damsel in distress

Etienne was starving. There were no servants in the wilderness to hunt his dinner for him and he had likely used up all his luck on the last free meal that the fox had caught for him. His belly growled, reminding him once more that he needed to adapt to the way of the predator. With a sullen sigh he lowered his pink nose to the ground and followed a scent as if he were a dog. Oh the humiliation. The indignity of having to sniff around like a common stray. Hunger was humbling. It was the only time his ego bowed to reason. Small paws had created a trail in the snow, leaving behind a delicious scent that made the prince drool. How unbecoming of him.

Sniff, sniff, sniff. He trotted after the mystery critter, tail swaying happily at the thought of having a full belly soon. The scent led the pink, twitching nose of his to a burrow which he impatiently shoved his muzzle inside. Sharp teeth sank into the delicate flesh of his snout and the prince yelped, whining as he retreated from his vicious attacker. A pair of beady black eyes and snuffling nose poked out of the burrow, followed by a pair of long ears.

Etienne laughed, realising he had been startled by a rabbit. His relief was short lived when those beady black eyes locked upon and the rabbit charged. Another yelp of surprise followed and Etienne began to run. The rabbit chased after the prince with the tenacity of a wolf on the hunt. The prey had become the predator.

“Mon dieu! I yield! I yield!” he howled, but the rabbit did not relent. It chased the prince up a tree which the small wolf managed to jump high enough to reach one of its lower branches, clinging on for dear life while the rabbit lurked below, chattering its teeth.
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He'd been gone for days, eating up the distance that carried him as far away from his egotistical brother as he could get. Like always, he'd been fed up with Malric's bullshit. But his most recent display of forced dominance was the final stray. It pained him, though, that he'd left @Nesta behind. She'd fled some time prior, to which led to his brother's tantrum. But he didn't care about Mal lost. Only if the petite woman was alright. She was a survivor, though. He had high hopes.

The hills were tricky and endless, leaving him feeling like he was lost. Had he been circling this place? Fuck, it seemed like he'd never get out. No one, nothing, had been spotted for miles. Except for a rabbit... chasing a wolf? Was he seeing that right?

Coming up on the scene, he flicked up a questioning brow. A wolf, clinging to a tree to escape a measly rabbit. Had to be the best damned thing he'd ever seen. And he showed it too, roaring with laughter at the sight. “Damn... really going to let a little rabbit take over? And I thought they were supposed to be the ones on the menu.”

The rabbit had turned, then prepared to run, but he was faster. Lunging with snarling teeth, he snapped his jaw around the fluffy thing's neck, biting down until he heard the sickening crunch of bones. Once satisfied it was dead, he let the little thing splat to the ground, while spitting out a few hairs of fur in the process. “You're safe, now,” He huffed, tipping his chin up toward the tree.

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The prince clung to the tree with all his might, praying to whoever was listening for the branch to support his weight and for the rabbit to leave him be. It must be a demon rabbit, there was no way it was an ordinary bunny. Etienne had never seen such evil in a rabbit's eyes before. There was an all consuming hatred in its beady stare that thirsted for his royal blood. He gulped and then looked down. The demon rabbit was still there, looming, waiting for him to fall so it could feast on his flesh. How long would he be stuck up there? Hours? Days? Weeks? He shivered just thinking about it.

Laughter echoed through the hills, and at first he thought it was the demon rabbit mocking him. No. It was a wolf that dared to laugh at him. Humiliation burned through his skin as he clung to the tree, cowering from the demon rabbit. “How rude!” he scolded the laughing wolf, glaring at him quite fiercely considering that he was afraid of a rabbit.

At least the wolf proved useful. He quickly took care of the rabbit and rescued the distressed prince. “My hero….” Etienne scoffed, obviously still offended that the wolf had dared to laugh at him, The Great Etienne Belmont LaRose Anthelme!

