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Werewolves (RP20) When the Mountain Replied

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Sabrina watched the two trudge indoors, then looked over her shoulder as Liam disappeared under the tree line. She puffed a small sigh and shut the door.

Presently, she came into the main room and sat down on the couch opposite to where Bianca lay. She crossed her legs and laid her hands in her lap, her tail curled around her ankles. Tall and straight, ears up tall. Lines and curves like a statue carved of marble: cold and hard, yet by appearances soft and transparent. An illusion.

She looked at her pack mates, thought captives every one in this moment. Theo, crestfallen, contained, gazing out the window in longing, like a wild thing that should be set free. Bianca, unconscious, chained within her own body. Toby, a prisoner of his mind.

At length, she sighed and rubbed her temple. "This mountain affords us no peace," she muttered, before standing. "Speak candidly, gentlemen," she said. "We're two months shy of a year. Do either of you believe we shall ever truly form a Pack?"

Outside, Kratos approached the pit and looked down.

In the blue pool of light caused by a perfect round moon, he saw the image of the mountain wolf; a creature of the evening, athletically built and well proportioned, tall, curved, and strong, with long ears and a bushy tail. The wild-haired woman was gone; her brown eyes had gone yellow; her tossed-sea of curls had turned straight and wiry. A thick mane now covered her neck with hackles, and claws armed each finger and toe. Concealed in perfected form in nature's guise, the woman's sun-touched complexion was hidden under a moon-mottled pelt. She looked like an entirely different creature.

Tiffany, meanwhile, saw the Calagathorm Alpha's shadow appear over her, and she looked up.

A black silhouette stood against the warm light of the cabin with a perfect round moon above his ears. Both his eyes had turned into reflective discs, peering down at her through the shadows of his form. His face and his thoughts were hidden from her; she could perceive only that eerie inhuman light in his eyes.

At first, no words were exchanged. The clearing was allowed to fall quiet, though Kratos minded the woods and his pack. Tiffany did not feel like she could discern him well enough to ask for her freedom again, not after Argyros' voice had solemnly rang out only to go unanswered. But something had to be said to break the silence.

"Look," Tiffany said. Her voice yielded the doubts and worry of her mind regarding the aforementioned chief, though she said nothing about it. "I said before, we don't mean you any harm."

Her captor did not reply.

"We can lead the hunters off. It was an accident we were even here at all. We were trying to go home."

Again, the black silhouette did not answer.

"Look, if your name is Kratos Shragron then you're claiming to be the alpha's faction. If you are who you say you are, then we're not enemies."

"Tiffany Tycoon," Kratos said.

Tiffany's ears stood erect and her heart beat slowed. It felt like the hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and maybe it would have, if she were human.

Kratos saw her hackles rise, but he needed no further confirmation. Her identity was confirmed the minute she said her human name while he stood across from her in the pit earlier that afternoon.

"Compassion was your calling card, then, and it has not changed."

Tiffany's heart began to beat more wildly again.
"How do you know who I am?" Her voice fluttered with surprise and fear. Her mind was suddenly racing through her encounters with innumerable devious and cunning characters. The question was a demand; a demand for the enemy to uncloak itself.

"I will not release you to be the prey of the Svalnaglas or the hunters," Kratos said simply. "You will have to trust in my compassion as I once did in yours."

*****

Jenn and John screamed simultaneously, and John fell backwards into the cave.

"Miss Chandler?" Jenn called in a trembling voice. "Miss Chandler, is that you? We're sorry for trespassing, really!"

*****

Timothy continued his quiet prowl, sniffing about the path as he went. The path was narrow, and curved slightly, but did not waver to the left or the right...

All at once, a face and a name clicked to the forefront of Tiffany's mind. But this face... it had nothing to do with - his voice, perhaps? How could it be - but how could it be denied? Of all her previous encounters, there was only one match in her mind. She didn't know how she remembered it after all these years, much less how her mind had found any similarity between it and the great black werewolf looming over her. Still... she dared to test the name in the open air.

"Sssss...Sam?" She said slowly.

Kratos said nothing.

"Sam from dance?" Tiffany was struggling to recall what she could about him. How had the quiet giant from high school come to be her captor? How could he be a werewolf? She'd always been... if he had been a werewolf before, how had it escaped her notice? He couldn't have been... but then again, their interactions in school were so brief, only fragmentary memories remained.

This enlightenment could not be taken as a reason to trust. Too many years had elapsed. Too many life experiences had created too great of an unknown. And to what compassion did the alpha now refer? Tiffany could not remember.

The response was puzzling but not unwelcome. A wolfish smile (in the literal sense) graced her features, although of course those in the cave would not see it. The fear in the man's voice put her at ease, for she could not imagine a few hunters replying with such fear. And indeed, if she had to pose as the pack's beta to get it well... who would be there to know?

"Yes. Now. Leave. Can you get. To your car. Safely?"

Each word was enunciated with special care. It sounded little like her own human voice. But she supposed to a frightened pair of humans hunkering in a cave, it could perhaps pass as at least human.

***

Ionone watched the interaction. She said nothing. All that peered back from the pit were the empty hallows of her lavender eyes. If any emotional reaction was had to the revelation of Tiffany and the alpha's former acquaintanceship, she did not demonstrate it.

At length, she surmised this alpha was exactly what she feared him to be. The compassionate man. The man who did what he did out of goodness, rather than ruthless practicality. While it might spare them presently in the pit, she feared far more what the far-reaching consequences would be. Would he keep them there indefinitely for protection? Would he risk the ire of hunters and the Svalnaglas alike? And for what? Out of respect to a passing compassion Tiffany had once graced him, one she herself could not even remember?

Her face turned to him. She had not spoken to him once in the many times he had peered into the pit. She had been content to stay as her companion's shadow. But now she would not resist it, not when the question she had pondered those many years came rising to the surface.

"Can your pack's resources truly afford your kindness?" she asked him. Her voice was like a dark river. Soft, but a current threading beneath it. Slumbering, but awaiting the wrath of the current to take her.

Logan followed Timothy, her ears and eyes moving about for any for signs of their tresspasser.

***

Bianca stirred a little..

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