Boredom had brought her to the old human creation, a strange thing, but it seemed quite worthy of exploration. Muscles would ripple beneath tawny fur, and pale yellow optics would scan the strange place. It seemed to be a good place to den, should she be unable to reach her forest in the case of a freak blizzard. The scent of wolves tainted every inch of the place, and it's appeal diminished almost entirely. She despised wolves, they were so pathetic, boring. They weren't even strong enough to take down prey on their own. The monster growled in annoyance, her long tail flicking behind her. Rounded face would pivot upon her powerful neck to take in the entrances to rooms on either side of her. It was getting quite boring now. One room peaked her interest, it was filled with trinkets that smelled untouched by wolves. The beast stepped inside, taking in the scents of strange things. Little did she know it was once a supply room, untouched by the previous owners of this place. Long claws would unsheathe and begin taking apart the packages to discover what was within. What appeared to be bottles made of coloured ice shattered upon the ground as their ropes were cut, and foul smelling liquid poured onto the floorboards. Lowering her cranium, the daemon screwed up her face in disgust, but nevertheless placed her tongue upon the surface of the puddle and lapped up a tiny bit. It tasted foul, like rotten berries and leaves. Shaking it free of her whiskers, she trotted out of the room to the deck of the ship. This place would not be graced with her presence unless she was desperate. Taking in the mess upon her beautiful bodice, she began using her raspy tongue to clean splinters of wood from her fur and cleaned the remains of the foul liquid from her front paws. A sliver of her claw had split off, and she tore it away with her teeth. Flicking her tail in irritation, the terror of the trees cleaned herself off while waiting for something to ruin this day further, if that was possible.

These lands weren't so different from the ones where he grew up. Ganelon paced through the snow, gray eyes disinterested in his surroundings. Same thing as always; he was following along the shoreline, smelling cold water and gulls and hoping one of them landed nearby so he could grab it. Food was hard to find this winter, and he'd taken a glance at his reflection in a sheet of ice the other day to see that he was quite alot smaller than he remembered himself being. Life of a loner, he supposed. Overrated, freedom. Time to go sell himself to another pack in exchange for food and a dry bed. The soldier huffed out a breath into the air, cursed to himself, and continued lurching along. Ahead was some kind of construct; he'd go check it out.

The object turned out to be sitting in the water. Ganelon had never seen anything like it. He sniffed the outside, which was made of..he wasn't really sure; some kind of alien material..caught nothing more interesting than a handful of different loners, and mm, rats?

A meal was a meal and he was too poor to be picky about what he ate. Ganelon took a few careful steps back, gauged the distance between the ground and the top of this object, took a deep breath, and launched himself into the air. A solid eight feet and he felt his paws connect with the surface of the object. Ice, not unexpectedly. He slid a few feet and came to a halt against the rail. Immediately stopped to look around for threats.

Nothing much. The top part of the construct was made of the same stuff as everything else. Cold, ice-covered, kind of brownish colored. The wind blew in some sort of vine things, which creaked slightly. Ganelon took a few careful steps and spotted the lion. Or whatever. Smaller than the lions he was used to. The scarred wolf immediately dropped his head and snarled at it, warning it off. Lions didn't usually try to fight; normally they took one look at you and ran off. Hopefully this would be the case here. He'd never fought one and it wasn't really in his plans.

A snarl, a threat from an inferior, met her ears. Tail flicking in annoyance, she looked up from her cleaning and returned the snarl. Hers was much louder, her chest rumbled with it and the timbre of her voice dislodged small icicles along the doorway of the captains quarters. She stood, glaring at the heavily scarred canine with pale yellow optics.
"So eager to fight, mutt. It is not always wise to pick a fight with the devil."
She growled, long tail lashing behind her. Thick muscles rippled as she leapt at the beast and tore him to pieces. With that over and done with, the monster tossed his carcass overboard like a ragdoll.

Yet another wondrous fantasy playing in her head, too bad it would not get to happen, not yet at least.

