no rest for the wicked
Months had passed since she'd been attacked and cast out from her pack. The waif had wandered far, full of fear and empty of food. She scavenged what little she could and managed to survive the summer alone, but it was getting harder to bear. Her haunches collapsed beneath her in the sticky mud, exhaustion taking hold. Where would she go? How would she survive? The constant worries plagued her anxious mind and an unpleasant heaviness weighed on her thin frame.
Oh, this place was rather terrible. A burden to walk through and an annoyance to breathe in. The ground squished with every step he took. As he picked up his paws he left soggy prints, flicking muddy water up against his legs and underbelly. Displeased was an understatement. Sheer exasperation plastered his facial features downward. His brow furrowed, his lips pulled down, and his nose wrinkled. He wasn't sure exactly when he became a 'pretty boy' but at the current moment, he just knew that he was one. Mud did not suit him well. Or maybe it was the suction from the very Earth that he was willing that turned him away. He didn't agree with the way the ground tried to swallow him. The entirety of the swamp bothered him to the core.
Valkorion tried to find order in the chaos. He searched for patterns, high, low, near, and far, but he was coming up fairly short. He thought if he stayed on the mossy grass he'd be fine, but that too would squish under his weight. He then turned to the roots that were also trying to escape the endless siege of water, but he found that they were either too weak to support him and also sank, or they were loose and slick. He settled for the grass. Though it may have oozed between his toes as he walked, at least it was stable-ish.
The mahogany coated man continued to trudge. Up and down. Under and over. The fog rolled in and still, he marched. He'd find his way out of this mess soon enough. But not before he came across a lost soul.
The brute climbed over a half decomposed log, his massive paws griping into the spongy soil as he eyed the creature lying in the muck. He turned his muzzle upwards, his eyes cast downward. Nostrils flared as he examined the pitiful brown creature before him. No tail, and hardly any ears. Who had been so cruel as to allow this dirt to go on? Valkorion was many things, but cruel he was not. He saw no point in letting someone suffer or letting someone live with a constant reminder of their self-worth, which was nothing. He saw it fit to end them. That was unless they deserved to walk with their faults on their pelts. He could name a wolf or two.
"Convenient," his voice was heavy and it echoed from behind the she-wolf. "If you continue to lay there like you've given up, the Earth will reclaim your sack of bones. Is that your intent? To just sink into the mud and fade away?" He asked with genuine curiosity. Had she wanted to die, he could be of assistance, and if she wanted to live... Well, he was feeling generous today. "Let the darkness sleep"
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Dark rubies cascaded to the sudden flicker at the base of the she-wolf. He watched as the stump of a tail began to quake, the movements traveling up the girl's spine, moving into her vocal cords as she whined in excitement. His brow lifted as his head tilted to the side ever so slightly. He had to wonder how attention starved was this lost girl that she was this animated by the approach of a total stranger? He never could understand why some loved the attention and affection of others. Valkorion wasn't one to find comfort in a vulnerable or tender moment.
The muddy wolf's voice was rough, raspy, and full of a plea. She begged even before he had given her a threat. This intrigued him deeply. His facial featured rolled from curiosity to a devil's grin. "You choose life, but still, you sink," his tongue flashed across his muzzle as he spoke. "Get up, if you so choose to live," he spoke with authority. His chest pressed forward, his head held high and his tail standing out straight. She may have found him domineering, commanding, or even intimidating, but he was not threatening. No, he neutral in that regard.
Almost as quickly as he had appeared he began to slip away from her. He turned, his voice calling over his shoulder, "Come now, let us leave this tempting grave." He paused for a brief second, his eyes shifting to the corner, casting his gaze behind him. If she did not give up and follow him, he would not return for her.
Why collect this one? he pondered to himself as he waited for those few heartbeats to pass and for her to rise. I don't know, something tells me she might be of use. There was a visible roll to his shoulder as he finished the thought. Perhaps, perhaps not. The internal commentary fizzled out as he lifted his paw to ascend back over the log. "Let the darkness sleep"
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She thanked him and his ears rose. He paused in his step to turn his head and watch as she scrambled to her feet. She could barely keep her delight under control. It oozed off her shaking body as she found her legs and came to his side. He watched her with great interest. He didn't need to claim her, she was already his. With just a touch of kindness, that he did not perceive as such, had her eager for his company. For a few heartbeats, he wasn't sure what he wanted to do. Let her stay in his company or leave her in the shadows? He had already offered her the choice so he shook his head and pushed out the thought.
"Tell me your story." He spoke as he began to walk again. He was careful in his step and if she started to fall behind he would pause again. He would even reach out and nudge her softly his muzzle or hip if he felt she was moving down a path that was unstable. "Step here," he whispered as to not interrupt her too much as she told her tale. He was quite interested in how she ended up tailless and with crumpled ears. Was she a slave, a runt in the litter and just constantly picked on? Or was she a criminal and now feared for further punishment? Whatever her book read he wanted the details. "Let the darkness sleep"
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Valkorion paused in his stride as the waif dropped her snout to the earth. His brow furrowed before the left lifted. He couldn't imagine what sort of crime should could have committed to warrant this much mutilation. She was timid, shy, and frankly, she seemed too soft to have done any terrible crime.
His head tilted upwards when her words skipped a beat. So she had been with a she-wolf and was either ashamed or still afraid. He huffed, his head pushing forward, muzzle nosing the air before he snorted. "And they? Did they receive the same punishment?" He asked as his tail flicked. "And why did adultery call for such punishment? There are far worse crimes." He asked out of curiosity. "And you should not be ashamed of your past with me." He turned, his body rotating to the right so that he could fully face her. He stepped closer to her and nudged her at the neck if she let him. "Pick your head up," he ordered. Valkorion didn't like sulking. He wasn't about to let her have a pity party. Vengeance was fine, but being moppy was unforgivable. "Let the darkness sleep"
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His eyes widened as he withdrew his head. He stared at her for a long moment before he shook his head, features softening as he scoffed. "The only traitor I find in that story is the bitch that betrayed you and her mate." He took a deep breath and released it in a huff. Her words replayed in his brain a few more times. The concept that traitors couldn't be wolves anymore was preposterous to him. He had been betrayed and he had betrayed. It didn't make him or them any less of wolves.
"We're still wolves, waif." He added as his head turned towards the sky. His eyes narrowed as he looked through the trees to find the sun. He tried to pinpoint its location and distance from the horizon to determine how much more light they had. "You can stay with me, and my name is Valkorion, not sir." His deep crimson eyes returned to the brown wolf that was still sulking. Maybe one day he could install more confidence in her spirit. "Let the darkness sleep"
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His name was Valkorion. Just the sound of his name repeating in her mind felt almost criminal and worthy of punishment. She could not address him as an equal. The thought of it filled her with tremendous anxiety. "I'm Remi. If it pleases you," she introduced herself meekly, barely able to withhold the sirs nor could she bring herself to speak his name aloud. Still the excitement of her pending rescue from solitude and the company of another wolf made the nub of her crooked tail begin to wag again.