Grunts, snarls, and the sounds of a scuffle just barely rose above the rush of the water in the Rio Grande as two wolves clawed and bit and slammed into one another. Sitka growled as his opponent, a smaller yet stockier timber wolf, slammed into his chest, forcing the dire brute to rise up and slam his paws down into the other man's shoulders. The wolf yelped, then snapped up at Sitka, but his teeth found only the black leather of his armor and glanced off harmlessly. Sitka took the opening and brought a paw down across the other wolf's face, claws tearing through his foe's cheek, then grabbed the other man's scruff in his jaws and began to thrash, shaking him about before tossing him aside. His opponent tumbled across the ground, but came to a stop on his feet, launching back at Sitka and barreling into the larger wolf with enough force to send Sitka sprawling backwards on the riverbank.

Sitka grunted as he ended up on his back, his enemy now atop him with lethal jaws snapping towards his throat. Sitka managed to grab the other wolf's muzzle with his paws, starting a struggle between the two combatants against one another. With a snarl, Sitka pushed with all his might, managing to get enough leverage to put some space between him and the wolf to be able to get his jaws in and bite at the other man's chin. The wolf recoiled with another yelp, but not before he took a few swipes at the downed dire, leaving a deep scratch across his leather armor and the other nicking him across the side of his neck, not enough to be concerning, but enough to draw blood. Coiling his hind legs underneath his foe's stomach, Sitka kicked with all his might, throwing the timber wolf off of him and both wolves getting up only to glare and throw themselves at one another again.

Snapping jaws and swinging claws brought more sprays of blood from both combatants until the timber wolf managed to get Sitka off balance with a particularly hard hit to his head, then slammed him with his shoulder until the dire wolf toppled back to the edge of the riverbank. Before Sitka could get back up, the timber wolf was on his back, pushing him into the water and placing both paws on the back of his head to shove his face beneath the cold water. The water rushed around his ears, dampening out his enemy's violent growls of triumph. Sitka held his breath, paws pushing against the soft, silty ground to try and get some footing to throw his enemy off of him, but he just kept slipping. Calm, Sitka, calm! Think! Using his hind legs to feel around behind him, Sitka reared a leg back and kicked hard upward, rewarded by the feel of the other brute's soft genitals under his claws. All at once, the pressure on the back of his head loosened as the wolf on his back crumpled in on himself, and with a spray of water and fangs, Sitka burst from beneath the water, twisting to throw his opponent off of him.

The timber wolf hit the riverbank with a thud, and all at once Sitka was on top of him, teeth sinking into the man's shoulder until he tasted blood and heard his cry. The dire brute dragged his foe into the water and reversed the roles, holding the timber wolf beneath the water with one paw under the man's chin and another on his chest. Sitka was smarter than to straddle his flailing enemy, keeping clear of his kicking paws so he couldn't get free. Sitka snarled, bloodied white teeth bared viciously as he watched the drowning wolf desperately fight to get back to the air. His snarl twisting into a wicked grin, Sitka grabbed the wolf and pulled him back above the surface, listening to him gasp for air, and then swiftly shoving him back under while he tried to breathe, forcing the wolf to swallow in a lungful of air. The thrashing became more violent, more urgent. Sitka did not relent. He lifted the wolf back up again, listening to him cough up the water in his lungs, then back under he went when he tried to breathe, gulping more river water into his lungs.

Slowly, slowly, the timer wolf's strength began to wane as his oxygen deprived brain succumbed to asphyxiation. Despite the ache in his muscles and the blood running down his neck, Sitka held firm, watching the wolf's eyes roll back and haze over from beneath the clear water. The wolf's paws gave the final spasms of death, and then his soul left his body. Sitka held the corpse beneath the water for a few long moments more just to be sure his foe was well and truly dead, then pushed the body away with a huff of disgust, leaving the drowned wolf still partially under the rippling water. He glanced down at the long claw marks scratching across the width of his leather chest piece, then winced as he brought a tentative paw up to his neck, feeling the wounds damp with his warm blood. Fuck, that had been too close...

