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Date & Time: SOMETIME THIS WEEK
Location: Outlandssssss
Characters: wolf!Peter |

perdre and Simmaeri |

allsongs
Summary: A seeker of song and sound finds a seeker of food and rodents.
Warnings: None! Other than a wolf grossly eating critters.

[it's a quiet night, nothing really to do, no one to talk to. Peter doesn't feel comfortable enough simply asking someone to talk to or be with, not with any of the acquaintances he's made here, and the restlessness in his chest translates into the desire to become the wolf and fulfill its needs. He waits until he's out of reach from prying eyes in the city to change his shape, clothes safely tucked away in a corner no one can find and he can remember, packed up in a bag before paws and long, black legs settle on the floor and take off, running into the wilderness.]

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[it's not quiet for very long, keen wolf ears or otherwise, because Simmaeri is out in this wilderness again. there are people and things out here, too, she's learned, that have as much to share as the clusters of people holed up in the city. it just takes finding them...or them finding her.

that's the spell under the song: who are you? do you hear me? can you find me?

it's magic she freely and deftly wields, woven between notes of a wanderer's lament. dark, alone save for the watchers in the sky...and the trees.

perhaps she'll find that bird again. or some other beast.]

[Hunting doesn't take him too long, not when he's growing more and more familiar with the ups and downs of the terrain. He's easily led by the song, realizing it or not, becoming curious as lifts his head up from an unfortunate critter, stomach already tore open by his bloody teeth. Peter's tail sways as he wanders, critter now in his mouth, dropping it when he sees the shape of a woman in the distance.

He is frozen, watching carefully.]

[she doesn't see him from the direction she faces, calling out into the air. her fingers reach, though her arms remain near her sides, for the feel of something other than air.

is there no one?

she can change her voice – she does, from something withering and wispy to a more strident note that carries much farther than the rest. her own howl.

it's swallowed up in the sky and echoed back, her own voice. it's lonely.]

[The sound is contagious, pushing Peter to tilt his head up and respond with a soft howl, melancholic and almost... timid.

I'm here. Who are you?]

[he doesn't need to howl for very long to catch her attention. she quickly turns, eyes darting toward him first, then the rest of her, much slower, coming to face him as he sounds off.

she smiles faintly in observing him, wondering. she doesn't know the languages of beasts; did he call because he had understood, or simply because she had made a sound to his liking?

she can only wait, watch, and wonder.]

[He tilts his head with a soft, curious whine, padding closer. He ducks his head, either in wariness or respect for her, despite not quite knowing who she is or what she represents. Animals have an instinct for these things, to see nobility where it belongs.

His size is impressive, much larger than your average wolf, though not enough to tower over any human. His fur is dark, shining softly against any source of light around them, eyes yellow and bright. He sniffs at her, paw hesitating to take any more steps forward than necessary.]

[there's a ghost of a smile on her mouth, gazing at him with admiration. she knows creatures like him where she is from; it's rare to be certain which are friend or foe, however. it's good to find no snarl on his lips.]

You are a beautiful one. [she picks a tongue of men from a barren land: men rumored to have the gift to speak to beasts.] Black glass.

[her hand turns to expose her palm, slowly, slowly lifting and extending toward him.]

[The offered hand is encouragement, her words spoken softly enough to make him feel slightly comfortable around her presence already. A careful sniff at her hand gives way to a friendly bump with his head, as if asking - or inviting - to be caressed by her fingers.]

[she accepts the invitation without a shred of hesitation, gently grazing her fingers across his brow and back toward his ears, following the natural flow his fur took. she coos a soft, pleased sound, praising him for simply being.]

Maybe...you are alone, too? [she tilts her head, watching him.] Lonely, too?

[He likes that. Her touch is soft, comfortable, pleasant.]

[Alone and lonely would be good words for it. He isn't sure why else he would seek solitude out here, except to forget the things that haunt him when he's human. His tail sways softly. Why is she here?]

[her eyes crinkle, pleased enough for a tail wag to be her reply. whether that's a yes, no, or just response to her hands isn't something she can tell, but she doesn't mind. there's something very soothing about the wolf's simple presence and acceptance of her own.]

You are the first...Mm, that I have seen such as you in this place. But I know ones like you who do not travel alone.

Maybe you are different.

[her fingers smooth out fur sticking up above his brow, brushing away a bit of dirt.]

I wish you are happy.

[He leans his head against her touch, encouraging her to continue, encouraging her to do more if she wishes. After she's done speaking to him (such kind words, he wonders where she's been all this time) he pads around her, looking up with curious eyes.

It's true - he shouldn't travel alone. If his family were here, they'd make sure of that. But he'd become used to be the only one hunting since he'd sort of left them behind to pursue a relationship he can't say was genuine anymore.

He hopes she's happy as well. He doesn't feel like he can be, not so soon.]

[she is still for the most part, turning her head this way and that to follow him as he moves around, eyes crinkling.]

What are you looking for? [she gives him a questioning hum, smoothing out the front of her gown.]

[He'd like to tell her. He'd like to shift back into a boy and answer her questions, ask some of his own. She is gentle enough to make him feel comfortable, even at ease, but he is in no state to speak up or reveal who he is to someone who is, at the end of the day, a total stranger.

Peter sniffs at the ground, apparently distracted, licking his snout idly before he lifts his head and returns his attention to her. After a beat he simply decides to follow his instincts and dig at the rubble, slowly but surely mouthing and whatever he thinks is moving underground before he reveals what it is. A rodent, squeaking with ire and panic, caught beneath Peter's paw.]

[it's her turn to circle, stepping around and moving a couple paces away as he works. she stills at the sound of the animal, eyes unblinking.]

Dinner?

[That would be it! He'd... offer her some, but.]

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