Though Ronan had obviously never met a human before, he was more acquainted with what they'd left behind than most. Their shapes were sharper than most, edges more defined with a level of craftsmanship wolves with their paws would never quite be able to mimic.  Not that many cared to try, Ronan certainly didn't. The room was wide and spacious, scenic in a way he didn't really appreciate, stalactites dripped from the ceiling as he passed one of the carved benches, raised high enough off the ground to make a comfortable perch. If he felt like resting, that was.

Light from some source he couldn't quite place reflected off the crystalline walls, making the red glow of his markings somewhat moot. Not that he used himself as a light or anything, that'd be lame.

Rather he just needed a moment, he'd spent weeks hunting down the infected, wolves and other animals alike; it felt like there was no end to it. Things hadn't quite spiralled out of control as it had in his homeland-he wasn't quite sure if anything could ever be quite so terrible as it was there-but it was bad, and being the man he was he always presumed it'd just get worse. Because it pretty much always did.

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It felt like this place was made in her image, crafted intricately just for Vanta by whatever deity might or might not exist. She had spent more time here then she had planned - had come to hone her skills, to consider hard her path in life, and to attempt to contact her mother once more. It had been so long that she could hardly remember the sound of Zee's voice. Had she done something wrong, to lose her mother's favor? Vanta had hmm'd and haw'd over that question for seasons now, wishing and bargaining, fighting and training, but no matter how desperately she needed her.... the Fatalis matriarch never appeared.

Rumor had it that .... something, was happening outside the cathedral. Only echoes of it did manage to reach her, but enough that Vanta grew uneasy. She was putting off her departure, had planned a trip back across Auster to Boreas seasons ago, but every time she made to leave, the crystal cathedral pulled her back.

The stranger before her was an unexpected divergence from her normal routine, almost infuriatingly unexpected, even. Who was this man, and why did he look so comfortable in the place Vanta called home? Perhaps he was hiding from whatever monstrosities were happening across the continent. "Is it so bad out there that even the big strong men have been driven into hiding?"

"Speech"

Ronan turned, side eying the stranger as a derisive snort pushed through his wide nose; frustrated at himself for being caught unaware, only for it to pivot in the stranger's direction at her smarmy little comment.

His stare was deadpan as he let the silence linger on for an uncomfortable moment, the steady drip of water from the ceiling filled the space between them. It felt like he couldn't hide from the infection even if he wanted to- he wasn't so self-absorbed to think it had followed him here, but it did feel like the universe was making a mockery of him. And that after all this time, all the shit he just couldn't see the humour in it. Not that he'd ever been an outright funny guy, but hadn't always been a depressed asshole either, so.

"You think you're safe down here?"He scoffed as he kicked a rusted coin aside, his ears flicking instinctively as it clinked against the stone. It was obvious she knew nothing and Ronan was feeling charitable enough to educate her on such matters. "We're underground, they're worms. Think about it." He tsked, stepping away so as to not have to look at her.

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Vanta hadn’t been expecting a charming conversationalist, but it really would have been nice if this stranger was at least half one. The air about him screamed brooding loner, the kind who’d spent far too much time wallowing in his own misery and decided the rest of the world should feel bad about it too. She might’ve even rolled her eyes if she wasn’t so intent on not giving him the satisfaction.

His deadpan stare was met with cool composure, though internally she was already cataloging his traits through his demeanor - arrogant, dismissive, probably thought his problems were bigger than anyone else’s. The kind of man who looked at the world and saw only its failings, but did nothing to try and solve them.

But then, just as she was ready to brush him off entirely, he dropped the word. worms.

Her composure slipped - only for a second - before she snapped it back into place. "Worms?" Vanta wished she could keep the interest from her voice. "You're kidding, right? That's what's got everyone running scared? Worms?"

"Speech"

Ronan's expression smushed further, his distaste so apparent it had all of his face wrinkling. Ignorance wasn't exactly a sin; the wolves of Boreas simply didn't know any better, but he found himself bristling all the same as the beginnings of a growl rumbled in his throat. Wolves and hounds alike had died in the thousands, and that was just back where he'd come from; suffering on an unprecedented scale that a pampered and prissy bitch like her was simply incapable of understanding.

