When I'm banging on the radio

 The night was chill, but it was clear that summer was already about. Much of the snow and ice had disappeared and was no longer falling fresh every day. Birds had started to migrate from warmer climates to their summer home in the north. The light from a waxing moon shone brilliantly across the horizon. In the low light, Valmúa's steel eyes shone like mirrors, hunting for a quarry that was unlikely her usual targets.
 She entered the evergreen forest with a steady step, her feet crunching among old leaf litter, much of it freshly defrosted. In her jaws she carried a fat snowshoe hare, which had turned brown for the spring and summer. It was large, and looked awkward even in her large mouth. It was difficult to smell whether the creature she sought was really here, but she had come intentionally and with purpose.
 Dropping the catch for a moment to press her nose close to a tree trunk, she noted the rather wretched and pungent odour of the demon. There was little mistaking it. For such a beast, it was clear that he didn't fear advertising his presence. With her head low, Valmúa grabbed the gift and moved further into what should have been enemy terrain.
 She was scared. She would have been stupid to not be, for she walked toward the lair of a devil. But it was a devil that held some kind of wisdom, and Valmúa wanted to know more.
 She had only ever gotten what she wanted in life by twisting her reality that way, and so, she kept onward.

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The night was still young, the moon beat down upon the great cat, casting his silhouette on the forest floor below.  In his solitude he had time to ponder many things, in fact being left with ones thoughts for too long was a dangerous game.  The quiet whispers of the forest and gentle glow of the moon could cause one to see and hear many things.  A dangerous game to commune so personally with the all, yet an insightful one, a thought could be taken to its full extent here, either showing unknowable secrets or descending into dark ponderings.  Either way the true nature of things would slowly reveal itself.  

Sitting there on his hind legs the cat sat atop of a small outcropping that could give him a good vantage on the forest before him.  He sat relaxed and still, holding his head slack as he stared blankly across the tree studded expanse, both letting his mind wander, and keeping his keen senses tethered to the world, in the case that he would detect his next meal. 

Then he heard it, a movement.  Someone had entered his domain once again.  A gentle breeze seemingly sent by some greater force at once rushed its way through the trees, howling, delivering to him a scent: A wolf of the mountain...  Turning his head, the cat's heart skipped a beat, as he felt the adrenaline surge through his veins; perhaps preparing to fight once more.  Sitting atop an rocky outcropping, the cat would only be a silhouette against the moon to the approaching canine, casting his shadow far forward.

 She approached... it was the cinnamon wolf, silver eyes lit by the moon, with the great wind at her back.
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 Among the stars, she found the king of his domain at the helm. Her own footsteps scraped loudly upon the floor of this evergreen palace, while he remained lord above her. She was but a servant then brought to the court of some tyrant, yet Valmúa knew better, and knew that he had only been rumoured as a tyrant in their neighbouring kingdom, soon to be Queendom she hoped.
 Valmúa had always had good instincts about people. Most would never have considered the cat beast to be included in "people," but the fire woman was no fool. She had seen the beast take Thalia at her backside and pin her. True that he had treated her as a weightless ragdoll, a mere rat among gods, but he had every chance to kill her. He had not. Her brother too, though he had suffered wounds, had been largely unscathed. He had done this intentionally.
 They had been in mid conversation when her brother had struck him, and that was why she was here.
 The fire woman stepped forward, and the moon shone in her eyes, and she could see nothing of his kingly face but the black stain he set before the moonlight. She squinted, gently setting down the hare and walking backward to make her intention clear. “You are no demon,” she declared openly. “Please accept this gift, for our discussion ended poor,” she said, and did the service of bowing her head.
 She was shivering. He could kill her. She put trust in him, despite knowing what seemed like nothing. If her intuition was incorrect, her kin would find her head in the wilds.

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The wind had brought her here for a reason, the night was always good to him.  At once the adrenaline began to drain from his being due to her words, as she did not come for a fight. 

She did not come to slay the demon of the wood. 
She would not try to prove her worth to her pack.
She would not force the demon to send ripples of sorrow back to her loved ones. 

