It took a few minutes for Ryuu to realize that the large animal he was facing was not the leader. It was big, yes. Much larger than he, with paws that could no doubt swat him across the snow feet away without so much as an effort, but not the leader. There were obvious signs pointing to this, what with the way the animal did not hold the attention of its other pack-mates.
Realizing this, Ryuu lifted his gaze to stare right into the creature's brown eyes—and was immediately flooded with a sense of anticipatory impatience. It made him shift where he sat, made him want to spring. But Ryuu resisted it, resisted the feeling of waiting for a command, a feeling he didn't understand.
Then it dawned on him. The matukyuu were empathetic beasts, capable of relaying feelings—if not more—to each other, and, in this case, to others able to pick up on those feelings and messages. This surprised him. He hadn't thought the matukyuu any more than simple tundra carnivores, common animals. He hadn't expected them to have intelligence such as this.
The particular one he now looked at seemed just as startled by his daring to look directly at it as he was by its intriguing ability. It snuffed loudly, its warm breath visible on the air, then growled at him, ears pulling back. Apparently it wasn't used to its prey showing signs of dominance. But there was no way Ryuu was going to show submission to a beast that wasn't even the pack leader.
Knowing that the creatures surrounding him would not attack without an order to do so, he turned his attention to Zurna, who, while enclosed by the matukyuu as well, did not seem to be having as much of an unwelcome as he would have expected. One of the animals, young by its smaller appearance, even seemed to be showing her signs of affection. Then she was looking at him at the same time as the juvenile, and a distant, fierce look crossed her features, a look that nearly mirrored the creature's.
Ha. Interesting. So she could pick up on their empathic abilities as well. And wasn't as good at controlling them by the looks of it.
Soon a new pair of eyes was on him, and these were eyes he immediately recognized as ones of power and authority: the pack leader, or alpha as some would call him. A jagged scar ran down one side of the animal's face.
Having made the mistake of looking the creature in the eye, Ryuu watched as it made its way toward him. A great male of a beast up close, the smell of its breath souring the air as it put its face near his. Ryuu did not make the mistake of making eye contact again, instead staring in a bored fashion down at the male's paws. He really wished something would happen—the animals go away or just kill him—he had business to be doing.
Stand! The voice was so loud, so unexpected, booming through his head like thunder, that Ryuu instantly did as it said. It was only as he stood on his two feet that he realized what had just happened.
The link through which the voice had come was much like the dusty, broken link of . . . of him, but not wholly the same, right next to it. The corridor he had shared in his mind with another was blocked, filled with air; an empty hall he would never tread through again. But it had been so much like it, so similar, that he had . . .
The alpha, in his own shock that Ryuu could sense, shook his head in surprise and growled again. Understand . . . me? he asked.
But Ryuu was through with his astonishment, now more silent than ever for having hard memories brought forward unexpectedly. Before he knew it, a large paw had him sprawling on his back in the snow. A furious furry face loomed over his, roaring its anger at his defiance. He frowned at its foul breath, making no other move.
Not scared? the beast asked, still growling, though its head was tilting to the side in hard-to-cover curiosity.
Ryuu glared at it. No. Never scared.
The animal sniffed him, its big, wet nose chilling the skin on his face. When it pulled back, a strange look on its face appeared, resembling a smile. Kill your friend. Then scared? It was hard deciphering its language, his mind automatically translating what it could of the primitive communication, but he thought he understood what it meant.
Not a friend. Not scared. What did he care if Zurna were killed, except that he'd be down an escort? She mattered little to him, if at all. Why attack us? he finally asked.