Who: Cloud Strife, Scáthach, Geralt of Rivia, Prompto Argentum, and Tifa Lockhart. When: Throughout Feb. Where: Aefenglom, Aefenglom forest, beyond the borders. What: Closed threads. New meetings, old meetings, more. Warnings: Fightystuff.
[ A fresh hunt makes for easy contentment. That's all the wolf inside him cares about. It's a strange allure, leaning into that side of him, the one that craves a simplicity life rarely affords. It's possible here in the woods, however brief, with a deer to eat and company to share it with, company that doesn't carry any of the usual expectations.
His muzzle stains red as he tears out thick chunks of meat. He keeps one eye on Cloud, curious how he's doing. The bones left behind say enough, though.
Geralt eats his catch clean, too. His appetite isn't so gluttonous as it was when he'd gone feral, and the fawn is plenty for the night. He's laying down already to rest when the other wolf bounds up to him.
Ugh. What the fuck. His ears lift and he regards Cloud with nothing short of exasperation. So this is what it's like to be a young wolf. His tail thumps on the grass. Tempting to ignore him. He's just concerned Cloud might run off to play elsewhere, which would mean chasing him down to make sure he's not poking too close to the farms again or a dragon's nest. A pain in the ass.
Geralt sighs. He digs through the carcass, snapping off a sizeable bone that he grips between his jaws: an invitation and a compromise, if the other wolf is willing. He doesn't have to run around and Cloud can tug and wrestle for the bone to his heart's content. ]
[Throughout Geralt's sigh, and throughout his task of digging around the remains and eventually snapping off the femur, Cloud's been looking at him and trying to keep still. He's some distance away, of course- just in case Geralt's disdain for what he's doing is fake, and he's biding his time in order to surprise him- but his upper half, head and all, is flat against the ground, ears swivelling curiously, and his upper half is raised- tail.... well, helicoptering in anticipation of the moment the large wolf would lift himself off the ground and come after him.
That doesn't come, of course.
What does come is the extension of said femur, and some interest on Cloud's end. Wolves, like most animals, aren't creatures that eat for the sake of eating. What had been done already on their end was murder. There was no doubt about that, no guilt on either of their ends, and absolutely no thought about doing things differently. But, they took what they needed, and nothing more. So he doesn't bound over immediately. Instead he waits and he watches, ascertaining that the offer isn't for more food- instead, it's an invitation to do something both of them may find mutually agreeable.
So he lifts himself, trotting over, a vague wag still animating his tail. And he sniffs, and his jaws eventually chomp on the other end of the bone.
....But aware of his condition, given a simpler way of thinking, absolutely no memory and lacking the capacity to allow himself second thoughts, he's still mako enhanced.
What would then happen may surprise Geralt. But with an easy, almost effortless looking flick of his head, the younger wolf wrenches Geralt from his comfortable lying position up, and into the air, and to the other side of him. Maybe on his back. Maybe Geralt had enough of his usual instinct to twist himself, and land on his feet.
Whatever happens, he's met with a joyful, playful growl. And another furious wag of the younger wolf's tail.]
[ In retrospect, he should've expected the wolf to not know its own strength. It doesn't cross his mind, though; he's not bracing himself when Cloud jerks on the bone, just holding it clamped in his jaws. The force of it yanks him clear into the air.
There's a deeply undignified yowl he'll deny like hell—but his body turns in the air, landing on the ground behind the smaller wolf.
The fuck. He shakes himself. An instinctive growl comes low from his throat, an indication that he was not happy about being thrown into the air. No matter how much Cloud is spinning his damn fluffy tail.
(This is what he gets for helping, apparently. Being juggled by a wolf half his size.) ]
[The growl causes him to let go of the bone, instantly- to make himself low to the ground and to pull his ears back. His brightly coloured eyes don't leave Geralt as he shakes himself... but his tail, indeed, slows to a stop.
The wolf is clearly concerned. And while it was certainly more outgoing, far more social than Cloud was in his normal state... some traits were shared. The first, and most important? ...Social anxiety, actually. Especially when things seemed like they were going to go badly.
So. Without any indication, any unspoken announcement, the wolf is going, going, going gone. It lifts itself from the ground quickly, and it's bolting- right into the woods, and off.