She would make peace with her neighbor.   

'No demon'... I would have never thought...  The cat looked down from his throne of stone, leaping to the humble floor below.  He seemed to fall gracefully, as if not affected by the full weight of the world, landing on the forest floor without making much of a sound.  Extremely pleased, Kuhn was happy to be free of at least one of his enemies in this world.   Approaching the quaking girl, he padded his way towards her, he could smell the fear, and the gift!  As he exited the shadow of the stone, his own features became apparent as he sauntered closer, his shoulder blades oscillating to and fro against his striped hide, all  in rhythm with his tail. 

He stopped short of her, giving her a bit more space this time. He took a another moment to contemplate her words.  "Someone once told me, to 'be your friend's true friend. Return gift for gift. Repay laughter with laughter again but betrayal with treachery.'  I'm glad you came"

Hávamál

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 The grace in which he moved was so unlike her own kind. She hated and respected him for it, for she had never been considered graceful or sleek. He was easily twice or thrice her own weight, yet the ease with which he spilled off of his rock to claim the his offering was poetry in motion. Every motion was like a dance, an ethereal trance among her stocky and forceful movements.
 The paws themselves were as big as her face. They crept easily along the floor, and his bulk seemed so much more visible without the defence of Thalia or her brother in mind. His colour, too, and the thick fur that ran along his neck. She understood why Thalia had called him "demon," for he seemed to have been created from hellfire itself.
 She crept back quickly as the vibration of his approach reached her, though she hadn't meant to.
 His words were curious, and she turned her head to the side, blinking quickly, wondering. “You are?” She had assumed he would want nothing more to do with them. But so far, she was correct, possibly, for he hadn't moved to kill her just yet. Her body remained tense. “Thalia called you a demon, but I saw you did not hurt her. I am sorry my brother hurt you before we could talk,” she offered, swallowing a huge pile of saliva and phlegm.
 “I have also been judged before I could show myself.” She stated it with no story offered. “This, then, this is your home?”

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Kuhn didn't approach any further.  She still reeked of fear, but now was not the time for that.  In order to help alleviate the girl's tension the cat leaned back back onto his hind legs laying on his chest.  Still able to summon a massive amount of power from his hind legs, he could make a move if he had to. 

"I am glad you came, It is good that we can atone." 

He didn't make a move towards her, or the gift. For the time being he was more interested in the current that brought two souls to make peace that night.  Tilting his head to the side, Kuhn waited with his ears perked as he listened to the Cinnamon wolf spill her feelings and apologies on the situation. Taking note of what she said,  actually admiring her bravery, not just for coming here, but for her willingness to expose herself.  

"It was brave of you to come here. Though, I don't think you did much wrong."
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 Being a cat, he did not answer her directly. He did not even answer her question, but she had expected this. Instead, he sat there, leaning back on his haunches, and so she mirrored him, sitting as well. They stood a good distance apart, but it was close enough to hear one another in the quickly brightening air. Quickly, the sun would be upon them again, but not nearly quick enough. For the time being the moon was all that stood watch.
 The cat seemed to listen, despite answering her rather indirectly. She wetted her lips and took a small step forward before seating herself again, so as to see him better.
 In the light, he appeared almost green or grey. The blue moonlight filtered through the conifers defied his true colour, and she realized this this colour must also have been how others saw her reddish pigment. The dappled nature of him was immediately more ghost-like, for the stripes this close were more apparent and almost frightening in the ease at which they allowed him to blend. Nothing seemed designed for camouflage, and yet when still, she had found herself hunting for his outline as it faded with its surroundings.
 “Nor you, apart from attacking my comrade,” she snarked. She meant to appease him, not lie to him. “But she is fine, of course. And you meant for that.” She said it as though it were a fact, but his intentions that day were uncertain. She had dragged back a kill. He had seemingly tried to take it. Thalia attempted to ward him off, he had attacked her, done no harm to her, and then Stjor had been... Stjor.
 The fire sister wanted to know what had driven them all to that point. She wanted to know whether she should fear or befriend, or both this great king of the north.