As the snarl met her rounded audits, she looked up calmly from her inspection of her paws. Pale fire burned in her eyes, and she stared at the scarred male with a look of disdain. Just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse. She thought to herself, standing swiftly. Thick muscles rippled as she leapt into the roof of the captains quarters, letting her tail tip hang over the edge in a taunting manner.
"Why must you wolves insist on being so quick to rush into battle? It's no wonder you die so quickly."
She growled, grinning snarkily at the stranger. Her light gold gaze was riddled with mirth as she stared down the pathetic mutt. Sure, she had fled, but that didn't mean she couldn't have fun with this waste of fur and flesh. A single paw would lazily leave the surface of the metal roof, and long claws would glide easily from their sheaths and scrape against the metal, long and slow and deliberate. The sound was quite similar to her own screeches, and she knew it would torment the poor puppy.

The lion was big, almost as big as he was, it seemed like, and not really afraid of him. It moved, though. That was all he wanted, even if it was to a spot that was a little less advantageous for him. Ganelon shifted backwards to get his back to the water. If he had to he'd hit the water and swim to shore. Doubtless it would be cold as hell and might kill him anyway, but if he had to take his chances he would. The animal jumped on top of..he didn't know what that was. It took the high ground. Ganelon stopped with his back to the rail and didn't look away from it, gray eyes fixed on its yellow ones. And then it began to speak.

The wolf's only sign of suprise was a slight raising of his hackles. What devilry was this? Lions didn't talk. If they did, it was in a language that only they knew. He bared his teeth into another warning growl, to make his intentions as clear as possible. No, he didn't want to fight. Whatever had caused this cat to be able to talk was, doubtless, much greater in wizardry than anyone he'd ever known. He cleared his throat but didn't respond to it's taunting. So, in response (he assumed) it dragged its claws across the surface of the..object. Whatever this was that he was on. Today was a day full of firsts for him. Ganelon was never coming back here.

He kept the wince off his face, despite the fact that the noise hurt his ears, and, when it stopped, tried to remember everything he'd ever learned about wizards. Not that much, honestly. They had familiars, which was obviously this lion, and they could curse a wolf if they knew their name. Ganelon would have to be careful not to say his. And if one knew the wizard's name one could destroy them somehow. He didn't know how. Not much good, this. He decided there wasn't much point in talking and instead starting trying to think of a way out of this that didn't involve swimming. Kept his eyes on his opponent, like always. Waited.

The mutt failed to respond, but she could see there was something in his eyes that was triggered by her. The pitiful creature simply let out a growl, and a cackle left the woman's lips. Her heavily accented voice falling from her dark lips in a sneer, dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh I quiver with fear."
She growled, the last word leaving her lips a snarl as she leaned over the edge of the roof. A maniacal grin bared her massive fangs, and she resumed her relaxed posture. She began chuckling, large pale golden pools half lidded as she reared her head back as the mirth overtook her. This one definitely wasn't the talkative type, and it was oh so boring. Her long tail flicked and she felt like she needed to make the stranger talk. Standing, she wandered the roof, flicking snow and ice from the flat sheet of metal. A thick beam of metal continued outward a few more feet on each side, and she padded out onto the one closest to the ivory lupine.
"Not a talkative one, are you?"
She leered, lowering her front half closer to the canine with a vicious grin on her face. She was trying to incite fear, a reaction, something to entertain her before she was forced to resort to her games. Standing, she returned to the roof and paced it some more. She adored her games, but the terror of the trees was sure that her newfound plaything would not find them as pleasurable as the tawny beast did. They usually involved much bloodshed and pain, something the monster delighted in above all else. Maybe this pitiful creature could provide some fun after all.
"If you're not going to talk, can you at least give me your name so I can address you as something other than mutt?"
She inquired, though in reality she did not care, she just wanted to see how far she could push the wolf. She looked over her powerful shoulder, fixing her ghostly yellow gaze on the canid while she moved back and forth, from one ledge, across the front of the metal roof, to the other ledge. Thick, corded muscles rippled beneath a shining coat of dusty gold, and the beast waited for a response.

It spoke again, and he sucked in a breath but still didn't respond. Was it taunting him? Where was its master? Ganelon glanced away to check the area nearby, saw nothing, and immediately returned his attention to the cat. The wizard must be hiding in the trees or on the riverbank. Ganelon wondered how he'd missed the presence of another wolf.

Although if said wolf was a wizard, would he have even noticed their appearance? What if they were a druid, and could shift shape? He listened to the beast's talking. Some vague threats and, not unexpectedly, a request for his name. Ganelon couldn't really help smirking a bit. As if he would be caught so easily. A better wolf - a poet or similar - would speak to the cat and try to trick it into saying its own name, or the name of its master, but Ganelon was a simple soldier and not clever enough for that. Best to just keep his mouth shut and his eyes open. He didn't know any counterspells to fend off the demon and he didn't want to let the beast get an edge on him. If it attacked he would defend himslf. Until then he'd wait it out and see if it's master showed himself.