Stepping away from the body, Sitka unfastened his armor and shrugged it off, allowed himself to revel in his victory for a moment while he inspected his damage. A few cuts, scrapes, and bites, but nothing too bad. He took a long drink of cool water, relieving his parched throat and splashing some on his neck to clean his wound and fur. While not how he had been intending for his day to go, that had at least been entertaining and gave him that rush of adrenaline and dopamine he was constantly craving. Steel blue eyes closed as he washed away the blood and dirt from his pelt, breathing a sigh of relief while he bathed and groomed, removing all traces of the fight and murder from himself.

"Sitka"

Alastor had all but vanished. The dark brute had shone a little light into her life with his charisma and subtle understanding of what she had been through. There had been something dark and fascinating about him, and she found herself missing his company. She had known the brute for two days, and she had bonded with him better than she had any of her pack mates.

Perhaps that was why she spent so much of her time wondering. Exploring the lands around Fireside, hoping to catch some hide or hair of him. Had their friendship meant anything to him? She wasn’t pinning, she was an independent young woman who didn’t need some coal-eyed wolf to feel whole. She was curious, simply curious, where he had gone after leaving her at the borders.

Her wandering paws followed the snaking river, taking her down to the Rio Grande, and close to the scent of other packs. She screwed up her nose, and veered a little more to the North, avoiding the packs a little South of her. It was along this stretch of water that she found the white wolf.

Fastidiously cleaning his coat in the water was an innocent enough act. The scent of blood in the air, and the bobbing shape of a body washed partly to shore was another matter entirely. Sera froze, letting out her breath in a slow, careful motion. If she slowly turned around and left, would she manage it without catching his attention?

"Speech"

Standing in the shallow edge of the river to clean his pelt, Sitka didn't notice anyone else nearby with the sound of the rippling water surrounding him. He splashed some cold water across his face, releasing a heavy sigh as the last of the blood ran off him in crimson trails to be swept away by the river. Now that he was cleaner, he could deal with the asshole bobbing in the shallows like some sort of macabre pool toy. Turning and wading his way back to the shore, Sitka padded onto the rocky banks—then paused when his gray-blue eyes spotted her. She was a little thing, patchwork coat of browns and grays standing out amongst the greenery, and her dusty blue highlights betraying her even more so. She was staring at him with wide eyes, studying the scene she had clearly stumbled upon, though judging by the way that she was still just watching him, it was clear she hadn't made up her mind on how to proceed yet.

Sitka cast a dry, crooked grin to her, flashing his white teeth in friendly greeting, then turned and walked over to the body as casually as if he had simply said hello to a neighbor in the morning. He cared little if she was watching him; she had no clue what she was seeing. Was she witnessing a murderer disposing of a corpse, or a wolf who had defended himself against an attacker? The unknown variable that was Sitka merely went about his business, striding up to the body of the timber wolf and giving it a push to send it on its way floating down the river. Sitka watched the wolf float away until the body had drifted out of sight, then turned back to collect his armor.

"Are you going to stand there staring all day, or are you going to come out and say hello?" he called out to the woman on the sidelines, his low and husky voice growling through the otherwise still air, not making eye contact with her while he took his armor over to the river to begin washing the mud and blood off of it. He dunked the leather breastplate under the flowing water, deft paws brushing and rubbing it clean. "I won't bite you. Not unless you're into that." A husky chuckle rumbled in the brute's chest, grinning to himself, amused by his own humor. He had started the volley. The ball was in her court now. Would she turn tail and run away, take a brave step forward and return conversation for a minute, or try to pick a fight with him? He hoped for the second or third option. Running was so boring, talking could be pleasant, and he certainly wouldn't mind a bit more of a fight right now. Though he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't send her floating down the river as well.

"Sitka"

She blinked in astonishment as he flashed her an easy grin. It brought a glow to the monochrome tones of his coat, and eyes that would be a harsh grey if they didn’t seem so content. If she was a witness to a murder, the fact didn’t seem to bother him very much.

He gave the body an uncerimonal shove, and watched it bob along like so much driftwood down the stream. She blinked again, still trying to process the screen. Her mind screamed danger, danger! but for some reason, her legs just didn’t seem to want to do anything.

He spoke to her then, his husky baritone made the words far more inviting then they had any right to be. She rolled on the balls of her feet, contemplating her options. He invited her towards him, did that mean he would give chase if she fled? Did he want her closer so he could dispose of the one witness to his crime?