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In the silent moment Kuhn finally took a moment to look her over, it was un mistakenly the cinnamon wolf from that day.  The moon made it difficult to pick up what color she was, though he remembered her being ginger, the memory was likely attached to the scent. He hadn't gotten a close look at her eyes until now; a silver grey, not unlike his own.   The color of her gaze only amplified by the moonlight, appearing almost ethereal and piercing. The cat didn't take much offense to her half jest about attacking her comrade, returning a chuff instead. 

"Its not like you left me much of a choice... but, my apologies for my intrusion, I wasn't trying to take your kill."  

Taking a long inhale the cat looked to the star spackled sky, ignoring the part about him sparing her comrade, before looking back to the wolf, choosing to answer the question from a moment ago. 

"I am Kuhn, this is my home..."
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Disco for Hrafnsvaktin

---

 His voice too felt far smoother than it should, like some sexualized creature tempting her from the dark. Words slid off of his tongue in a similar way as hers, sans Icelandic accent. The cat was a puzzle no doubt, and each piece of it excited her.
 When he confirmed that he had not been trying to steal her kill, this both did and didn't surprise her. She recalled him, striding up, pressing a paw on it, and showing himself as quite grand. No animal in their right mind would do such a thing when they weren't trying to steal a kill, and yet he had. She had never understood what he wanted, and so she had reacted in the only way she knew how: defensively.
 Yet here he sat before her, a great king willing to listen to her vague and volatile voice. “I am Valmúa,” she answered to his introduction. “The mountain you caught me on we call Hrafnsvaktin.” They had named it because it had no other name, and nothing more.
 “I am sorry, but what are you? Only the 'mountain lion' was a cat I knew, and the smaller types,” she wondered. “My family is not from here.” Once more, she stated what was likely obvious.

---

+2 Discovery Points

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Normally, Kuhn would relish in the scent of fear; to the cat the reek of fear on another meant that he was in control.  However, right now he didn't mind that his visitor was letting it dissipate, after all it was just her that came here; there seemed to be no pack, no tricks.  To Kuhn this had an added effect, he himself felt better, calmer.  Releasing the tension in his hind legs he unwound the muscles in his legs, not planning on needing to summon his strength any time soon.  If she didn't notice that he was half ready to ponce before, his relaxation in posture would give that away now. 

"Valmua...", He replied, in gravely voice giving the name time to breathe, while stretching out his upper back, pressing his shoulder blades up while unsheathing his claws into the ground.  He took a moment to put a name to the scent, flicking his tail. 

She really was interesting, coming this far to meet him, in fact she really didn't fit the mold for most wolves, not only was she here now risking her hide, but he could vaguely remember her being the one to actually try and talk to him.  He could just eat her, if he where more of a 'demon'.  It might have been considered rude to a wolf the amount of time the cat would stare at her, studying her, trying to take in anything he could about her, from her athletic stature, her ginger coat, to the expression on her face; that might give insight to her mind, her way of doing things.  

"Oh me... I'm not sure what I am, there aren't many of my kind, so we haven't given ourselves a name, I have been called mountain lion before, suncat..." He paused for a moment, smiling a fanged grin "...Demon", he added with a playful growl.
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 His general posture and the shift in it did not go unnoticed. She was well aware that she had placed herself within the grasp of an easy and terrible death, but she had long been a gambling woman, addicted to risk when its rewards suited her. Eying the twitching of his banded tail, Valmúa was reminded of a poisonous serpent from old tales. Though snakes had hardly been a threat in the north, there was something old and terrifying about the patterning of the cat, something that troubled the bottom of her gut, even as she began to relax.
 Kuhn stretched as he spoke her name, and in every motion she could see power, and she was reminded again of how easily he might have torn any one of them apart that day on their mountain. She respected this, yet fear no longer took her.
 “Then to me you are Kuhn,” she answered swiftly, nodding her head. She had never heard of a suncat, and he was no demon, as she'd told him. Mountain lions were far smaller and less formidable. He was as she was, born of mountains and flame — only he did not have any need to play politics as she did.
 “My brothers believe themselves wiser than me,” she said, “but they often answer with teeth before words or reason.” She did not bother to explain that it had actually been her howl that had brought Stjornuati to her, as that was an inconvenient fact. “What can I do to make your life with my family easier?” She was unlikely to be able to convince her brothers not to attack the cat, especially whenever the first female became pregnant. Valmúa wanted to get ahead of that game.

