I Think We're Close Enough

The melanistic dire wolf had not been looking for sympathy. He never did, which was why he hadn't been expecting it from Relm. He was telling her about himself to show that he understood what it felt like to feel like there was something broken inside of you. To look at yourself and wonder when you would become a shadow of your sire and no longer be you. To feel that there was bad blood in your veins that you just couldn't get out, no matter how hard you tried. But he had also been setting Relm up for an answer—a revelation of sorts. He heard the gentle splashing of water as Relm stepped into the water beside him, following him into the lake. When he looked back up to her, he saw her right beside him, no longer shying away or hiding herself. It made him feel... proud, in a strange way. Like a parent watching their child take their first steps. He was proud of her for the struggles she overcame again and again and again. Relm was stronger than she realized, and sometimes Alastor felt he was the only one to see it.

Pupilless obsidian eyes held the pale gray of her gaze when Relm looked back up to him, shifting just enough in the shallow water to turn to face him. She explained how she knew he had done what he'd done for her. It was the truth of the matter. Alastor didn't like to let himself go like that because he feared the catastrophic damage he'd unleash on everyone around him. But when he saw Kefka on top of Relm like that, in that moment, nothing mattered more than protecting her. Not himself. Not his safety. Not even the pack. He cut himself loose because he wasn't going to give Kefka any chance of surviving to come back and hurt her again. Everything that happened afterwards had been what he'd dreaded, but he knew the risks when he did what he did. Alastor didn't regret a moment of slaughtering Kefka. Alastor did regret hurting Relm, even if he had wanted her more than anything in his animalistic state.

When Relm finally said the words he'd been hoping she'd say, denying that he was a monster to her, he gave a curt nod and motioned to her with his muzzle. "And you are not him, no more than I am my father." If he was not a monster for being the progeny of a sociopath, then neither was she. They were what they made themselves to be, not who they were spawned from. Then Relm asked him a question he had not been expecting, and the dark brute lifted a surprised brow. She wanted him to touch her again. Alastor looked over Relm—the parts of her he could see not obscured by her cloak—and gave a gruff rumble in response. If she desired him to touch her again, he would happily do so. Relm was a lovely wolf in her own right. So, without a word, Alastor turned in the water and came right up to her, abyssal eyes holding hers which appeared like sterling silver in the moonlight. He wordlessly lifted a large black paw to the clasp holding her cloak shut and unfastened it with a single claw, letting it slide down her shoulders. He then reached around with the same paw and scooped it off of her, tossing it back to the shore as he finished undressing her.

Standing before him in the moonlight, Relm's pink fur seemed to almost glow. Although removing her cloak had allowed her heat scent to flow free, Alastor held himself together, focusing entirely on Relm. He lifted his paw and placed it on her back, using a gentle pressure to usher her to sit in the shallow water and relax. "Would you like to turn around or stay this way?" He would leave the choice up to her. If she wished to watch him, she could, or if she was more comfortable replicating the moments after their spar, he was fine with that too. Either way, while she decided, Alastor let his massive paw rest on her back, just between her shoulder blades, watching her expression curiously while he began a circuit of slow strokes up and down her back, paw pads following the curve of her spine from neck down to waist and back again.


"Alastor"