While he cleaned his armour, she ran her eyes down his long legs, and considered. There was a lot of height to him, and he looked light on his feet despite it. If he chased, she wasn’t entirely certain she would win. “Do you send all your friends off without so much as a goodbye?” she asked, raising her voice into a light question, as though the answer was no matter to her. She was prying, but she tried to play it off as sarcasm.

"Speech"

Ah, so she chose to speak! Good, that was the option he had been hoping she'd go for the most. Her words brought forth a short, hearty laugh from the grinning man who pulled his armor out of the water, turning it around to inspect it. "Only the ones who attack me first. And who don't even know my name. Oh, and who I don't know either." He cast another smirk back at her from over his shoulder, then clarified, "He wasn't my friend, darling. He was a bastard who picked a fight with the wrong wolf and lost. It's as simple as that. Don't feel bad for him." Ah, but was it? Was he telling her the truth, or a convincing lie? As the sole survivor, his truth would be the only truth. Did it really matter what had actually happened if he was the one to decide what the reality was? That knowledge brought him a sense of power and control, and along with it a hit of that dopamine again, elevating his mood further.

Sitka hummed while he considered the fresh claw marks across the planes of his leather armor, new scarring added to the old patina and marks from all the other use in combat the armor had seen. It was far from new, most of its lustrous fresh shine long gone, and the smooth surface covered in little trenches and nicks from where it had saved his skin. Ah well, he quite liked it this way. It was worn, rugged, durable—just like him. Taking his armor in his jaws, Sitka carried the breastplate out of the river and set it down on a nearby rock to dry in the summer sun. Steely eyes turned back towards his new company, a roguish smirk painting his countenance. Unbeknownst to her, he was subtly sizing her up, taking in what little details he could get. She was quite the looker, he had to give her that. Youthful, lithe, beautiful with a unique coat and markings. She was sadly downwind so he couldn't get a chance to sample her scent without her knowing, but he'd take what he could get.

"Likewise, do you make it a habit to spy on wolves when they're bathing down at the river?" he shot back with a sly grin, eyes flashing mischievously. "I suppose I should be flattered. Makes me feel like quite the pretty wolf, I must admit." Sitka made a dramatic show of fluffing up the fur around his neck like he was primping himself. Was he teasing her? Yes, yes he was, shamelessly too. But she had made her decision to stay, so he was going to get as much enjoyment out of this interaction as possible.

"Sitka"

She let out a noncommittal huff at his words. It wasn’t that long ago that one of those arctic dires had attacked her in the woods near her pack. That…. had almost gone badly for her. Would she have killed that wolf, if she had been able? Maybe. There was another wolf she would kill, if she ever got her paws on him. She suppressed a shudder, turning her attention back on the strange murderer before her.

My! He had quite a tongue on him, his roguish words dancing alone, as through her own input was no matter. Teasing her for watching him. Turning it around, as through it was not he who had murdered a wolf that was in the wrong. But her, the stalker along the bank for watching.

She was still on edge. The body was long gone from view now, but it had happened. He was a male, dangerous, charming. She was weary about getting too close. Letting him see the weakness in her eyes and heart when that fear jumped out at her. She thought longingly of Alastor, she had begun to feel almost… safe, in his presence. She did not feel safe now. It was licking the after effects of lightning, her body felt tense and alive. “Only on the ones that make a show of themselves” she said dryly, cautiously seating her rump on the ground. Not going closer, not getting further away. She knew a little something about predators. A sense was telling her he was the kind of wolf that would enjoy the chase.

"Speech"

The soft sound of the fae's huffing breath was like music to his ears. Was he getting under her skin? Pushing her buttons? He hoped he was, if for no other reason than to hear more of those entertaining reactions from her. She was still keeping her distance, but when he looked back to her, she had taken a seat on the grass, clearly in no hurry to leave anymore. Turning back towards her, Sitka took two slow strides closer, then abruptly stopped, crossing his paws as he stretched his body forward and slunk down into a lying posture, forepaws crossed casually while he relaxed and held her azure gaze. A low chuckle rumbled in his throat when she made a remark about him making a spectacle of himself. He couldn't exactly deny that, he hadn't done anything to make himself hidden or cover up what he'd done. But why bother? He had nothing to hide. This world was all about survival of the fittest. He had overpowered his opponent and the wolf had paid the ultimate price. No love lost there.