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This lupine woman with every passing second interested the cat more and more.  Not only was she interesting, the amber woman was offering to do him a favor; presumably acting as a mediator with her pack.  Her general demeanor began to change, the scent of fear; almost entirely dissipated.   It wasn't often that Kuhn would get a long look at a wolf like this.  Cocking his head in fascination, he noted her peculiar color of amber, not unlike his own.  Though she lacked the bulk of his own kind she seemed athletically capable, enough so that he presumed that she may be able to run him down in the long haul. It would probably be so with the rest of her family, which could be troublesome. 

The feline gave thought about her brothers: the type to bite before trying to speak; there was more than one way to use a mouth. "Your brothers... Its wise to always carry your claws with you.  But foolish to place them in a strangers flesh.  You will make foes from friends eventually."  He had to think for a moment, she brought up an important point.  He gazed up at the starlit heavens, licking his chops; as if searching for thought in the very same place.  "You have done your part, now it is I that must repay gift for gift."

Usually, wolves' didn't meet him because they meant to, It was usually circumstantial.  She had gone out of her way to come here. He had to admit, it felt nice to be called by his name; rather than 'Demon' or the name of some species.  Whether he knew it on not, she was growing on him.  Reaching forward Kuhn grasped the hare under a massive paw, dragging it to himself, claws hooked into flesh

"You told me that you had been pre judged, before you could show yourself..."  After asking the question, an audible tearing of flesh and pop of ligament could be heard; the cat had easily torn the hare in two, spilling its gore. He did not yet eat, he waited for her answer before indulging himself.

Quotes edited from the Havamal

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 She listened as he turned his head. His stare was intense and uncomfortable, but this was the way of cats, she had learned. They knew how to see through someone. For her part, she dared not stare back, for that was never a gamble she would win. Instead, her eye contact was shifted to his neck and chest within the darkness, occasionally darting to a random tree to break such intensity.
 “Indeed,” she agreed. Part of her felt concerned almost for the future of their little group. Without her at the helm, they could be lost to a foolish battle such as the one between Stjor and Kuhn, where Kuhn would have won without doubt had no one intervened. Her brothers would get themselves killed. She must circumvent this too.
 As the great cat reached out to grasp her offer, she almost flinched. The stress and power of the claws as they sunk into the flesh of the young hare was audible. More sound still had come from the noise of his strange tongue against a shallow face. The indulgence of the prey's tear did not excite her, too intrigued was she by his words.
 But he asked for more, and she gave it readily. She saw his wisdom, and shared all she could show. A pause passed between them as she thought.
 “I am a woman,” she said simply. “As a woman, I am expected to both be a warrior, to produce and rear children, and thus to be interested and agreeable to men.” The statement was clear. Valmúa did not tell him if this was true or not, she simply moved on, cracking her neck to one side.
 “Women are stupid. Women are to be taken. Women are to be owned.” She ran her tongue across a canine. “For me it is my sex that people judge me. For you it is your species. We are the same, in a way,” she pondered, looking to the skies as he had before. This left her neck exposed to him, which was both intentional and not so.

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The cat sat there attentively, with his paw clutched to the hare; listening.  He didn't didn't feel the need to talk to much just yet.  Something about her had changed, though he knew little about the fire woman.  There was not a whiff of unnerve from her now.  Whatever he was noticing in her, he figured that she just felt more comfortable; she seemed in her element.  That absence of fear, did un-nerve the cat a bit, but he decided that he would tolerate it for her.  Besides, people reveal themselves with there words in due time. He figured that the cautious speaks sparingly. Listening with ears, learning with eyes. Such is seeking knowledge.  