He turned quickly and closed the distance between them with heavy strides, barging his shoulder into hers- though was just about mindful enough to pull his wings in to keep the sharpened tips from jabbing her in the face. He was pissed, but he wasn't trying to gouge an eye out, today at least.

"Lets see how brave you are when you see not even two day old pups be ripped apart from the inside out by worms. Or when they burst from some poor fuckers eye socket, make him act like some rabid animal well beyond saving." He took in a shuddering breath, he hated all of this, wished he didn't know either.

"And that's all without mentioning the giant ones. Not like that where I come from."

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Vanta stumbled back a half-step, her claws scratching against the smooth stone as Ronan's shoulder rammed into hers. Her lips pulled back instinctively, baring crystalline teeth in a reflexive show of offense. It wasn’t like she’d been expecting an apology, but the audacity of him - a stranger, storming into her space and then shoving her - was enough to set Vanta's hackles on edge.

Her initial instinct was to snap at him, but the venom in his words stopped her short. There was something raw there, something jagged and real that Vanta wasn’t prepared for. Her gaze narrowed as she tried to gauge the truth in his wild claims. Two-day-old pups, ripped apart? Worms bursting from eye sockets? A chill ran down her spine at the macabre picture he had painted. For all his bluster and bitterness, the weight in the stranger's voice felt heavy enough to crush her doubts flat. She’d been ready to dismiss him as just another dumb, arrogant male, running his dumb, arrogant mouth to make himself sound important, but this...

"You’re serious." She said finally, her voice quieter then she’d like. "You're... actually serious."

The cathedral’s usually comforting stillness was suddenly... suffocating. She inclined her head toward the ceiling, sweeping her gaze across the crystals that hung gracefully low, yet imagining the terror reigning up above. "Giant ones? Just how big are we talking? Like... bigger than you, or bigger than the cathedral?"

"Speech"

Ronan's jaw clenched, the pressuring making his teeth throb slightly as he stared at her, red meeting blue. She wasn't as stupid as she looked then, because the weight of his words hit hard enough to break her carefully crafted facade, the flatness making way for doubt. A sort of existential dread that Ronan and hounds like him were all too familiar with.

He grunted in confirmation, yanking himself away to pace across the room. The uncertainty bothered him the most, because what was true and infallible at home didn't apply here; for all he knew this was a different but similar species of worm, perhaps a different, or even adjacent life cycle. Because where he came from, the infection was far more oppressive, the whole city was practically overrun, but the worms never grew larger than a limb.And yet from a distance he'd seen it with his own eyes, a literal giant fire breathing worm.

It made him feel small, worthless, because he simply didn't know. Just couldn't understand.

"Tall as the castle walls. Maybe bigger."

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Vanta watched him pace, the tension rolling off him in waves so thick it felt like it might crack the crystalline walls around them. For a moment, she could see past the sharp edges of his attitude, into the frustration, the helplessness gnawing at him like those demonic worms he described.

And she hated it. Hated the way it made her own chest tighten, hated the way it brought her unease to the surface. She even hated him - just a little - for dragging her into his nightmare.

And what was worse… he didn’t seem to have a plan.

“You’ve seen them yourself.” She said, her voice sharp. “You’ve seen what they can do, and what? You’re just running? Hiding? You don’t strike me as the kind of guy to sit around while pups are being torn apart, but maybe I’m just a shit judge of character.”

She stepped toward him, her stride deliberate, the teal gleam of her markings catching faintly in the crystalline light. Fuck ‘em, Vanta wasn’t about to sit idle, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to let this stranger’s defeatist attitude rub off on her.

“So what’s being done about it?” She challenged, planting herself firmly in his line of sight. “You can’t tell me this is happening and just… no one’s stepping in. Surely someone has some kind of plan, some kind of fight in them?”