"Well, I hope you enjoyed the show then, darling." Another chuckle under his breath. She was a curious girl, caught somewhere between looking ready to flee at a moment's notice and also seemingly wired on something, like she was riding some sort of high from a hit of a stimulant. "What brings a lovely lady out this way? Enjoying a nice summer stroll along the river? Or were you looking for something in particular?" She had to be. If she was just minding her own business, she would have run away by now. The fact that she was still here talking to him meant she was looking for something—or someone. His wolfish grin returned with a wink as he said, "You don't have to look so nervous, y'know. If I wanted to hurt you, I'd have done so already." But why would he want to ruin such beauty? That would just be a crying shame.

"Sitka"

Had she enjoyed the show? Why would he think watching him push a body out to stream would be something worth watching. What kind of wolf was he? Her thoughts flickered briefly to Alastor again, but she had to stop measuring the world up to him. He was gone, he had left, and hadn’t come back for her.

“You're not quite as entertaining as you think you are.” It wasn’t the wisest move to antagonise the giant before her. But then, Sera had never been the wisest. It was like he was trying to make her afraid, trying to push her buttons. He was bold and flamboyant and prideful. It made her want to needle him with her occasionally sharp tongue.

If I wanted to hurt you, I'd have done so already.

She flinched, before she could bite back the reaction. A twitch along her spine, and a flicker in her eyes. The words hit too close to home, to what she had run from. From a wolf that could hurt her any time he liked, just because he wanted to. This man was a stranger, she didn’t know him, didn’t trust him.

But he was outspoken, bold, and fearless. Despite herself, despite everything, a little jealous part of her watched him with a great curiosity.

"Speech"

Sitka winced and gave a little hiss of feigned emotional pain at the woman's retort of his entertainment value, or lack thereof. "I'm not? Pity. Guess I need to find some new material," he said, though the teasing tone remained in his voice. She was quite short-spoken, it was a bit of a shame. Trying to maintain conversation with her was becoming quite the effort, one he wasn't sure was worth continuing. She wouldn't say a word of what she'd seen here to anyone, of that he was certain, but he couldn't figure out why she was still hanging around if a part of her didn't actually enjoy this. Perhaps there was some masochism behind that lovely face? It did provoke his dark mind to curiosity; what else would she be hiding behind those eyes?

She flinched at his passive threat. Something in his words or his tone had shaken her to her core. A curious brow raised above a gleaming steely eye. Whatever that had been about he knew he had no chance of finding out what it was. Well, whatever... Pushing off of the ground, the brute rose back to his full height, giving his multi toned coat a shake to free it of loose pebbles and grass before stepping back over to where his armor was drying, putting more space between him and the odd female.

"Well, best be on your way then, since there's nothing for you here," he said from afar, lying down on the bank of the river again and facing away from the stranger. "Feel free to mention this to anyone you want. No one will believe you anyway." What would she tell anyone anyway? That she saw a murder by the river, but there's no body because it washed away and the killer let her go free and unharmed for no apparent reason? She'd sound insane for telling such a fantastical tale, and he'd be long gone by then.

"Sitka"

She couldn’t help herself, her lip twitched in wry amusement as his dark humor got under her skin. He chatted along so easily, so effortlessly, like charisma was just a charming quirk he could pick up and put down as he pleased. Sera knew she was awkward and uncertain, holding herself around that fear in her core that she just couldn’t shake.

He got up then, shaking himself off, and moving. She tensed, expecting… something, and was caught by surprise when he moved away again. Going for his armour, and looking utterly nonplussed. Instead of picking up the pieces, he sat down beside them, and then sprawled on the grass. As though he had not a care in the world.

She was wrong, he had no intention of chasing her. He was such an enigma to him. So careless and at ease in his own skin. He didn’t follow any of the rules. He did kill a wolf and then snarl and sneer and threaten. He just… he just sat there, calm as could be. Smug, even.

