lay me on the table

from mud and blood, a demon rises.

the dirt parts between cold grey eyes, leering at this new land. the dark body shook his pelt, the mud cool on fresh scars and injuries, and dipped into the nearest river. this wasn't the wilds of acadia.

hiroto's body ached still. the river was here to soothe him, but it did little. it was too cold, and to find a hotspring now would be searching for a needle in the haystack.

---

for @Fumiko

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The wail of sirens faded into nothing, then the sound of wind caressing blades of grass. The soft chatter of small animals whispered from the grasses, and a dark ear twitched from a tall bundle of grass. A small brown body begins to slowly take breaths, limbs twitching as life is breathed into it. Finally, an eye slowly blinked open to reveal an olive pool. A soft sneeze shakes the woman as she unfurls her limbs from their initial position. Fumiko lifted her head from the grass to look around the wide expanse of the steppe. Where the hell was she?

“おじいちゃん？ひより？みんなはどこにいるの？” — Grandpa? Hiyori? Where is everyone? Fumiko whimpered as she pulled herself up, small droplets of blood falling from the cut above her eye onto the grass below. Her olive eyes trailed down then widened as brown fur came into focus. Then, paws. “え、私に何が起こったの？” — Wh-, what happened to me? Fumiko couldn't remember what happened to her to have this happen, but she could remember the last time she saw Hiyori. The woman had her signature scowl on her face as she helped fasten Fumiko's obi. She was unable to remember what the occasion was, but it was important. But, what was it?

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green stretched for miles and miles. nothing else was here to accompany hiroto, not even the men who chased him or the woman — whatever her name was — he'd been rolling in the fields with. or so he thought. a woman — a different one — muttering to herself takes his attention. she rises from the empty grasslands in the corner of his eyes. "here,'' spoke the strange wilds, "take this."

hiroto would take the offer up, but not yet. instead the man drank in the woman across from him, the feminine, slender curves of her silhouette. what would be a plain coat laid beautifully over her, glimmering in the sun that stopped being unbearable now with something else to focus on. she was a sight to behold, and she was, at a glance, too stupid to realize it.

he approached like she were quarry; pushing aside each stalk of grass through calculated steps. but he couldn't get too close. she would run. even with the cut on her head, she could make it far. and if she didn't, wrangling her would be too much work for the brute. instead he chuffs, announcing his presence from — in hiroto's opinion — a comfortable distance.

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---

This was not her home. Gone were the many high-rises and neon lights. The fragrant sakura trees that dappled the city were nowhere to be found. Everything that made her home, home, was gone. And the worst part of it all, was she had been turned into a wolf. The very creature that had been hunted to extinction in the past. So why her? Fumiko never hurt anyone or dabbled in her grandfather's business dealings. She behaved, went to school, avoided the clubs. So why her?

At the soft rustle of grass behind her, Fumiko quickly turned to face the source. Her heart slammed against her chest like a bird trapped in a cage. “あなたは誰ですか？” — Who are you? Fumiko took a step away from the massive canid, olive eyes widening. Run! Run! Her mind knew this was danger, a beast that would kill her as soon as it got close enough. Though the brute stayed some distance away, her skin prickled with fear. Even as a human, she avoided danger. Grandpa had Hotei as her bodyguard to keep her safe, but here, there was no Hotei to protect her. There were no men in black suits to scare off dangerous people. This time, she was on her own and she'd have to use her wits to keep her alive.

The woman took small steps back, careful not to arouse suspicion. If she wanted to get out of here alive, she had to play, no win, this game.

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while she scrambles to her feet like a fawn, the dark pillar that was hiroto stood tall and casted a long shadow. while the wind swept the grass, the only thing that moved of him was his thick, damp fur, drying from his bath. in this new land with new faces, there was no longer a need for a false name, to run. not yet, anyways. trouble will find him soon. for now, hiroto could afford patience.

“sena hiroto. you ain't got nothing to worry about.” his voice fries like electricity, deep and resonant. his broad shoulders roll, relaxing as the woman didn't burst into a wild sprint. but he wouldn't steal anymore of the distance between them. he could undress her with his eyes alone. they both played games with each other. and hiroto wouldn't stop until he won.
“you new too?” new and odd, truthfully. who looks at their paws first thing when arriving at a new place? unless she had a dream they were bitten off for whatever reason.

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---

the wind whispered over the grass between them, a silent barrier that fumiko appreciated it. the plush earth beneath her feet grounded her and kept her from panicking. but to say her reaction was embarrassing was an understatement. she was a saito—strong and fierce—yet here she was shaking in front of a man.

“saito fumiko.” her eyes nervously scanned the man, noticing ragged scar on his face. miko wondered what could have done that to him, but the thought vanished when he spoke again. “so you say.” his words said one thing, his presence said another. he reminded her of the men grandpa would bring for secret meetings in the yard while she was asked to stay in her room.

her skin prickled under the weight, the heat of his gaze. it made her tremble and remain rooted in place. fumiko was not typically this afraid of men, but something about this one had her on edge. her heart raced within her chest, fluttering like a trapped bird. “uh, yes. i don't know how i got here.” she shouldn't be so truthful with a stranger, especially one this intimidating, but what's the worst that could happen?

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he settles down onto his rump. she's terrible at hiding her anxiety, and hiroto would rather she stay here than escape between his fingers. he could catch her, it was just too annoying to do. and she hadn't proved herself worth a chase. but she was worth this simpler game. most women don't.

“you must be hungry.” said with none of the warmth expected of those words. hiroto rises, tearing his eyes off her for a moment to scan their surroundings. the steppe was vast, and already in the distance his gray eyes caught the silhouettes of prey. difficult, annoying prey — but still, prey. “you won't get anywhere on an empty stomach.” and he cocks his head, expecting her to follow.
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