PM to join The Price Of A Friend (Cedar)

[Colt]

84th of fall, 515 a.v.

Well, it wasn’t as if it had been unexpected.

Lightning was a skittish filly. Yes, she was somewhat tolerant of Thunder’s games of chase and catch, and her participation was (usually) possessed of mutual enjoyment. She was adjusting to the Dawnwhisper family as well as could be expected, having lost her mother and with Kairi serving as a surrogate. She had warmed up to the herd, both horses and zibri and even seemed to have become fast friends with the goat. She was even letting Shahar come near her with relative frequency, and was quite confident in taking whatever treat he offered her. He could touch her on the rare whims of fate if she was in a particularly good mood, and she didn’t mind his presence at all now.

The cats, however, still left her absolutely terrified.

Kabek had caught a rabbit. This wasn’t entirely unusual for him; while Tuka knew to keep a healthy distance from the horses most of the time, as accustomed to she was to hunting with Shahar, Kabek had no attached partner and was usually left to his own devices. He usually hunted to feed himself, but today he hadn’t been that hungry when he’d caught the rabbit. But, aware of how the Dawnwhisper hunters worked, he had tracked Shahar’s scent with the intention of depositing the animal as a gift to the leader of the family––straight to where Shahar was working with Lightning.

Suffice to say, it took mere heartbeats for Lightning to live up to her name and vanish into the grass.

Shahar had Tuka close to his side, and despite her confusion on the matter he did not allow her to stray from his side; he didn’t want her frightening poor Lightning any more once they found her, but he never left Tuka behind. She was his left hand, and was always with him from dawn until dusk.

Snow, however, was allowed to roam ahead, where she cut a strafing pattern with her nose to the ground. To say she was getting large would be an understatement; where seasons ago Shahar had vaguely been able to claim that she was ‘just a wolf,’ despite her color, it was now impossible to even try; by Drykas measurement, Snow was approaching eleven hands in height, standing well over even the largest wolf. Adolescence was setting in, and she still wasn’t done growing.

With adolescence came the slow but sure reduction in mindless desire to explore; Snow was quickly learning the ways of the hunt, from both Shahar and her inborn instincts. She was learning to track and assess, to differentiate and draw conclusions from sight, sound and smell alike; she was learning to think like prey and to lay traps with hiding places. Every day she made Shahar proud, and today was no different.

She had found Lightning’s scent immediately, and was both leading them along it and keeping tabs on how close they were to her; Lightning didn’t like Snow either, and Snow knew it. The she-wolf would keep her distance once they found the filly.

For the second leg of their quest, Shahar had brought along an unusual addition. While he rode Akaidras, as he always did, the stallion was not the only horse to join them; the Drykas had asked Dainellas to accompany them, aware of the fact that Lightning would be much more inclined to stick together with a mare than a stallion. Although Kairi was the one that served as her adoptive mother, Shahar was definitely not bringing her along; the only one Kairi listened to was Seirei, and only rarely. And Seirei couldn’t come along with children to take care of and another one growing in her belly; soon enough Shahar would have had to bring the entire Dawnwhisper camp along to find the filly.

Dainellas alone would be easiest.

The mare herself was an agreeable sort, not one to snap or be unnecessarily contrary; she followed the group pleasantly, untacked and unburdened; she had likely surmised the situation already, if she hadn’t witnessed the event itself. She would almost certainly play her part without issue.

They were a few minutes’ walk into the Sea of Grass when Snow paused, attentive and uneasy.

What event inquiry you find?

Close, Lightning over that ridge, but also worry other thing.

What else?

Dog-smell, not Drykas, wild-smell close in dog territory.

Shahar frowned, equally ill at ease. Wild dogs did not bode well at all, especially not for a seasons-old filly wandering their territory. They needed to find her, and they needed to find her quickly.

[Cedar]

His ears perked, the round tufts of fur pointed towards something over the horizon. Cedar was intimately familiar with hunting cat shape, it hadn't failed to come to his magic's call since Angela had died. And ever since the storm that ruined the web, ever since his run to safety away from his clan, he'd been able to depend on it as much as his human self. Cat self was better for hunting -- or at least trying to.

He stayed quiet, watching carefully as he scanned for whatever had caught his attention earlier; Cedar's legs tensed as he realized he wouldn't catch whatever had made the noise, at least probably not. Sure, he could run as fast as the hunting cats as long as he held their shape, he could fight with their claws and their strength, but that was mostly it. Cedar was talented enough to hear like one, or walk through the dark nights. He hadn't learn to hunt like one, so he couldn't hunt like one -- but he was better with claws then with a bow or a dagger, so when Cedar tried to hunt, he always hunted as cat.

Deciding whatever it was had left, and wasn't likely to be a threat, not that there was much that ran through the grass as fast as his cat self could, Cedar pushed his face to the ground, breathing deeply.

He sneezed out dirt and rock, his nose extremely uncomfortable as he snorted out whatever he breathed in. Cedar knew he'd seen other cats do this -- or had it been dogs? Cedar breathed out again, for good measure, rubbing his nose against his fur. Pushing his nose as close to dirt as he'd dare. Again, he sniffed, lighter this time, trying pull apart any smell he could.

He smelled dirt. Dry and earthy and rough against his nose. Cedar harrumphed, again pushing hard air out of his feline nostrils. Angela had said it would take a lot of work to take on the form of his models, but even more to really use all of it. Cedar understood that -- each model was like breaking in a pair of boots. It was always stiff moving at the beginning, but the longer he wore his new forms, the better he got at using them, and the better he became at actually being whatever his magic changed him into it.

Cedar's nose was stuck to ground when he heard the growl. He froze - whatever it was territorial, and angry. He glanced over; two big wild dogs, speckled fur a kaleidoscope of tans, deep browns and yellows, hiding them as they stalked the grass. Cedar caught the thick padding at their feet -- their paws allowed them to sneak quickly and silently; same as his cat self. He noticed they were thick and stocky, meant for power, not speed, not like his current form.

So he did what he could -- he bolted. He jumped, bounding through the grasses, hardly noticing he was running right towards another Drykas.

[Colt]

Snow wasn’t the only one who was uneasy; Akaidras and Dainellas were both coming to sense the presence of something else, something that was not part of their group and something that they did not at all like. Tuka snapped her head back and forth to peer at things in the grass, ears pinned back unhappily.

They were being watched.

Find Lightning.

Not far, just over that ridge.

Shahar urged Akaidras into a canter––something the stallion was all too happy to do––and bid Snow to come back my side, stay away from her, need to make her safe.

Understand, not like this, will keep guard.

Good, thank you.

Lightning was indeed where Snow had said, lingering in a shallow depression in the land. She was in a clearing, looking back and forth in terror––because surrounding her were exactly what Shahar had been afraid of.

Wild dogs, patterned wildly and mottled with scars; they were circling the filly, who had the good sense to kick violently at them whenever they drew too near. Although she had yet to actually hit any of them, her mad thrashing was enough to make them be cautious in their approach to avoid her.

Enough to make them slow.

Shahar didn’t even have to ask his strider to join the fray; Akaidras burst into a gallop, bellowing out his presence––Lightning was one of his herd, and he would not stand for any of this.

The circle of dogs broke in a chorus of surprised barking as the stallion joined the filly, his rider doing his best to keep in the yvas and to signal to their ward. To Lightning, the sight of the stallion and rider had her whinnying in a desperate bid for their attention, and within moments she was tucking herself at their side, stretching her neck as high as she could to lay her head by Shahar’s thigh; Shahar’s scent she knew to be one of home and comfort and treats, and Akaidras’ scent she knew to be one of power.

Shahar placed a hand on the filly’s nose and slid out of the yvas, coming to land with a solid thud; the dogs were regrouping, reforming the circle and eyeing the new arrivals warily. There were eight of them, at least––enough to take on a strider if they managed to get it running away. And there were rustles in the bushes that betrayed the presence of more; this pack was a large one, and it would not abandon a possible meal against one stallion’s threats.

But the stallion wasn’t the only threat to their number.

With an explosive shout of defend! Snow sprinted to catch up to her family, not even bothering to break into the circle before sinking her teeth into a dog’s hindquarters; the dog yelped, breaking away with an offended string of barking and a very noticeable limp, disappearing into the grass while the rest of the dogs paused uneasily.

Snow snarled, red blood stark against the white fur of her muzzle, before halting and pivoting an ear to something else in the brush. Something coming.

Snow leaped out of the way as yet another creature joined the fray: Tuka, pursued by two more of the dogs.

No, wait, not Tuka; Tuka was pacing outside the circle, desiring to help but not brave enough to slide through the dog’s ranks. This was a hunting cat, an unfamiliar one, who the dogs were now wise enough to scatter for and allow into the circle. The two dogs on the cat’s heels followed him in, prepared to be the first to begin the sizeable battle that was lining up.

A javelin was suddenly in his hand, and then it was coiling, and then it was flying.

The smaller of the two dogs yelped as the spear slid against one shoulder, along its stomach and to its flank; the shot had been pure reflex, and it had been too sudden and uncalculated; he had been aiming for the chest.

But the blossoming line of red along the dog’s side made it tumble to the ground as two of its legs suddenly hurt too much to run, and that was enough for Snow to finish the job; uninjured and unwilling to fail, the she-wolf closed in on the fallen dog and closed her jaws around a hind leg, using her vastly superior weight and size to forcibly slam the animal onto its back. Wasting no time, she ripped into the soft, exposed stomach; it was closer and less risky than the neck, and it had important things of its own. Into the dog’s flesh she went, ripping and tearing, giving the rest of the pack a bloody spectacle as the larger of the two dogs was suddenly left on its own.

Alone with a suddenly very present, very angry Dainellas.

Shahar hadn’t seen the mare join them, although it appeared to have been the same instant as the cat––the cat she was quite clearly focused on. Not attacking, not driving away, but defending; the buskskin mare stood on her hind legs to strike threateningly at the remaining dog inside the circle, driving him away from this cat she had decided was hers. Shahar had never seen her raise a single hoof in violence before, but he could be amazed later; right now, he was truly glad for her new, angrier disposition.

The dogs were getting ready to move in.

[Cedar]

Cedar, on two legs, was fast. On four legs, he was faster than even the hunting dogs of the wild grasslands. The changeling was hyper aware, having spent enough time in this form he knew that the speed was sometimes too much for his human brain -- he couldn't fall, not now. He couldn't think of falling; Cedar needed to be aware of his surroundings, needed to watch his feet, and keep himself up right.

Cedar tried to not focus on the barks coming from behind him as he charged forward, he ignored the faraway howls that seemed to be growing closer. They were hunting him, but the changeling was fast in his cat form. He caught a mess of white ahead, a platinum blonde mop of a monster -- blood, he noticed, stained parts of whatever it was vibrant scarlet. Cedar couldn't smell it, he had yet learned to master the nose of this shape, but the Drykas knew the dogs chasing him would.

Maybe they were already hunting the other's scent.

The changeling knew to use his tail to balance out his momentum as he turned, but if he'd turned to sharply the chase would be over, and he'd be torn to shreds. When he'd been younger, when his pavilion had still been alive and whole, his father would take him and siblings out in groups to watch the wild animals hunt. Cedar knew what would happen to him had the dogs catch him. His best shape would be to lead them on another's scent. This white thing was his best chance as a decoy.

His claws stretched, hooking the ground, catching his traction as he bounded towards it. Close. Jump. His cat form pushed down towards the ground mid sprint, his hind legs squeezed, and he was up.

The was a sharp yelp that caught the Drykas' attention from behind; he chanced a glance, only to stumble his landing as he saw one of the dogs stumble along the ground as well, a line of liquid crimson marring the sand colored fur. The white thing -- a massive wolf, blood staining it's snout, finished the job easily -- quickly. Cedar could hardly process the kill before the wolf had bitten through the soft stomach lining.

There was a sharp bark behind, reminding Cedar he hadn't bothered to get up after his stumble -- and despite the dead dog before him, they had been a group and had surrounded him (and another human, he'd realized) too easily. He moved quickly, hissing back as he'd seen other do at the animal approaching him. It was small, spots fading still into prominence against the sandy fur, an obvious juvenile willing to take a chance at proving itself. The morphling growled, a burning rumble growing as he attempted intimidating the dog; they were matched for size, but in this form he was build for speed and stealth, not to fight. The dog was.

Cedar hadn't the chance to prepare himself; a whining caught his attention moments before sickening crunch of hoof against bone, the risky dog stamped down by the weight of a horse -- that had suddenly come from no where. The horse -- a Stryder by the look, a nice tan coat detailed with a black mane. She -- somehow, Cedar knew -- jumped before him, pawing at two incoming dogs. They hesitated, knowing they had a much better chance at Cedar than they did the horse; she wasn't large, not by Stryder standards, but she was built solidly, enough to make them wary.

A snarl caught his attention, and Cedar turned around, pulling his tail away ticks before a loud snap. One of the older dogs had thought better than to approach the horse where she could see, and tried his luck with Cedar. If he could morph fast enough, slip into human form -- it might scare the creature off; but his shifts weren't quick enough to risk that, and the approaching pack might view him as weak -- he would stumble throughout the change, and they might think him sick or disable, or otherwise, an easy target.

Instead he swiped. Cedar growled, a warning hopefully translated, as a his paw muscles relaxed, his iron colored claws scratching the air before the old dog. Hunting cats weren't things to attack head first, but Cedar was still human before cat, and was willing to use anything he could to detour the creature.

His attempt at intimidation wasn't received as the dog lunged at him -- or the horse, he couldn't tell. Still, Cedar wouldn't risk a Stryder before himself, they were sacred to the horse people. So, he launched himself at the creature's face, claws catching the skin awkwardly as the force of their collision pushed him away from the horse and the wild dog closer -- the Stryder had realized the dog behind her and raised her legs, quickly punching it's face, death coming quickly to that one.

Cedar watched as the two dogs in front began to walk away wearily, obviously deciding the horse -- or the cat -- wasn't worth it.

[Colt]

More dogs were moving in, towards Snow, who was the farthest away from the tight-knit unit in their center; one, then two of them flashed to her side and then away from it before she could retaliate, both taking a sizeable mouthful of skin away with them. Her size had aided her with the dog she had slain, but the speed of its fellows was threatening to be her downfall.

Snow! Shahar cried out. Away, to me, danger come back!

She wanted to obey. She wanted to run, she wanted to get back to Shahar’s side––but the scene in between was too violent for her to risk piercing.

Horse and cat moved together, twisting, threatening, striking. Dainellas was fury in the form of a horse, lashing out at any who dared move towards the strange cat. The dog that had chased the creature into the circle met its end beneath Dainellas’ hooves with the sickening crunch of bone, giving pause to two others who were unsure if they wanted to risk a frontal attack.

A third dog decided to risk the opposite, coming around to Dainellas’ flank and attempting to avoid her from behind to snap at her charge. Neither cat nor horse would have anything to do with such trickery; the cat hissed and clawed at the dog, spinning the both of them closer to the mare, who picked up a foot in short order and kicked the new threat as viciously as she had the first. Death claimed the canine quickly.

The remaining dogs were losing their snarls, circling around the troupe with more worry than aggression. The two dogs that had wished to come head-on were no longer moving towards their prey; after a few moments of deliberation, the animals turned and began to make their way out of the fight, having decided that the loss of life was not equal to the food they would gain.

The few others that remained slowly followed.

With the break in danger, several things ran through Shahar’s mind. First was worry for Snow, who responded with dazed, understand, I’m here. She didn’t know whether she was alright, but she wasn’t dying; she lingered where she was, over her dog’s corpse, staring listlessly at Dainellas and unwilling to get close; the mare’s sudden anger had disturbed Snow, and Snow didn’t want to risk sharing the fate of the dogs.

Second was the state of Lightning; the filly had been understandably terrified by the experience, and was cowering under Akaidras’ belly; Shahar backed closer to his strider and placed a hand on Lightning’s shoulder, careful to make sure she saw it coming. She tucked herself close to him, but did not grow any easier; every shadow and rustle could be another dog come to eat her, and she swiveled her head unceasingly to keep watch of anything that might lurch from the grass.

[Cedar]

Cedar watched as the dogs withdrew; the creatures, even the injured among their group, were surprisingly nimble in their retreat. They bounded off, tails between their legs in quiet surrender, their brindle coats melting into the tall grasses around them. They disappeared as quickly as they'd surprised him, the corpses they left behind the only evidence they'd even attack them at all.

Embraced by relative safety, the changeling watched the other Drykas with a calm interest. He walked carefully towards a trembling foal, a slight thing huddled against a much more impressive creature -- another strider, like the one who had saved him. He wondered at that, the beautiful sand colored thing to his left, he instinctively knew her as she, and was incredibly at ease with her around -- he recalled stories of the bond, but he wouldn't allow himself to get worked up over no proof. He'd never knew such a blessing and wasn't qualified to call something he didn't know what was.

It was perhaps easiest change shape, introduce himself, and then ask questions. He hoped they would be the kinds of people who feared magic -- you could never tell with the Drykas.

It was always the easiest to change back -- there wasn't so much concentration, not so much casting as releasing his spell. There was nothing to maintain in a reverse-shift, the changeling only had to let his body remembered what it had lost; an easy thing, it wasn't like Cedar forgot his human self. His fur thinned into wisps of hair, shrinking back into his skin. A sharp crack sounded as his spine splintered into human shape, his paws popping violently as they expanding forming hands and feet. He'd never seen himself shift so drastically, but he'd always guessed from the sounds it wasn't pretty -- not like the gold shimmering lights of a Kelvic.

"Thank you, for helping me. My name is Cedar," he smiled, signing a quick thanks and invitation for introduction.

[Colt]

There was no time to allow shock to set in; Shahar blinked to dispel the haze that had fallen over him. He couldn’t afford to linger; dogs were not the only dangers in the Sea of Grass, and the smell of blood would no doubt draw other beasts in short order. He needed to move, to get Lightning back to the camp before anything else came to investigate what had happened.

Shahar turned and swept his gaze over their surroundings. Dead dogs, bloody Snow, on-edge Akaidras, terrified Lightning, confrontational Dainellas, Tuka and the unfamiliar hunting cat.

Tuka abandoned her circling and dashed back into the cluster of friends. She knew all of them, except for the other hunting cat; though she wasn’t directly threatened, she paused to sniff at him before making her way to Shahar’s side.

Snow.

Snow perked, chest settling as she regained her breath.

Guard, alert.

Understand. Snow forced herself away from her dead dog and turned her gaze outward, to the grasses and what might still lay within them. Her hearing was better than his; if something came their way, she would be first to sense it.

Shahar turned his full attention to Lightning, wrapping an arm around her chest to guide her away from Akaidras. She didn’t like it, and tossed her head to let him know––before letting loose a shrill whinny and nearly bursting from his grip. Snow whipped around to see what had so startled her, as did Shahar, and it led them to the strange hunting cat.

No, not hunting cat. Before their eyes, the cat ceased to be a cat and became something else, something unnatural and fluid––fur shriveled, paws lengthened, limbs thickened, spine straightened; it changed, warping and shifting until there was no longer a cat.

Instead, there was a man.

Dainellas seemed to be the only one unsurprised.

Shahar blinked. Then he blinked again, just to process what he had seen.

“Thank you, for helping me. My name is Cedar,” the man said in fluent Pavi, signing to add emphasis. He spoke and signed like a native, like one of the horselords, but… he was a hunting cat. And unmarked.

“You’re not a Kelvic,” was all Shahar could manage from under his confused amazement. “Are you Drykas?” He knew that there were animals that could turn into people, but Kelvics did it… prettier. And less messy. And less loudly. What this… Cedar had done was unlike anything Shahar had ever seen before. “Are you a man, or are you a cat?” And how? There was no outward fear or distrust––Shahar had seen the inexplicable before, and the man was naked and likely non-threatening––but he was still overcome with lack of comprehension; he had no idea what he had just witnessed.

[Cedar]

Cedar smiled, a quick hand motion in the affirmation, "Yes, I'm Drykas," amusement colored his voice -- No Kelvic he signed as an afterthought; the other man hadn't seemed so sure, it would be better for the conversation that Cedar tie up any loose ends, probable or not. Magic was a sensitive enough topic with all of the information on the table.

Cedar considered the stranger's tone before continuing; the quicker he decided the other Drykas felt comfortable, or at the very least, that the changeling wasn't a threat to him or his, it would be a much better outcome for the whole group. Not that Cedar posed much of a threat, not as a human at any rate. Still, happy conversations led to happy endings, as his father used to say.

"I shift with magic," he started off, his hands expressive with double meanings like similar to Kelvic magic and less pretty. The second part, explaining what he was, caused some hesitation. Angela had warned him this magic cause identity confusion, not so much Cedar forgetting who he was, but more what he was -- neither beast nor man, he was fluid. His magic allowed him that, and the more he practiced, the more he cast, the less static his form would be, resulting him not entirely sure what he was anymore more -- besides a changeling.

He decided that was perhaps too much for an introduction, instead having one hand walk along the air for two fingers. The sign for man or human. No reason to confuse anyone so early in the day.

The horse to his left caught his attention, she -- somehow, he knew to call her she -- nuzzle his neck. Name he signed, raising his hands like his voice would have had he'd been speaking. Cedar preferred using grassland sign with the animals, it wasn't like they would be able to speak an answer anyway. It felt more natural. "She is a good horse. She saved my life, dunno if you saw.."

He pushed a gentle hand over her nose, stroking it down a bit. She pressed into him gently, a feeling of comfort rising in him.

"And your name, stranger? What of your clan?"

[Colt]

The stranger shook his head, capable of seeing that the entire encounter was causing Shahar no shortage of confusion. He affirmed that he was not Kelvic, and that he was indeed Drykas. Born, raised, Shahar did not know; had this man always possessed the ability to change, as the Dhani did, or was it something that could be learned?

Could any man change their body, like he had?

“I shift with magic,” Cedar said, admitting that while it was similar to Kelvic magic, it was not the same. He started another sign, then hesitated, clearly unsure of how Shahar would react. It only piqued the hunter’s curiosity all the more.

Eventually, Cedar signed that he was, indeed, human, just before Dainellas nosed her way into the conversation and bumped her nuzzle against the shifter’s neck. Name? Cedar asked.

“Dainellas,” Shahar replied, although his eyes were alight with focused curiosity.

If Cedar was indeed a man, was his a power that all men could endeavor to possess? Was the physical appearance so temporary, that it could be changed at will? How did it work? Where did it come from?

“Your magic,” Shahar asked, intense desire to learn. “You were born with, or you learned? How does one learn to change shape? Is it like the Web, you use by taking from inside?”

[Cedar]

"Dainellas," Cedar echoed, a smile breaking through his lips as the brown horse nuzzled his cheek. She wasn't a handsome horse, but the changeling still found her impressive; she was a sturdy creature, her coloring an even chocolate brown. Her deep rich coloring reminded Cedar of the chocolates Angela would find, no matter where his old pavillion settled, his favorite thing to eat.

"What is your name?," the changeling asked, signing the same question in time with the words, his hands moving more quickly, more aggressively than before. While Cedar wouldn't mind answering the stranger's questions, it didn't sit well with the Drykas that he'd been ignored. He did enjoy the man's forwardness, his willingness to admit his curiosity. Perhaps he was too interested in what Cedar had done that he missed his questions entirely -- which wouldn't be unforgivable.

Cedar watched the stranger for a few ticks, allowing for a passing silence as he considered his answer. "Anyone can learn," the changeling answered, signing a quick affirmation with his words. He paused again before signing difficult repeatedly, his hands quivering in feigned fright as he finished with the sign for dangerous. The Drykas wouldn't let anyone think his magic was something so easily learned as throwing a spear or knotting rope; not that he could do either reliably well, if at all. "Magic is learned like anything else," he shrugged, signing practice in repetition. His eyes were dark with wary and suspicion -- there was little chance he would risk teaching anything to this wild stranger. Savior or not, this magic was his only inheritance from Angela, and thus, was more sacred to the changeling than anything else he owned.

"Similar to web magic," Cedar stumbled through the words, his uncertainty obvious. While the Drykas obviously was aware of Webbing, he hadn't been introduced to the magic. His magic pulled as his insides, as the stranger had described, but he wasn't sure.

"Why do you want to learn," Cedar asked, careful to sign disinterest in teaching with his question; he didn't want to imply any commitment. Still, the stranger's obvious curiosity was a new question to the wild changeling. "You defend yours well with your spear. You don't need claws or fangs," He countered, looking at the weapon. Why want for those when you fought with iron?