Las is puffing by the time he reaches the lake, struggling beneath the weight of his overstuffed satchel. he slumps down with a big sigh, rolling his shoulders to work the kinks out of his throbbing muscles. it's characteristically cold, though hints of spring are visible in the bulbs sprouting along a nearby tree branch. Cutlass tosses his satchel to the ground and eagerly rummages through its contents, skimming the various spines before making a small sound of triumph. he takes out his chosen book carefully, smoothing down the cover like it's something incredibly fragile. "where was i..." he murmurs to himself, mood lifting as he cracks the spine and flicks impatiently through the pages. when he finally finds his page, he reclines back on his haunches and delves into the story with a contented hum, the outside world blurring into mere background noise. ah, bliss.

a stillness in woe.

meet me in the blue bed i'll be drawing out your flaws and clawing at what's caused my knees to tremble.

While traversing through the harsh winter of the northern continent, monstera and manic had found reprieve in the west of boreas while wolfpaw lake offered moderate respite from an otherwise challenging trek. It had been manic’s job to find them some game, the smaller and lithe of the two had ease slinking his way through to capture a rabbit or rodent for the two to share. that’s what the pup had been focused on, attempting to sate his hunger (unfortunately, he seemed always to have a pain in the depth of his stomach from a place of lack).

Manic had been getting more comfortable with the lay of the land, some of the dens of the wild hunt and how close it was to the area they had decided to set up a small sanctuary for them to rest and take turns sleeping for the need of protection. The pup hears a noise he is unfamiliar with, almost like blades of grass sliding against one another and it caused a slight panic in the young wolf. “ Grass winter ? ” he thought in confusion, deciding to investigate himself as he crept his way over slowly until he saw a sight he was not expecting — a creature that mimicked the night sky seemingly holding something that had not looked like food. With an animalistic reflex, manic began to growl from deep within his chest at the uncomfort getting louder while keeping his distance at the strange scene but wanting to make note that what he was seeing felt unnatural and dangerous.

as a pup, MANIC is currently low-verbal, feral, and has a deep fear/mistrust of female wolves.

manic. three seasons old. rogue pup.

Cutlass is pulled from his literary tel every by a movement in his peripheral, and he lifts his head to find a boy about his age staring at him with wide blue eyes. it takes Las a moment longer to register the boy’s obvious discomfort, frowning as a low growl reaches his ears. “oh, um…hi,”?he attempts, voice quiet, hoping not to scare the newcomer. he’s watching them warily, and seems especially fixated on the book between their forepaws. Cutlass tilts his head, considering. perhaps he wants a book to read, too? “i’ve got plenty,” Las attempts, rummaging through his satchel. he lifts out a book and holds it out in offering. “why do you like to read?”

a stillness in woe.

meet me in the blue bed i'll be drawing out your flaws and clawing at what's caused my knees to tremble.

There is no grace in the wilds — Menace learned that first hand in his entire life as the young rogue pup’s features twist into something aggressive and ready to pounce with his limbs low and ears tucked back and saliva pooling in his mouth from exposed teeth until he hears a greeting and the thought frightens Menace. The rogue pup stumbles back slightly, still keeping his aggressive stance until he sees the book that is offered to him and he decides to cautiously move forward curious about the kindness. He steps forward hastily, teeth holding the book until he places it onto the floor and begins to tear the pages with his teeth expecting something more akin to food until he tastes dust and the paper spitting it out.


" Food. Not Food. What? " Menace asks, slamming his nose against the book a few times for emphasis trying his best to his highest capability to communicate with the other, deciding this felt safe enough for him to engage.

as a pup, MANIC is currently low-verbal, feral, and has a deep fear/mistrust of female wolves.

manic. three seasons old. rogue pup.

oh. oh…Cutlass watches the boy tear into his book, brows lifting in surprise. his first instinct is to get a pissed, of course - that’s his book - but it’s obvious that this kid is starving. and…not very familiar with literature? “i didn’t realise you hated that one so much,” Las teases, keeping his voice light. “i’ll make sure not to read it if it’s so terrible. however, if it’s food you’re after…” moving slowly, he digs through his satchel and finds a handful of berries he’d been saving for a snack. it’s never a good idea to leave home without provisions, and Las has a big appetite. still, this boy looks like he could use it more.

“here,” Las offers, setting the berries down between them. “it’s food.” he nods encouragingly, then steps back to give the kid plenty of room. he seems wary of Las, which is fair; not everyone has big scary parents to beat up their foes for them.

"Cutlass Fallen"