As he listened, Kuhn began to tear further at the hare, pinning one end down with a paw and tugging on the other with his jaws; trying to not make to much noise, as to not interrupt his guest. "I... wasn't aware that your kind was that way about females..."  From the corner of his slate eyes, he could catch a glint from the lupine woman's gaze, it was almost as if: she was now inspecting him, looking not at his entirety eyes but rather, at his body. Kuhn took a break from his work on the hare, making momentary eye contact, shifting his weight over to serve as a vent for some unknown tension.  In this break, the true nature of the cat's work was know, as he brushed half of the mangled corpse back to her with the back of his paw.  

Though his nature rebelled at the thought of it, he meant to reluctantly share what he received freely. Looking at her for a moment, to see her take her half; something odd caught his eye.  It was more than just comfort he picked up on, the woman was exposing her neck as she stared at the night sky. He responded mostly with his stare, as his tail danced to and fro.  Was she tempting him? Did she no longer fear that he would leap on her?  

Another modified Hamaval quote

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Ugh I just love these quotes -rolls in them-

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 At any point, the cat might have decided that she was no longer worth his time. At any point he might have turned on her, and thus, at any point he might have sprung forward to see her off. She knew very well he might also have decided to kill her. She would have little or no chance of escape from his retractable clutches. Rather, she allowed the danger. She bathed in it, a Sultana in truth.
 “I was not aware your kind was not that way to women,” she answered seamlessly. For a calm, dangerous moment, eye contact passed between them. She noticed that his eyes were not a standard gold or dull brown of the mountain lions she had seen before, nor commonplace wolves. Rather, they were dashing, and cold.
 The rabbit was passed to her, and she eyed him for a puzzled and curious moment before taking it readily; she had had a long journey, and had been willing to sacrifice the calories for him. Yet, for whatever reason, he offered them back in part. Valmúa pulled at the pieces and swallowed in chunks. She hoped, as she ate, for him to reveal what these mysterious cat women were like, for suddenly she herself felt like she had shown too much of the belly of her kin. So she ate.

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There was something alluring about the way this woman carried herself.  She came off as, powerful. Though this power was different way to what the cat would normally expect.  She lacked the size or musculature of his own kind yet, she seemed to make up for it with a grace that was all her own; seemingly in tune with reality, and ready to face it.

In the midst of Kuhn's stare, she dared to gaze back if not for only a moment.  Her silver steel eyes didn't convey much to him in the short time he was able to see into them. Those eyes, they where intelligent, shrouded in mystery.  He had to admit, they seemed to reflect that same alluring grace he noticed in the rest of her way of being. 

After that long moment, the banded cat retuned to the gore soaked hare under his paw.  It was good to see that she took to her half so willingly, that was a sure sign that the gift was not adulterated or tainted.  He would be a fool to so wholeheartedly trust someone he just met.    

"My kind mostly walks alone, so it doesn't matter much what you are."  His attention drifted back to his meal pinned under a paw.  Though she got a head start, he was able to consume the entirety of the hare in moments. Not bothering to rend the meat from the bone, the cat made quick work of the small creature crushing its bone and tearing its flesh simultaneously. 

Finishing early, Kuhn licked the back of his paw, content yet, disappointed that he let the other half go.  "I can tell you're bothered by what's expected of you.  I would would say we're all more than our species or our sex.  Perhaps its possible to transcend how you where born... Make your own way?"
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 Oh, to be solitary. There had been many times when the sister had wished that she had been wired this way, to not need the love and contact from others. She imagined that the cats lived a quiet life, full of listening to the sounds of their natural environment and waiting for opportunities in utter silence. Though she felt these moments too, she had trouble holding onto them. Much of her waking hours were spent, at least in part, in the service of others. It was a necessary thing in the life of a wolf, whose family and budding pack depended on her for survival.
 Kuhn ate quickly, and though this didn't surprise her, she found herself impressed that he could sustain such voracity at all. Cats were skilled in hunting, she knew that. It clicked into place just then that they had to be good — they would surely starve otherwise.
 Valmúa also ate quickly, though she had not the size nor the power to pull apart and swallow the bites as the feline had. She paused when he spoke, though only a bloody remnant of the animal still remained.
 “Of course it is,” she scoffed. “I will be far better than whatever my brothers believe is possible, just as you are far greater than the beast they think you are,” she declared. Words were easy, but she knew that one day, she would need to put action to such arrogance.
 She swallowed the last of the catch, and licked her lips clean, stretching out her front paws and back.