"Speech"

Ronan shot her yet another look, scathing hot, not appreciating her insinuation in the slightest. He was doing his best and though he wouldn't dare offer her even a crumb of ammunition she might use against him, deep down, where it hurt the most he had to agree it wasn't enough. Because nothing ever would be. Cutting off his agitated pacing, he slammed on the breaks, his wings flaring out yet again in warning-though he didn't always like what he had to do, Ronan was a violent man all the same.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of." His words were a snarl, muzzle all wrinkled as his tongue flicked out over his front teeth."For weeks I have done nothing but hunt them down. For every one that I kill three take their place."

Some were too far gone, but others had begged him not to hurt them, to show mercy. They didn't understand, or clung too desperately onto hope for the truth to properly sink in. If they died thinking he was a monster then- the thought made him hiss through his teeth, the tension in his jaw forming a headache at the back of his skull.

"I'm a doing all I fucking can- who are you judge me?"The hate in his voice even took him by surprise, the sheer force of it. The desire to follow through and hurt.

He wasn't even going to try and approach the topic of the giant ones with a ten-foot barge pole, today was shitty enough as is.

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Vanta didn’t flinch at his outburst. If anything, the reaction only confirmed what she already suspected. This wasn’t just anger, it was grief, frustration, and guilt all tangled together and threatening to boil over. The flare of his wings, the sharpness of his snarl, even the hate dripping from his words - none of it cowed her. She’d stood against worse, and she'd faced enough monsters in her life to know that the ones who truly meant harm didn’t waste breath telling you about it.

"I’m not judging you." Vanta sighed, her crystalline gaze softening. She knew what it was to carry the weight of the world and find your best wasn’t enough. "I’m judging the shitty situation."

The stillness of the cathedral pressed around them, heavy and expectant, broken only by the faint dripping of water that echoed through the wide chamber. Her paws itched to move, to act, to do anything but stand still beneath the weight of the crystal-touched walls. The grandeur of the place - once a source of comfort and safety - now seemed stifling and oppressive.

She lifted her gaze to his, hoping he could see the resolve there. "If you’re doing all you can and they’re still winning, then what’s next? Because I’m not interested in standing here trading insults while more of them crawl out of the dirt." Vanta was a stranger to him, but surely if it were as bad out there as he said, he would take any help he could get. Right?

"Speech"

Now that Ronan had been given cause-in his mind at least- to take a disliking to her, everything she did got on his nerves. Even if she thought she was telling the truth, out of sheer stubbornness he refused to believe her, because everyone always judged him. Shoved him into a position of responsibility and forced him to make choices they couldn't stomach, only to turn on him and snarl, say it was all his fault. Maybe it helped them sleep better at night, having someone to point the finger at, but something had to give and Ronan was already well beyond his breaking point.

He moved away then, not wanting to even look at her, and padded to the edge of the room as he eyed the corridor beyond.

"They tend to hide underground, find somewhere dark and warm and just lay low. Lot of the time they don't even realise they're sick, ate something they shouldn't have, or if they do they're just scared. The infection...compels them to, I think." It wasn't as if he had it down to a science; certainly now that things had spiralled well out of the realm he was familiar with.

"If you insist on making yourself useful, I came here to check the tunnels." He paused then, turning to stare over his shoulder, his gaze accusatory. "You'll have to kill them, even if they beg you not to. Can you do that?"

Vanta blinked, her ears flicking back at his words as her confusion broke through the sharp tension. Her head tilted slightly, crystalline eyes narrowing as she stared at his back, trying to piece together his meaning. "Wait, the worms... talk? And beg?" A faint frown pulled upon her lips. Why should she care about the feelings of these creatures, or what they might say? From what the stranger had described, they were monsters. A danger to everything she held dear. Their cries - if they even had cries - would mean nothing to her.

She trod forward to where he faced the tunnels, stepping into his path and turning on him. "Enough of the mystery. What exactly am I getting myself into here? I'm no coward, I will face down the threat, but I need to know what to expect. Are we going to find a sad, scared, cathedral-sized parasite hiding in the dark down there, begging for it's life?" Her claws clicked faintly against the stone as she took one more step into his space, raising a brow. "So tell me, Red. What’s waiting for us in the dark? Monsters? Victims? Or something in between?"

