follow him. The animal limped along carelessly, rumbling a bit as he viewed the parchment upside down.
Something clicked for the wolf. It tried to stop the boy by nipping at his pants gently. Whether or not it worked he kept up, up on his hind legs and changing.
While the transformation itself took place in a matter of seconds and the visual was fluid the sounds of bones cracking and moving were loud. A pale arm reached forward while the other slung around the boy's shoulder, reaching to flip the map quickly. Then its index finger trailed over the spot the woman designated.
The wolf-man hummed simply, not seeming fazed at all by the fact that he was naked in the middle of the tundra. His pelt was around his shoulders, leaving everything else hanging in the open.
Have fun, Fetter. Have fun.
The woman peered outside of the tent flap for a moment as Fetter walked away, turning to enter the tent seconds after, only to run into the enormous wolf as he made his way after the boy. She wobbled a bit before righting herself and glancing back over to the two.
Fetter had managed a few steps in the snow by the time the wolf began to nip at his pants. He laughed cheerfully, meandering forward in spite of the beasts protests. "Stappit'," he chided, no trace of command in his voice, "Stapp!" The request seemed to get through to the large tundra creature, and the boy continued on, glancing about towards the line of the forest until an arm shot out before him and righted the map in his hands.
"Uhwuh --" He blurted out gracelessly, nearly dropping the map at the sight of the sudden (very bare) masculine limb in front of him. He halted, the gears of his mind turning slowly before at last coming to a realization - 'Thas' na' a girl arm!' his thoughts protested, but his hands moved of their own accord. He collected the map, squinting at it thoughtfully, at last able to decipher the map now that the names didn't appear written in some strange, foreign language. "Ah!" His eyes lit up, warmly, and he turned around in a quick whirl to face the one who had helped him.
"Thankee kindly, sir, I--" his gaze dipped down suddenly, eyes growing to near the size of dinner plates. "Whu- uh - huh - Golly, sir, yer missus must be a 'appy lady!" He caught himself a moment too late, babbling rapidly and tearing his gaze away from the goods. " -- Erp, 'scuse me, I been awful rude - Ma' always told me t'wasn't right ta' stare! M' sorry!" He dropped into a quick bow, squeezing his eyes shut tight to avoid any unpleasant mishaps while trying to clutch the map to his chest.
Behind the two, the pale haired woman quickly backstepped and closed the flap of the tent, her eyes filled with what could easily be described as 'nope'.
"Nil bjo! Opehscu barat n'gorro." The "wolf" replied happily. Then, as soon as it was done the fellow turned away and proceeded to once again take the form of a beast. The animal trotted back towards the tent, ears perked and eyes wide with curiosity as to why the woman closed the tent. Once reaching the small structure he paused and waited for the woman to show her face agin.
Fetter righted himself as the naked man spoke, blinking as he spoke. He lifted a hand to wave awkwardly at him as he turned to transform and leave. After a moment of staring, he seemed to snap out of whatever spell had held him in it's grasp, and returned to trying to make sense of the map in his hands. Murmuring something under his breath, he began to wander out into the cold, set on finding his way back home.
Back inside of the tent, the woman had sat in the center of her bedroll with her legs crossed neatly. She had pulled the scruff of fur that hung beneath her jaw up over her mouth and ears once more, and hunched where she was, staring directly at the flap of the tent. The flap wasn't fastened shut presently, but the heavier leathers of the makeshift door worked well enough to keep the chill winds out, even so.
If her mind was racing, the mask prevented any indicators. She shifted slightly, halting the whining pangs of one of her feet before she could lose feeling in it. She listened to the sound of conversation outside of her tent, moving very little save for the rise and fall of her chest.
When a moment passed and the woman was unwilling to leave the beast whined quietly and walked back into the tent, nudging the heavy leather flap out of the way with his snout. The beast approached the woman, ears still lifted high as it looked at her.
The woman sat with her back stiff and her legs folded still, her gaze locking on to the beast. The stare was unwavering save for the slightest narrowing of her eyes as the creature approached. She glanced to the side of the massive wolf and sighed, steadily rising to her feet and trying to open the flap behind him to peer back outside.