If not he would jump for it, much as he didn't want to and as dangerous as the icy water would be. He'd have to hope he found a dry place to warm himself almost immediately afterwards. It didn't take long to freeze to death in this kind of weather, and the addition of what had to be near freezing water would hasten his demise. Hypothermia would set in within seconds of his hitting the water and death within minutes. He'd have to force himself to make the shore and find some kind of shelter. An old badger sett or a stand of trees. Either one would do. Even a pile of dead leaves under the snow might work well, if they hadn't rotted. Then he'd just have to survive the night. It wouldn't be easy. He might or might not make it.

Or he might end up fighting a lion. His chances honestly weren't much better. Ganelon had come pretty close to freezing to death before, and pretty close to bleeding to death. He preferred the former. For some reason the idea of becoming a frozen carcass until spring, when some random animal would stumble on his thawing corpse, appealed to him in a way that being drained of his blood and left to die on an alien construct in the middle of a river didn't. He'd take his chances with the wizard and its familiar.

This wolf seemed silent for a reason, and whatever this reason was, it was getting extremely annoying. The cat snarled in annoyance, leaping down from her perch on the roof and screaming at the wolf, spittle flying from her mouth as every tooth in her maw was bared. The screech was like the sound made when she had dragged her claws across the metal roof, only deeper and much, much louder. She was angry now, she was ready to kill, to destroy, to rend. Rounded audits flattened against her skull as she emptied her lungs, pale optics narrowed until she was out of breath. Taking a deep breath, she glared at the stranger and lashed her tail back and forth in annoyance.
"You are on my last nerve, mutt."
She snarled, and disappeared into the shadowed doorway. The liquid she had tasted earlier had offered a slight lowering of her rage and need to destroy, for a few moments. Now it held much appeal, because the monster was now hell bent on getting this wolf to talk, to explain himself. Unsheathed claws dug furrows into the floorboards inside, leaving a trail behind her as she slunk to that room at the end of the hall, the one untouched by wolves. Finally she reached it, and began to lap up the foul substance, for she knew that she would need it to keep her newest plaything alive. She wanted to make him talk now, she wanted to hear his voice now, wanted to hear his vocal chords rumble, and then she would kill him, let her ears hear his last words. The tawny beast lifted her cranium and licked the remaining liquids from her lips. Venting her rage silently, she stood on her hind paws and toppled a stack of boxes and things, listening to the satisfying shatter of wood, glass, and the splatter of rotting foods. She panted a bit, and turned to leave the room and return to her victim.

A lesser wolf probably would have flinched at the noises coming out of the feline's mouth. Ganelon didn't really. Sort of a twitch of the eye, maybe. The cat finished up the noises, snarled some stupid crap at him, and suddenly spun around and dissapeared through a hole into the interior of the structure. Ganelon frowned. Was this a trick? Did it really just walk away? Was he supposed to follow it? Not that he would. That would be stupid. He waited a couple seconds to see if it would come back, and when it didn't he shrugged to himself and trotted at no great speed across the surface of the object to the land side. Glanced over his shoulder, heard a loud smashing noise from inside. Weird.

The wolf jumped again, eight feet down onto the beach, limped a few steps growling at the pain from his jarred feet, and looked back up at the top of the..the whatever. The cat's head didn't appear. Why had it just wandered off? Was its master trying to give it directions in secret? This was rather confusing. He remained on his feet, curious now that he had enough distance to run off and wasn't facing a choice between freezing to death and being torn to pieces and dying of blood loss. Ganelon could easily run away from here and disappear into the woods. Sure, a wizard was out there somewhere, but he could kill one wolf as easily as any other. Without their familiar to protect them wizards were pretty much helpless.

He kept his mouth shut and waited for the lion to reappear. Doubtless it would be angry that he'd gotten away. Although, honestly, he didn't know what it expected him to do. Ganelon had no inention of passing up an easy chance to escape. Maybe talking was all it could do and it wasn't honestly any smarter than normal lions were. Away from their prides or whatever they were an easy target for two or three wolves.