He did not come down from the tree, stubbornly staying where he was. Partly because he was too afraid to jump down and partly because he was sulking. Of all the people to witness his humiliation it had to be one who delighted in it. Ugh. Etienne didn't know how he would ever recover his dignity again.

“You there!” he called out finally, resigning himself to addressing the rude wolf. “I require your assistance getting down from here,” he explained, feeling the last shreds of dignity that he had blowing away on the wind.
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Rather than thanking him properly, the stranger mocked him. That's what he got for fixing the guy's problem? Sheesh.

Oh, but it only got worse.

They summoned him, demanding assistance in getting down from the tree. Seriously? What, did the guy think he was royalty and could boss him around? Sounds like someone else he knew...

Val's eyes narrowed on the figure still clinging to the tree like a newborn to its mother, his expression clearly unamused. “You've got legs, don't you? Just jump.” Or was even that so hard for a spoiled man like him?

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To the prince giving orders came as naturally as breathing and he was accustomed to those orders being obeyed. In Lumiere nobody dared to disobey, mock or insult him. Living as a powerless wolf whose orders were dismissed without hesitation was proving to be a challenge especially when even the animals saw fit to ridicule him. It was so unfair!

A growl rumbled in his throat and he clenched his teeth, glaring at the willful beast. “ What else can I expect from an uncultured beast? It is not like an animal knows how to behave like a gentleman,” he grumbled to himself out loud. “I suppose I should be relieved that he understands the common tongue. Good manners would be expecting too much,” he continued, nodding his head to himself in agreement.

As for climbing or jumping down the tree… well there was a predicament. Etienne was a very small wolf and though it wasn't far off the ground it was high enough to make him feel his stomach drop. He awkwardly shuffled on his belly to the edge of the branch, wiggling his haunches off the edge so that half his body dangled precariously. Then his forepaws slipped and he began to fall.
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An uncultured beast? Damn, maybe this guy really was worse than his brother. He expected things that no one owed, especially not to a complete stranger.

“I don't owe you shit,” He spat, a sudden ferocity in his voice. How dare this imp of a man demand such things of him?

He was just about ready to turn tail and leave, but a panicked sound jerked him back around. Groaning in frustration and annoyance, he dove forward, aiming to place his body beneath the flailing idiot and save his fall. This guy was sure as fuck going to owe him for this.

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The prince’s ears cringed at the sound of such filthy words and now his innocent mind was tainted by the memory of their existence. Mon dieu. The common tongue was such a vulgar language and if it wasn't necessary he wouldn't speak it. A pity that those oafish wolves were not enlightened enough to speak Lumerian (French). At least then the wolf’s crude words would sound classy rather than crass. His thoughts were written clearly across his face in the way his brows knitted together and his lips twisted in disgust. Etienne was not impressed with this beast.

Alas he was not able to hold on to the remnants of his dignity. He fell like a newborn bird tipped from the nest, crying out (it was a very elegant yelp) and flailing (as if he was dancing through the air) as he descended. His body hit something, lumpy and warm, an animal carcass? Etienne prodded at the thing beneath him before finally opening his eyes. It was the beast! Surprise, shock, horror, confusion made his lips twitch and brow raise. “You-” he began, clearing his throat to soften the accusatory tone that instinctively forced its way out. “Ahem. Good job,” he praised the wolf and tentatively attempted to pat him on the head with a forepaw. Dogs liked praise and head pats so he assumed that a wolf was no different. He hopped off of the wolf’s back, and tried to brush himself off with his paws although they were not as effective as hands.

The demon rabbit still lay limp at the base of the tree. His reward for this disaster of hunt, he supposed. Technically it wasn't his kill, but the presumptious prince assumed that since he had found it he owned it. “I suppose I owe you a reward for your service,” he finally said, very unenthusiastically. Personally he thought that being able to assist a prince as amazing as himself was reward enough for anyone, but sadly not everyone agreed. They always wanted something of monitary value or worth. How materialistic of them.

“You may take a share of the rabbit,” the benevolent prince offered the hunter his prey as if he was making a noble sacrifice.
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