"Speech"

She didn't understand, had even less puzzle pieces at her disposal than he did. It was all he'd known for the longest time; and though Ronan was being entirely unfair he hated the questions, the fact she had the privilege of not knowing. His anger made him unreasonable, his responses snappish and overall not very helpful, but it wasn't as simple as taking a few steps back because he just couldn't escape. When he thought he had, it all came crashing down again.

He sighed, all withering, like a tree that was rotting yet still somehow alive. "Infected. Wolves like you or I. Or deer, or cats. Anything, anyone, the infection doesn't discriminate. They're sick and even if it isn't their fault, they must die because if left unchecked it spreads and spreads- there'll be nothing left. " His voice hitched slightly then, only for his expression to harden, tasted blood in his mouth. He'd bitten his tongue again.

The ground rumbled beneath his paws, at the beginning everyone had assumed it was just seismic activity, now it very well might be something else.

"That is all I know. Where I come from, this is all there is. Just the infection and the spread. They don't- they're not giant monsters the size of metal towers, they don't eat wolves whole. I can't tell you what they are, what they want or what the fuck is even going on because I don't know. It's not supposed to be this."

Well, that was unexpected. Vanta nodded - more to herself then anything - and tried to come to terms with this new information. It was all so confusing, and the man seemed to be enjoying being intentionally vague about it all. So there weren't worms the size of buildings, eating wolves whole? How had they gone from discussing dangerous, monstrous parasites to... infected victims? She shook her head, huffing softly under her breath. At least she knew how to kill a wolf, a deer, or a cat. That, at least, was straightforward.

The ground beneath her paws trembled faintly, the vibrations crawling up her legs. Her claws flexed instinctively, scraping the stone floor. Her body stilled. The sensation was faint, but enough to pull her attention briefly to the walls and ceiling, her crystalline gaze narrowing in suspicion. When the trembling waned, she had to take a steadying breath. "Alright then." She said sharply. "Lead the way."

With a toss of her head, Vanta gestured for him to advance, stepping back just enough to let him pass. When he moved, she fell in beside him, her stride perfectly measured. She had no intention of trailing like some defenseless creature in need of guidance or protection - she wasn’t that kind of female.

The silence as they walked didn’t last long. Vanta's mind churned with questions, and it was only a matter of time before they began to spill out. "How does the infection spread?" She asked first. "How do you kill them without becoming infected yourself?"

Her gaze flicked toward him as she continued, her tone tightening. "And how do I know you aren’t infected already, with how many you’ve put to death?"

Can I even trust you?

"Speech"

Ronan would have been...content was too strong of a word, but alright with walking in silence. So of course she had to speak up, her questions tinged with a sort of doubt that he knew wouldn't last long when she saw it for herself. He exhaled sharply as they left the relative safety of the Cathedral, the connecting tunnels were long and winding, getting lost down here was as real of a risk as the infection itself. Darkness settled in, his glow wouldn't be enough to light their way, but as wolves their vision was decent enough to make do.

"Infected carrion, bites, body fluids. It's fast acting, symptoms can show within a couple of hours, but it doesn't take a hold right away. It's cruel, they suffer and…eventually they're no longer themselves, just rabid meat the worms writhe inside. At that point they just-force themselves out from the mouth, eyes, sometimes make new holes. The worms will tear their host apart if it means reaching someone new. Seen them pin someone down and...vomit worms into their mouth." His nose wrinkled, had too many anecdotal mental images that he didn't want to think about.

"The worms themselves aren't- I won't say they're not dangerous, but they're small, you can squish them. You just need to be quick, careful."But he knew the risk, was a well aware he was lucky to have even gotten this far at all. At her insinuation, he stopped and shot her yet another scathing look, as if the wind had blown and his expression was frozen in place.

"You'd know, we wouldn't even be talking."

The tunnels were stifling, the air thick with a damp chill that clung to her fur. It was a far cry from the crystalline beauty of the cathedral, and though her eyes adjusted well enough, the darkness pressed in on all sides. Ronan’s markings offered a faint, red glow, but it wasn’t enough to light their way entirely. It did, however, play strangely across Vanta's own mutation - the crystals in her fur, fangs, and eyes picking up his blood-red light.