She huffed, indignant. “What, that’s it? You killed a man and that's the best threat you can come up with?”
She really should use his turned back as a chance to escape. Get back to her paws, flee. Instead, when she rose, she stepped a little closer. Using the height from standing to get a better look at him and his armor. “Aren’t you even going to tell me your name? So I know who I'm mentioning to not be believed” - did that even make any sense? Grief.

"Speech"

White-furred ears flicked back to catch the lady's upset words, mocking him for his lack of... what, aggression? She clearly assumed the worst of him, pinning him with the role of murderer despite knowing nothing of what had occurred. That irked him. He didn't care much for a little girl calling him out on not being threatening enough to her. His sleek head snapped back to glance at her over his shoulder, his smile gone, his expression dark. "Oh, I'm sorry, am I not threatening enough for you?" he asked, his voice a sickeningly sweet taunt.

The massive wolf rose back to his full height and turned to face the smaller fae, fixing her with hardened steel-blue eyes. "How about I tell you how I'll show you exactly what that wolf got firsthand? Offer to push your head into the river and hold you down until your heart stops beating and your legs stop kicking?" he growled in his rough, husky timbre. Keeping his intense gaze locked on her young face, Sitka began to stalk closer with slow, deliberate steps, talking every step of the way. The dire wolf was fearless; he had no hesitation closing the space between him and her. "Or I could spend the rest of the day hunting you down like prey. You run, and I'll run you down, taking bites at your legs until you can't run anymore. Then I'll just let you bleed to death slowly wherever you happen to collapse. Or maybe you'd like something more violent? Want me to sink my teeth into your tender throat? Thrash you about and let your heart pump every drop of blood down into your lungs until you can't breathe?"

Sitka continued to come closer, waiting to see if she would turn and run or hold her ground. If she ran, maybe he would pursue her. If she didn't, he would come to loom over her, peering down at the smaller wolf with smoldering gray-blue eyes, considering her for a moment. "Sitka Thánatos," he said with the remnants of a growl in his voice. "Now that you know my name, maybe I should kill you. Can't go telling wolves make-believe stories if you're dead, after all." Sitka's eyes burned into the girl's deep vibrant blues, memorizing her face. Up close to her now, Sitka could better see her and smell her, surreptitiously drawing in her scent with every breath. She smelled delicious, and she was such a lovely little thing, slim and lithe, curvy in the right places, and utterly gorgeous. Gods, the things he wouldn't mind doing to her...

"Go on, little wolf," he husked in his gravelly tone, motioning behind her with a tip of his muzzle. "Run. Run away."

"Sitka"

Shit she had poked the bear. That constant, aggressive need to prove to herself that she wasn’t afraid always meant she poked the damn bear. His demeanor changed, and something dark beneath the surface came to attention in his eyes. Silver eyes that had seemed like a reflection of moonlight, instead reminded her of the glimmer off a blade's surface.

He got to his paws, and he really truly was an impressive height. She felt tall, and fought the urge to shrink back into her pads. He’d taken her words literally, and came now with those threats she had been expecting in the first place. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she knew a part of herself welcomed the rush of adrenaline. That moment when your body gave in to fight or flight. She didn’t want to be a coward, a wolf that fled. Her wide eyes showed white as she fought the sudden urge to do [i] something. Conflicting her senses until instead she could do nothing.

He was trying to scare her. He hadn’t shown this roiling writhing side of himself until she had challenged him. The smart think to do would be to back down, and hope like hell he calmed down again. But Sera was an idiot with too much to prove. “ I’ve got bigger demons in my head than a silly silver goose with a sharp tongue.” She snapped back, trying very hard not to imagine the scenario he gave her. Of wearing her down, hurting her along the way. Forcing her to run, and run, and run, on bleeding paws. Feeling the blood draining from her body. He was a scary fucking bastard, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

You don’t run from the wolf in the night she reminded herself fervently. Despite her words and mental support, her breathing was short, shallow gasps and the whites in her eyes only got bigger. It was getting harder and harder to convince herself as he gave her his name and promised her death. Telling her to run, run. “I’ve done enough running. Kill me, if you're so afraid of a little wolf's mouth.” she growled. Her tense muscles giving lie as she rolled on the balls of her feet, preparing to run.