Without a twinge of hesitation the beast shifted to brush against the woman while she went to look out from the tent. His ears pressed flat against her abdomen as he attempted to sniff her thoroughly, eyes wide with curiosity despite the fact that he had already done this some time recently.
One of the woman's hands hovered mid-air above the beasts head as she peered outside, watching the shape of the boy's retreating back. A thread of footprints trailed out behind him, like a chain connecting him to the small encampment. Once more, the androgynous stranger sighed, allowing the breath to spill out as a cloud in the chilly air.
She lowered the hand, trying to place it atop the head of the wolf as he sniffed her.
'The town is still too close... I'll need to move camp soon, then.'
Whining softly, the beast lapped at her fingertips, trying to pick up any remaining hints of food that still clung to her dark skin. His tail wagged slowly, bumping into her leg as it swayed toward her.
She flexed her fingertips experimentally, allowing the large beast to sniff and lick at them as he pleased. The wanderer withdrew the hand that had been holding the flap open, preventing the release of what little precious warmth the tent still held in. She tried to lift an arm, scratching the wolf behind an ear before moving further into the tent.
She bent to the ground, crouching down in the furs, and began to rummage through her bags as she took stock. They seemed to be doing decently with food, but if things kept up the way they were, she would need to begin hunting in a few days time to prevent using her emergency rations. The young woman then began to pack away what she had withdrawn, leaving a small bundle of wrapped paper that smelled faintly of meat, resting atop her lap.
The wolf moved around his companion, eyes trained upon the bundle. Despite it sitting out in the open the beast showed admirable restraint, glancing occasionally at her after a moment of her packing.
She finished repacking the bag and sat back with a small sigh. Her vision drew towards the large wolf, and she watched him for a moment, one of her hands rising to rest over the parcel. "...You hungry, boy?" She tested, hesitantly.
Her only response was a glance in her direction before all of the animal's attention was returned to the parcel.
The woman snorted quietly and reached out a hand towards the beast, beckoning him closer with small scratches of her fingertips beneath his jaw. Her free hand remained atop the parcel and plucked at the twine that bound the butchers paper shut, unwrapping it with deft motions. When the package was unwrapped, four slabs of salted bears meat rested against leaves bound in the paper. The scent was oddly sweet, as though something else had been kneaded into the pink flesh. Collecting the food in the cradle of an arm, she made to rise to her feet.
The animal did lean in to the woman's hand, rumbling a deep, non-aggressive growl. His eyes persisted on studying the meat, even as he stood back while she rose. Licking his chops, the beast made a garbled sound, stepping around her to settle further back in the tent.
Cold whipped the young woman in the face, drawing strands of silver into her eyes and causing her to wince faintly from discomfort. She lifted a hand and pushed the hair irritably out of her eyes as she strode through the snow.
Her feet carried her to the half-buried fire pit from the night before, snow building up well past her ankles. Sighing once more, she knelt in the frost and began to clear out the pit, scooping large handfuls of snow from the center, and allowing it to pile up just outside of the ring of stones she had lain down. Her fingers touched ash and it collected against her chill fingers strangely as she worked. There was still wood left from the night before, and stupidly she had chosen to leave her tinder box out aside the fire in her distraction. She leaned forwards, the leather of her armor groaning as she gathered her tools, and set to work building the fire, sending a small prayer heavenward that the tinder had not been wetted.
A small while later, the fire had risen beneath the logs, licking at the knotted wood and spitting small sparks into the air with pleasure. The woman had once again erected the rotisserie that had been knocked astray by Fetter's earlier fumblings. She now sat before the fire, knelt against a short, squat log, and sliced hunks of the meat she had gathered into small chunks, each of which she fed along a sharpened metal stake. The fingers of her gloves had become slick with meat and salt as she worked, rapidly losing herself in the rhythm she had set.
By the time the fire had kicked up the beast was no longer in the tent. Instead, it lay quietly in the snow, curled around her where she sat. Snow collected around his legs and body as he rested, still focusing on the meat which cooked over the fire.