Her ears twitched as she listened, her brow furrowing slightly. The things he described painted a macabre picture in her mind, so vivid she could almost imagine herself living it; the writhing worms bursting from their hosts, the violent, rabid chaos of it all. Her stomach twisted at the thought, but outwardly she remained steady, her steps deliberate and her gaze forward, claws clicking softly against the stone as they moved through the darkened tunnels.

"Sounds like hell." She admitted, her voice low.

When he stopped and shot her that scathing look, Vanta huffed softly, turning to meet his glare with a raised brow. She leaned over and gave him a nudge with her shoulder, careful to avoid the saber-like wingtips that extended parallel to his arm. "Relax, Red." She said, her tone light but not mocking. "You know you’d be wondering the same thing if you were me."

She pulled back just enough to give him his space but kept her pace beside him, her crystalline gaze cutting briefly in his direction. "Doesn’t mean I think you’re infected." She added. "Just means I’m cautious. Doing my due diligence. And I don’t think you’re the kind of wolf who’d blame me for that."

Her focus returned to the path ahead, ears swiveling as she listened for anything that might be waiting in the shadows. "Besides." She said with a ghost of a grin. "if you were infected, I’d just have to put you down myself."

"Speech"

Calling it hell was putting it lightly. And he was a grown ass man at this point, more than capable of fighting for scraps and defending himself if need be, but it was the pups and those who couldn't that deserved so much better. Cause they never stood a chance, along with whole sections of the city he'd left condemned; even knowing the alternative was unthinkably worse didn't make him feel any better. At this point he'd come to accept that nothing ever would.

The girl had every right to be wary; it would have been more troubling if she'd been blindly accepting of it all and simply took him at his word. But then she touched him, no doubt meant to be a friendly gesture, wolves and hounds alike were social creatures so it shouldn't have been an issue, but it was and he wasn't entirely sure why. Couldn't afford to dig too deep into that, wouldn't like what he'd find.

"Don't touch me." The words came out all garbled by a snarl as he whipped around, arching as he made to lunge for her, his teeth snapping at her nose.

Overreaction much?

His snarl was sharp and his lunge set her muscles coiling instinctively, her claws digging into the stone below. But she didn’t flinch - didn’t back away. Her pride wouldn’t allow it, she was a Fatalis after all. Her lips pulled back just enough to bare the tips of her teeth, crystalline sabers flashing in the lowlight, a low growl starting to rumble in her throat. Every muscle in her body spoke clear her warning: If he was stupid enough to make a move upon her, she would defend herself.

But then, before she could respond further, the sound of a scrape - a sharp, echoing noise - cut through the air. It was so faint at first that she almost dismissed it, but the shadows in the periphery of her vision began to... almost ripple.

It was too close, moved too fast - but when the infected wolf lunged from the darkness, it was Vanta who ultimately moved first.

Her claws dug hard into the stone, giving her some traction as she shoved the larger wolf aside with all the force she could muster. She could not shove him far - not when he outweighed her by so much - and certainly could not ensure he be moved entirely out of the attacker's reach, and so would take the hit instead. She hardly had a moment to grit her teeth before the infected wolf hit her like a freight train, its weight crashing into her with bone-crushing force. This was a creature that had no self-preservation, no desire to mitigate the damage it's own charge would cause. It's only goal was to infect.

The brutal collision forced the breath from her lungs and sent her sprawling, claws scraping for traction as she hit the ground hard. The creature was on her in a heartbeat, its weight pressing down upon her, it's hot, rancid breath washing over her face as it snapped at her throat. Vanta twisted, barely avoiding the bite, but its claws raked across her flank and she let out a sharp snarl of pain. She managed to wedge her forelegs between them, pushing against its chest with everything she had, but it wasn’t enough. The thing was stronger, faster, and utterly single-minded in its desire.

When it's jaw opened, revealing a squirming mass of worms deep within the creature's throat, Vanta froze.

Fuck.

"Speech"