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It took a moment for it to kick in, but the contentment of a meal always made things a bit smoother. A wave of euphoria washed over the cat, relaxing his posture further as his visitor stretched.  Seemingly hitting him all at once the bliss of the simple things was apparent, the beauty of the stars and the whispering of the wind.  

The cat rolled onto his side with a contented groan, his feet longer underneath him.  "What do your brothers think is possible?  To me it looked like you where the one who was calling the shots."  

"Besides this..."  He continued, exposing his neck.  Kuhn showed off his half healed puncture wound that her brother had awarded him.
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 She watched him, noting the grace with which he lounged about and appeared carefree. Though she respected still his power and dignity, she enjoyed his relaxed nature; she had never seen another predator relax around her. It felt almost rewarding that she was allowed to view him in this way.
 “Perhaps I am,” she noted, unsure herself of the dynamic between her brothers and she. Surely she was of a greater status than Rökkvi, but then, that was hardly difficult. She seemed to be a key part of how things were run in their forming pack, but it was not entirely clear what her role was to be. She knew only that she would be part of things as they went, and that she would not be at the top. It was her brothers alone who would always hold that position, and this was not enough for Valmúa.
 And as the fire woman looked at the wound on his neck, she drew nearer, but slowly. “It is not good he saw things the way he did,” she admitted, breathing out a hefty, annoyed sigh at her indignance toward Stjor. “Had he been mine to rule, I would have disciplined him. He was responding to a call to the felled deer, not a call to arms.” She conveniently left out her vague memory of making a whole lot of noise with Thalia around the cat.

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"I might have done more than discipline him, but none of that needed to happen."   He replied obtusely, shaking out his mane.  "I don't really blame him too much, his heart was probably in the right place, he was prepared to die for you, and your family" He continued, looking to the starry sky and the clouds that hung in front of them.  "I suppose its your lot in life to enjoy that, its something I don't have." 

He was aware that she had moved forward, his calm posture had likely invited that.  He wouldn't typically be ok with that yet. The woman had sufficiently gave him reason to trust her, so far.  Pivoting his head towards her, he finally made the eye contact that he had been avoiding.  Rolling back to laying on all fours, the striped beast outstretched himself tepidly.  The massive feline extended his neck to sniff inches from the wolf's muzzle; whiskers brushing. The cat offered this semi universal greeting, that seemed to be common even among wolves.
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Somehow I thought we'd finished this. I'm so sorry. Maybe we can archive here and make a new one

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 She was tender how she went about it, for she had to be. Curiosity reigned as her metal eyes snuck a glance toward his great body. Indeed, he could have killed Stjörnuáti. He could have done so to all of them. They were not many, and with Thalia's vague heart at the time, the fire woman knew it unlikely for them to have survived at all. This was a choice that Kuhn had made.
 It was also his choice that he exposed himself to her, vulnerable and beautiful. Her step was tender, and she did not quite touch him as she sniffed at him, but they were close enough that she could feel the warmth from his orange body. In turn, she raised her head and lowered her body so that he might receive the same, intimate, greeting. She still knew full well he could kill her.
 As she stepped backward slowly, she kept her body low, for this was his domain.
 “I love my brother,” she said, her voice sounding softer, almost more effeminate. “If it is my lot in life to enjoy it, I will.” She breathed. She sighed. “Thank you, