By Chance or Fate [Vanator]

[Kahno]

Timestamp: 50th Day of Fall, 512 AV The breeze chilled the air, unbroken by the many evergreens that made up the fringe. The gust twisted and wound its way around the trunks like a snake and found its way between the hairs of Kahno’s dense coat. The creature was tickled, and leaned forward onto his front paws to scratch behind his ear with a black-clawed hind leg. Satisfied with his morning hunt, belly full, he had the rest of the day to himself to do whatever. What exactly he had planned to do with it had yet to be decided, however. The wolf looked around, cunning, golden eyes bright and alert. Perhaps he would stake out a place for a nap. No, he decided, that would be a waste of a beautiful day. Maybe instead he would do a little tracking and see where the prey were hiding. Sniffing out hideouts was always a tedious job, but it proved convenient when he was desperate for food. He could lay in the shadows and wait for critters to come out to be snatched up with his teeth. A rippling growl set through his stomach, a sound of his breakfast digesting. A dark tongue slipped through his mouth, licking the remnants of the gore from his chin and nose. Kahno let his body weight go and slipped to the ground to lie on his side. The sun peeking through the canopy felt good against his face, a dash of warmth to cut through the chilly fall air. Another gurgle rattled his stomach as he decided maybe he would just relax for a moment. There would be plenty of time in the day to do something productive. For now, he would be lazy. OOCI know this is short and all, but I wasn't really sure where to go with it! More of an attempt to get us started and build from there!

[Vanator]

Usually, when Vanator left the Sanctuary, he followed the shortest path through the trees to the grasslands. The tall evergreens, widely spaced for a forest, but too close for the Drykas, were unfamiliar to the grasslander. They loomed over him, blocking out the wide open sky, and without a clear line of site in any direction. So, he spent as little time in them as he could. But Sanctuary was his home now. He had learned to find peace on the beach, he was even able to navigate the many streets and alleys of Riverfall. Now, Vanator was going to get himself accustomed to the forest. So clad in his mail shirt and cloak, with a few supplies, and his ax and bow, Vanator exited the gates of the Sanctuary and hooked into the woods.

The forest was not as cluttered with undergrowth as the deciduous woodlands, but Vanator would have had no idea, having lived his life in the Sea of Grass. Sure, there were copses of trees in the plains, but nothing like the expansive coastline forest. There was a collection of ferns and fallen limbs over the carpet of needles. It was cooler in the forest, the sunlight only breaking through in pools where rays could penetrate the full treetops. The Drykas tried to walk lightly, quietly. The tall, noble pines seemed to demand it. Not that the forest was silent. Birds sang out in its upper reaches, and unseen critters scampered across its floor. He was not particularly successful, the soft bed of the forest floor unlike grass. Vanator carried his battle ax in his hand, there could be anything hiding behind the trees, so close and so many.

[Kahno]

The sun shifted across the sky, slanting the rays of light seeping through the forest canopy by miniscule fractions. Brindled muzzle turned upwards, eyelids flitting lazily as Kahno gazed around. With a huff, his jaw plopped on the ground between his outstretched paws. With the exception of all the normal commotion, the forest seemed silent and dull. Nothing was out of place, no frenzied screeching or other chatter that sounded the alert of humans or predators. It was rather peaceful, actually, and enjoyable. Those lazy eyelids masked the amber beneath them as Kahno felt himself begin to doze off. It wasn’t until he was darting somewhere across the line between being awake and the void of being unconscious that he heard it. Something was crunching lightly across the forest floor. Eyes and ears honed in on the perpetrator. Rising slowly, silently, onto all fours, Kahno surveyed the forest. It could not have been an animal; the footsteps were heavy, but not too careless. Something was sneaking about his territory, something he didn’t take too lightly. But what, or who? Creeping through the trees, the wolf searched for the source of the disturbance. He was curious, and slightly irritated. The forest was never a haven. When there wasn’t predators about, there were humans, or the colored humanoids from the city, or some other such being, about. Kahno could easily hide or frighten some of them off, but the ones that walked on two legs tended to carry weapons. Some of them had range. He had watched them before, launching long, pointed sticks at animals with enough force to pierce their flesh. They would take furs, meats, and bones from the felled animals. Never had Kahno been faced with the possibility of becoming someone else’s meal. He wasn’t necessarily afraid, but the idea made him nervous. He was plagued with the curiosity of wanting to know what was going on, but not hardly enough to put himself in a sticky situation. Perhaps they would leave him alone and go about their own business, as would he. It wasn’t worth his life. A twig snapped somewhere out to his right. Kahno froze mid-step and turned his head. The wolf could hear the footfall clearly. Two legs. Ears pinned back as he slinked his way behind the trees and laid in the shadow of a bush. He would wait and watch for the intruder to pass.

[Vanator]

As the Drykas continued to pad through the forest, he inhaled deeply. The scent of pine was very pleasing to him. It was so earthy, as if Caiyha perfumed herself with the aroma. He was trying to get accustomed to observation in the woodland environment. In the plains, one would watch the tops of the grass for movement that was counter to the wind to indicate something moving between the tall blades. Otherwise, larger creatures were quite easy to spot in a landscape with few obstacles.

But the forest was so different. So the man started to watch the sparse undergrowth. The shudder of a fern frond in the still air, the stirring of a limb above, or sound of shuffling in the duff of the forest floor could all indicate that something was about. A flutter of a small leafed plant drew his attention to one side, and his feet stopped in place. Had he seen a shape moving? So obscure was the instant of its appearance that he could not be sure he saw anything. But if he had, it was sizable. Pushing aside a sapling with one hand, his ax still clutched in the other, Vanator took careful steps ahead, training his eyes where he thought he saw the something moving.

[Kahno]

The strong-looking blonde man peeked through the foliage before him. Had Kahno been spotted? Unfortunately, in the evergreen forest, everything was mostly browns and greens. Kahno’s coat was a brindled mess of whites, reds, and greys. He didn’t exactly blend with the surrounding terrain. The ax in the man’s hand was intimidating enough. A brief flash of being charged, the metal blade splitting his skull. Kahno shuddered. He was sure he could outrun the two-pawed beast clad in armor. If he sat still, maybe the man would pass, but he wasn’t exactly hidden. The humans were unpredictable, their motives never making much sense to the wolf. One thing was certain, though; the man had heard something, saw something, sensed something. His focus was directed in Kahno’s general direction. Upon further inspection, something occurred to Kahno. There was something in the way that the man walked, the way he held himself in these woods. What was that he saw in the man’s eyes? Was he nervous? His skin was tanned, a much different hue from that of the majority of the huge colored men of the city. They were blues, greens, purples, strangely enough. There weren’t many tanned-skinned men and women, at least, not that Kahno had ever noticed when watching the city walls from the safety of the forest. So maybe this man was out of his own territory. He knew all about that. It was awkward trying to navigate and unfamiliar place. Who knew what may lay in the shadows? Regardless, this was his territory. He had proved it time and time again. He hunted and slept here. He would not have his grounds intruded on. The pride and arrogance native to his personality swelled. Ears pinned back, Kahno charged from beneath the bush towards the man. He couldn’t be stupid about it though; he kept his distance physically, but cleared the space between them with a hard amber glower and a rippling fury of snarls and snapping teeth that seemed to scream “Get out!”

[Vanator]

Vanator's suspicion was correct, yet he was still surprised when the large wolf charged from the underbrush. A rush of adrenaline shot through the Drykas, and he backpedaled several steps before planting his feet and taking up his ax in both hands in a defensive stance. The beast halted at a cautious distance, its bridled hackles raised and fangs bared, an unmistakeable threat in its deep snarl.

Vanator's eyes darted around quickly for any indication of other wolves. To be surrounded by a pack was a grave situation indeed. There was no sign of more wolves, and Van turned his attention back to the lone creature. "Easy there big boy..." Van uttered in Pavi, his tone soft and smooth, as if words could pacify the angered carnivore. The wolf was a male, a beautiful creature really, with brindled fur already thickening for the coming winter, and yellow eyes that seemed to glow with intelligence.

Steadily, slowly, Vanator took a step back, and then another. The animal was defending something, territory or a kill, otherwise it would have probably attacked him outright. Vanator's intent now was to show that he did not pose a threat to the wolf or whatever it was defending.

[Kahno]

The foreign language came in a blur, something Kahno did not understand, though it sounded soothing. The idea made him nervous, to not understand the two-pawed man, but for the words to be calming. It angered him a bit, and he released another, deeper growl, his head lowering. His golden eyes bore up into the man from underneath a thin line of short, black lashes. He was ill with the man’s presence in his territory. He was beginning to notice a trend, here. Too many times had there been strangers wandering around in his business, and he did not appreciate it one little bit. But then again, none of these intruders had been so bold to attack him as the dog-woman had. As much as he hated to admit it, though they had fought over prey and territory, she had turned out not to be so bad as he had thought. A shiver prickled his fur as he growled softer with the thought. The man retreated backwards a tentative step at the time. He was backing down. He smirked inwardly to himself. A sense of self-pride swelled. He reveled in the glory of frightening those who dared trek through his territory thinking they could do so without consequences. Though he had never outright attacked anyone other than that one dog, he would not hesitate to defend what was his, in this case, his hunting and living grounds. The blade in his hand made him nervous. He was not stupid. He knew that with all the damage he could do to the flesh and bone, he would not stand much of a chance of survival against the weapon. One swing could cleave his head clean off. He had watched the two-pawed men spar and fight and war against one another. It was not a pretty sight. Sometimes, the two-pawed beings only understood words, though. They did not always take the hint to back off. As much as he hated his resemblance to them, sometimes it was necessary to get his point across. And so it was in a burst of light that he took the form of a nude man smattered with dirt and other foreign debris. With his chest full, shoulders set back, and jaw set, he stared through the man before him. His retreat had delivered its intended message; if the man were here to take something from him, or impose some sort of challenge, he would have made it known by now, for sure. What kind of Alpha was afraid to attack? One that was not an Alpha at all, and it was with that behavior that Kahno felt as if he had the upper hand. Then again, there was this language barrier. The language he had spoken was an unrecognizable one to him. It seemed pointless to try to converse or threaten someone who would not understand him. Instead he stood before the man, a safe distance away, to survey his next move. His eyes darted to the blade in his hand, observing what he was to do with it.

[Vanator]

Vanator stood, willing tension to subside. He kept his knees bent and flexible, his shoulders loose, his eyes fixed upon the wolf. He knew looking a predator in the eye could easily be seen as a challenge, but the Drykas saw something unusual in its bright glare. Intelligence. The standoff lingered for only a moment when a cloud of pinpoint lights enveloped the wolf. It was marvelous, but not unfamiliar to Vanator, the process of a Kelvic shift. Once the glow dissipated, the Kelvic in human form stood. He was a match for Vanator in height and weight, and carried the same muscled tone as the Denusk. Like most Kelvics, there was no shame in his nudity, and the man wolf stood proudly before him. Van noted was the Kelvic's apprehension regarding the large axe in his hand.

If the beast was considering an attack, the human assumed, he would have stayed in his much more lethal lupine form. To attack an armed and armored man with nothing more than one possessed from the womb would be foolish. Perhaps communication was what the Kelvic intended. It was apparent that Vanator's presence had challenged the wolf, whether his territory or something he guarded.

Van swicthed his dialogue to the Common language, hoping to engage the Kelvic and avoid a conflict. "I am Vanator, from Sanctuary." He wondered if the Kelvic had heard of the place. Many kelvics had found shelter and treatment at his sister's facility. So close to the place, certainly this one knew of it. "Do you know of the Sanctuary?"

[Kahno]

Again came words formed from the weapon-wielding man’s mouth, this time more recognizable. The Common tongue was one familiar to him, his primary language. Vanator was the man’s name, but the latter piece of his introduction lost Kahno. Sanctuary, it was the second time he had heard of the place. The pale, icy woman that had wandered too deep into the forest earlier in the fall had mentioned it. Though he had assisted her with her wounded paw and guided her to the edge of the forest, he had not ventured so far as to enter this Sanctuary. It was not in his interest to do so. The difference was that the girl had been little, and there had been an odd force that had compelled him to help her, something that calmed him around her. He assumed it was something to do with the supposed Goddess mark that she possessed. Kahno did not buy into it. This man, on the other hand, was heavily armed. He was not foolish; he knew there wouldn’t be much that he could do to inflict damage to him, or even to defend himself. The realization irritated him. The forest was his home, a place he felt comfortable. There was nothing comfortable about strangers pacing around with blades and armor. It was an intrusion that he tried his best to repel with teeth and nail, but there were occasions in which, sometimes, the stranger was not frightened. There was something soft in this man’s words and gaze, one that led Kahno to believe he had no interest in a confrontation. Unfortunately, all things were not always as they seemed. It was this fact that kept Kahno at a defensive distance as he replied, ”I’ve heard of the place from another wanderer, but it’s not of my interest. I suggest you turn back and go back to that place, if it’s where you’ve come from. You’re in my hunting grounds, and there are much larger, angrier things that can be found out here.”

[Vanator]

Vanator watched the expressions of the Kelvic man as he seemed to ponder Vanator and his words for a long moment. The Drykas believed the wolf understood his words, an intelligent gleam the stranger's curious green-flecked gold gaze. He was an wild Kelvic for sure. His brindled hair was unkempt, his tanned skin dirt stained and his nails caked with debris from the forest floor. Though the Kevlic spoke clearly, his words indicated he was not, at least now, part of any human society.

"I do not want to hunt your grounds, I have not come here for that. I am simply exploring. I have never ventured this far into a forest of this kind. I am a grasslander, used to the open plains." The wolf exhibited the attitudes of an alpha male, though it was unclear whether he was part of anything that resembled a pack. Vanator, understanding that failure to behave with submission could be seen as a challenge to an alpha lupine, could not bring himself to such subjection. As a compromise, the human lowered the axe further, decreasing the threat he posed.

The presence of the Kelvic was curious and, so close to the Sanctuary, of particular interest to the man charged with its safekeeping. Vanator attempted to keep the conversation going. "Have you always lived here, or did you come from somewhere else?"