[ Geralt is not normally bothered by upsetting anyone. Especially someone he hardly knows: they've spoken a few words to each other before this meeting, if that. But unlike Cloud, Geralt's mind is well intact and that means he feels what most people feel when they see a dog's tail has stopped wagging.
He sighs. Before he can say anything, the wolf has taken off -- vanishing like a ghost through the thicket of trees.
Ah, shit. Geralt gets up, running towards the edges of it. He sniffs along the ground. It wouldn't be difficult to find him if he really meant to track, but the sky is beginning to lighten and the wolf has eaten. If Cloud has run off somewhere, it might be for the best. He's not certain he wants to be here when sunrise transforms them both back.
Still. Maybe he'll check on him later. Through Zack, perhaps. He takes off in the other direction, making his way back towards the city where he can change in the garden of Jaskier's cottage. He's learned his lesson: waking up naked in the woods isn't how he wants to end a night. ]
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no subject
His muzzle stains red as he tears out thick chunks of meat. He keeps one eye on Cloud, curious how he's doing. The bones left behind say enough, though.
Geralt eats his catch clean, too. His appetite isn't so gluttonous as it was when he'd gone feral, and the fawn is plenty for the night. He's laying down already to rest when the other wolf bounds up to him.
Ugh. What the fuck. His ears lift and he regards Cloud with nothing short of exasperation. So this is what it's like to be a young wolf. His tail thumps on the grass. Tempting to ignore him. He's just concerned Cloud might run off to play elsewhere, which would mean chasing him down to make sure he's not poking too close to the farms again or a dragon's nest. A pain in the ass.
Geralt sighs. He digs through the carcass, snapping off a sizeable bone that he grips between his jaws: an invitation and a compromise, if the other wolf is willing. He doesn't have to run around and Cloud can tug and wrestle for the bone to his heart's content. ]
no subject
That doesn't come, of course.
What does come is the extension of said femur, and some interest on Cloud's end. Wolves, like most animals, aren't creatures that eat for the sake of eating. What had been done already on their end was murder. There was no doubt about that, no guilt on either of their ends, and absolutely no thought about doing things differently. But, they took what they needed, and nothing more. So he doesn't bound over immediately. Instead he waits and he watches, ascertaining that the offer isn't for more food- instead, it's an invitation to do something both of them may find mutually agreeable.
So he lifts himself, trotting over, a vague wag still animating his tail. And he sniffs, and his jaws eventually chomp on the other end of the bone.
....But aware of his condition, given a simpler way of thinking, absolutely no memory and lacking the capacity to allow himself second thoughts, he's still mako enhanced.
What would then happen may surprise Geralt. But with an easy, almost effortless looking flick of his head, the younger wolf wrenches Geralt from his comfortable lying position up, and into the air, and to the other side of him. Maybe on his back. Maybe Geralt had enough of his usual instinct to twist himself, and land on his feet.
Whatever happens, he's met with a joyful, playful growl. And another furious wag of the younger wolf's tail.]
no subject
There's a deeply undignified yowl he'll deny like hell—but his body turns in the air, landing on the ground behind the smaller wolf.
The fuck. He shakes himself. An instinctive growl comes low from his throat, an indication that he was not happy about being thrown into the air. No matter how much Cloud is spinning his damn fluffy tail.
(This is what he gets for helping, apparently. Being juggled by a wolf half his size.) ]
no subject
The wolf is clearly concerned. And while it was certainly more outgoing, far more social than Cloud was in his normal state... some traits were shared. The first, and most important? ...Social anxiety, actually. Especially when things seemed like they were going to go badly.
So.
Without any indication, any unspoken announcement, the wolf is going, going, going gone. It lifts itself from the ground quickly, and it's bolting- right into the woods, and off.
Goodbye, friend(?)]
no subject
He sighs. Before he can say anything, the wolf has taken off -- vanishing like a ghost through the thicket of trees.
Ah, shit. Geralt gets up, running towards the edges of it. He sniffs along the ground. It wouldn't be difficult to find him if he really meant to track, but the sky is beginning to lighten and the wolf has eaten. If Cloud has run off somewhere, it might be for the best. He's not certain he wants to be here when sunrise transforms them both back.
Still. Maybe he'll check on him later. Through Zack, perhaps. He takes off in the other direction, making his way back towards the city where he can change in the garden of Jaskier's cottage. He's learned his lesson: waking up naked in the woods isn't how he wants to end a night. ]