He didn't really plan to test the theory too much. Ganelon was only one wolf and he'd survived a long time by remembering that fact of life.

Rounded audits would flick to catch the sound of the filthy mutt's attempt at escape, his claws clicking on the wooden boards on the deck of the boat. A muffled thud would announce his lack of presence on the ship, driving the feline into action. Powerful forelimbs would pull her forwards, long hind limbs would launch her even father forwards once she hit the ground. She moved at an astonishing rate, and was soon leaping from the deck of the boat in one fluid motion. The beast landed mere feet from the dog, and a snarl of anger rose from her throat and out her maw. Ears would flatten and long tail would lash back and forth.
"I'm not done with you, mutt."
She growled, her heavily accented voice raising in timbre while she growled at the canine. Pale golden orbs burned with a hellfire none could sate with anything short of their own death, but that was not what she sought, not anymore.
"Your manners are despicable, dog. Speak to me, so that I may leave this place with but one satisfaction."
She snarled, moving closer and closer to the ivory wolf. Thick muscles would ripple with strength and power beneath her shining tawny coat, and the cat veered right, away from the wolf at the last moment, turning to circle it instead. She was getting impatient, and if it came to a fight, a fight this wolf would get. But surely he would not enjoy this one. The monster who kept him here, however, she would enjoy the bloodshed very much. A steady growl rumbled in her throat, low and constant, as she worked her way around the wolf, acidic pools fixed on the lupine, never leaving his heavily scarred frame.

It didn't take long for the beast to leap down off of the alien thing and begin snarling words at him again. Ganelon watched it circle him once and then backed up, putting his back to the water again. The lion would have to enter the water to get behind him and he rather doubted it would do that. Besides, this way he still had an escape route, even if it was a highly uncomfortable one. It got closer and closer and he tensed his muscles a few times, warming them up to fight or swim away depending on which seemed like it would have a greater chance of survival.

It snarled at him about manners and he couldn't help laughing at it. Manners? Him? He was a career soldier and the frontier wasn't a place for politeness anyway. It appeared that this creature was grabbing at straws and his silence was making it quite angry. Too bad. The wolf stayed mute, a little grin crossing his face before he calmly and decisively took three steps backwards into the water.

The cold shocked his system almost immediately, forcing a quick breath in before he got control of himself. Also before his feet immediately went numb. Four feet back and he stopped, the icy water slowly drifing around the middle of his legs, gray eyes stoic. WOuld it follow him into the water? If it did it would give him the edge. He'd been in colder water before and still forced himself to function. He doubted the lion had, wizard or no wizard.

He waited for it, normally concise thoughts slowly growing muddled. Temper rising. How obvious did he have to make it that he wasn't interested in fighting? Why was this beast and, apparently, its wizard master, so insistent on it? Had he made any powerful enemies that he didn't know about?

This wolf was getting on her last nerve, and now she was sick and tired of it all. Massive paws would allow thick, curved claws to glide out, and a swipe would send the mutt sprawling into the water, where the beast would waste no time in tearing it to pieces mercilessly, a maniacal laugh falling from her dark lips the entire time. She was loving this, the hot blood pouring into the freezing water, warming it up just that little bit, and at the same time keeping it from staining her beautiful fur. When the victim was unrecognizable, she slunk from the water and leapt onto the deck of the boat, disappearing into the bowels of the metal ship for a nap. Oh how the monster longed for that daydream to become a reality, but she was in no mood to dirty her paws with this pitiful creatures blood while it cowered in the freezing water. Instead, an exasperated sigh would escape dark lips. Massive paws would spread her mass over the thick snow as she slunk forwards, pale eyes fixed upon the lupine the entire time. A little water was supposed to stop her? The act must have been a joke against the feline, since cats were supposed to despise water. In reality, the pale brown she cat cared not about water, in it or out of it, there was no difference to her. "Now dog, we both know you aren't in the mood for a swim." She growled impatiently, ghostly yellow optics narrowed in annoyance. "However, my company seems to be your least favourite thing." She snarled in disgust, turning swiftly and trotting smoothly over the snow, and disappearing from sight. She was done with this canine, and all the pain it was causing her. She was tired of her games, and who knows, maybe she could find it again soon and try again. A chuckle of malicious joy escaped her jaws, and she made her way back to her forest. .:Exit Zafira:. Talk like this