"Speech"

Oh good, she was beginning to get frightened. Sitka's words had their desired effect on her, and he watched with amusement as her eyes widened, pupils shrinking and her body tensed and ready to spring back into a full tilt sprint at a moment's notice. She was putting on a brave face, lying with bold words, but he could see the fear in her eyes, read it clear as day in her body language. He regarded her with piercing eyes for a moment longer while she dared him to kill her, declaring that he was a silly silver goose and that she was done running. Ah, so she'd run from someone before, eh? How interesting...

Despite his cold, murderous look, Sitka's expression broke with a wry smirk and a snicker, bringing a large paw up slowly to go to pat the top of her head. "Never been called a silly silver goose before. You put on a brave face, darling." His smirk grew to a full, toothy grin that showed every pearly white dagger in his head. He leaned in closer, making no effort to hide the two deep inhales he took of her scent, sampling her with a throaty grumble. "But you absolutely reek of fear..." whispered Sitka almost directly into her ear, a lecherousness taking over his expression. "And I'm never afraid of what a wolf can do with her mouth."

Still grinning and chuckling to himself, the silver-furred bastard took a step back, then turned on his heels and strode gracefully back over to his armor. He snatched up the leather chest piece, scowling while he looked at the deep gashes across the breadth of the armor that cut almost entirely through it. Dammit, that wolf had some sharp claws... He'd have to go find that red-furred armor smith again and get him to patch this up. The fucker was always roaming though. When he'd last seen him, he'd been up north, though that was a few seasons back. Finding him would not be an easy feat.

Slipping his armor back on, Sitka fastened it around his breast and turned back to the peculiar girl. "Are you lingering because you want something from me? Or are you not done trying to prove to yourself that you're brave by trying to pick fights with wolves that could fold you in half?" he asked with a tilt to his head, watching this enticing woman with curious eyes.

"Sitka"

She flinched from his touch like he had delivered her a blow. As much as a part of her might crave the feeling of curling up against another, her body was too accustomed to ridicule and hurt to think any touch could be friendly. Especially when delivered by a man that had just threatened her.

She shuddered when he took in a few deep breaths, as through liking what his sensors were telling him. He must love the smell of fear and misery. Sera knew she hadn’t managed to put on the brave front she wanted. Defeat tasted metallic and cold on her tongue. She was just a deer in the moonlight. Not brave, frozen. She hated herself, her weakness, her cowardice. There was something so confident and sure about Sitka’s posture and words. He was like a man that owned the world, and knew it.

He asked again why she was lingering, but she still didn’t have an answer for him. She knew the logical, smart thing to do would be to turn tail and run. To let in to her inner cowardice, and know she would never be brave or strong enough to change who she was. Nothing would ever change, she would never stop flinching at the touch of another, or showing the white of her eyes when someone's smile turned just a little too predatory.

“Teach me.” she whispered. The words out before she even knew what she was asking. “Teach me to be brave, like you are.”


"Speech"

The peculiar woman sat like she was caught between two unrelenting forces, half wanting to flee and half wanting to stay. She was so conflicted, so vulnerable, so bold and timid at the same time. Sitka watched her curiously while she seemed to mull over something in her head. Finally, she spoke, her voice just barely audible over the sound of the river. The dire brute's ears pricked atop his crown, looking at her with confused eyes. She wanted to be taught how to be brave? The amused smile came back to Sitka's face and he gave a barking laugh. "Do I look like I'd be a good teacher, girl? You just watched me sail someone down the river and you want to spend even more time with me?" He laughed again, starting to trudge his way up the bank away from the river, coming to walk right past her.

"I will give you one thing," he began with that devilish smile he wore so well. "You've got the first part of bravery down pat: stupidity. Everyone brave is also undeniably stupid." Yep, he included himself in that grouping too. He stepped past the smaller girl, but couldn't get her request out of his head."Why do you want me to teach you to be brave?" he asked with a sigh of resignation, looking back at her again with prying silver-blue eyes. "Why not get one of the pack wolves I can smell on you to help you? What would you even do with bravery?" Of all the things wolves had asked and demanded of him, this was by far the strangest request he'd ever gotten. Who was this skittish little wolf and who was she trying to impress?

"Sitka"

She knew she was going to be ridiculed for asking. She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. His barked laughter grated on ears, and she folded them to her skull. Anger smarting in her eyes. He laughed again, driving home his point and ridicule.

Stupid. The words smacked into her like a blow. She got briskly to her feet again, her feelings of frustration and helplessness rising in her throat. She was a fool. Why didn’t she ask the pack wolves? She had barely associated with them since joining Fireside. There was one wolf she would have asked. One. But he had left her, and the abandonment stung. Perhaps if she hadn’t been such a cowering fool, he wouldn’t have walked away so easily.

“Forget it. Just… forget it.” She growled. Pushing down on the balls of her feet as she turned, and began to walk away. Her ears were pricked for any sign that he wasn’t going to let her leave.

"Speech"

The anger on her expression burned like wildfire. Clearly he had struck a nerve he hadn't known existed with something he'd said. She didn't answer any of his questions though before she snapped back to forget it and began to turn and walk away from him. For a brief moment, Sitka considered just letting her walk away and being done with this. But the slap in his face came not from her growled out words or her demeanor. It came from the fact that she was walking away from him without answering his questions. Sitka's smile dropped to a scowl, narrowed eyes pointed at the retreating fae. Who the fuck did she think she was? Asking him to teach her to be brave, then leaving like he was nothing and not giving him a single answer.

"Hey!" he shouted after her, turning on a dime and following after her. Long legs and large paws carried him swiftly up behind her, closing the gap between them in seconds. "Don't you walk away from me! Answer me when I'm talking to you!" Sitka picked up the pace and was quick to cut off her escape with a low, threatening growl. He stood like a wall of wolf in front of her, fixing her with those piercing, aggressive eyes again. She wanted to learn how to be brave so badly? Fine. He'd show her how he'd been forced to be brave in the first place.

"You've got a lot of nerve asking me for help and then ignoring me, girl," he spoke, voice more growl than conversational. "You want to learn how to be brave? Fine. Lesson one: be stupid. Don't think about the consequences of what you have to do. Fuck the rest. Scared to do something? Just do it by any means necessary." He took a step closer to her, almost bumping her with his chest. "Hit me. Claw me. Bite me. Do something, because if you don't, I am going to hurt you." As if to prove his point and provoke some sort of answer or reaction from her, Sitka aimed to swing a large paw up to connect with the side of her head. His intention wasn't to cause serious hard—yet—but she had asked him to teach her how to be brave. He had been forced to be brave when confronted with a life or death situation. She would learn the way he did.

Again, Sitka swung a paw for her head, hoping to just knock her around a bit. The stupid bitch had the spirit in her, but not the confidence or the nerve. Provoking an instinctive reaction would give her that first taste of what bravery and action felt like. "C'mon, fight me! Hurt me! Try to kill me!" he snarled, continuing to advance on her with every swing of his paws, his teeth bared in a growl. "You saw what I did to that wolf. You wanna end up facedown in the river too? No? Then stop me." He snapped his jaws and flattened his ears, preparing for her to attack him and kick off what would undoubtedly be a vicious confrontation if she had it in her. If not, she would always be doomed to be a doormat, someone else's bitch to use and abuse however they wanted and keep her pressed under their heels.

"Sitka"

She wasn’t running away. She wasn’t a coward. There was just… nothing more for her here. She wasn’t even sure why she had let her paws roam this way. It was obvious that Alistor was not here, and maybe he never had been.

After Sitka’s attitude on her being no threat, she had started to believe that maybe he would actually let her go. Her anger had helped bring that point around - she was too irritated to remember why she hadn’t left in the first place. That only prey runs. It startled her when she heard the sound of his paws behind her.

He caught up quickly, no doubt his superior height had everything to do with that. His harsh words made her flinch, but her anger was stronger than her fear. Perhaps that was the answer - every time she had ever managed to break through her fear, it had been at the behest of her temper.

She didn’t want to, but she had to stop when he placed himself in front of her. She almost knocked into him, and skittered back to avoid touching him. The idea of another contacting her was still enough to send a shiver of fear through her coat - despite the anger.

He closed that gap she had created, and her heartrate picked up. So too did her breathing, catching the scent of charcoal and a spice she couldn’t name. This was the closest she had been to him yet, and she could see a hint of blue in his light-light eyes. Even clouded as they were with his own rage.

She was trying too hard to distract herself from her growing fear as she realised the predicament she had put herself in. distracted as she was, she didn’t catch his threat once the words were out of his mouth until his paw was already moving. Dealing her a blow on the side of her head that knocked her slightly to the side. She scrambled to keep her balance, and everything suddenly felt more real. Her anger was sliding away from her, leaving her vulnerable and afraid. She didn’t want to be the plaything of another narcissist.

He swung again and she threw herself to the ground to avoid the blow. His snarled words were spat in his face, taunting her. As her kidnapper once had, shortly after he had taken her. When she was still a sweet summer child. He had smacked her around, taunting, daring her. Any time she tried to defend herself, he had hurt her further. Played with her, dragged his paws across her coat. She felt like a child again and tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. He had taken everything from her.
“No!” she snapped not again
Not a coward, not a coward, not a coward!

She lashed out, wildness in her eyes as she aimed to smash her hardened skull against his shoulder and swipe at his paws in a futile attempt of the untrained to defend herself, tears falling harder as she vented a lifetime of rage. “I won’t go back, I won’t!”

"Speech"

Sitka was mildly annoyed by the girl's refusal to do anything but stand there and take the abuse he was throwing at her. She looked like she was trying to tune him out, but once his paw made contact with her, then the tone shifted. She deftly dodged his second swipe, and then to his surprise, she shouted out and lunged for him, thrashing with wild and haphazard attacks at him. Sitka recoiled to avoid a flailing paw coming at him, her hard head ramming into his shoulder with enough force to shove him back a step. Her paws swiped at his legs, the only part of him directly on her height level. He scowled and shook his head slowly. She had spunk and a fire in her belly, but she was reckless and inexperienced. It was like watching an amateur attempt to compete with a professional. All the gumption in the world wouldn't give her what she needed.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he snarled down at her, shoving himself forward again in an attempt to push her back. Now that he knew she was pretty much no threat, he didn't feel the need to smack or claw at her. He could just shove her around and she'd probably fold like a house of cards. "I said, fight me! Hurt me! Is that the best you can do?" He didn't know the meaning of her cried out words, but she clearly wasn't mentally here with him right now.

After a few more moments, Sitka raised a paw with the intention to press it to her chest and push her back onto her rump. "STOP!" he bellowed, fixing hardened eyes onto the smaller girl. This was just getting sad now and he really didn't want to see this young woman embarrass herself more than she already had. "How do you expect to be brave if you can't even control yourself? I said be stupid, not lose control." He gazed down at her with a slight scowl, considering her for a moment. She was an odd one, that was for sure. But she had passion and spirit, he would give her that. She looked like she was desperate to prove herself, lost and trying to find her place. Stupid girl. She wouldn't find anything good here with him. Anything good in him had died long ago.

"Sitka"

She was breathing heavily, both from the fear, adn the thrill of landing her own strike. From the memories bubbling over and threatening to overwhelm her. Sera was utterly alone in the world, struggling to find a normality, to understand people. To pretend to be something more than an escaped slave. She knew she was strange, that what she said and did didn’t always make sense to those around her, but his words made her twitch. She realised then she had been rambling, yelling out her fears to the world. “Nothing… Nothing to you.” she snapped.

He shoved against her, pushing her small body back. His ridicule was hard to stomach, and she felt her anger burning through her throat, no matter how much she tried to swallow it back. She wanted to hurt him, the bastard. His words made it starkly obvious that nothing she had done had phazed him.

Taking another shuddered breath, she forced it all back down again. The rage and helplessness and confusion. Instead, she glared up at him through stubborn blue eyes. “You… you attacked me, what did you expect?” Her demons were too loud, too raw, twisting her inside out. Among that anger rolling through her was a strike of self pity and despair. She had met one wolf, one wolf in this world since her kidnapping that she had grown fondness for, and she would give her left eye to have him here beside her now. She had no doubt that red-marked devil would put Sitka in his place.


"Speech"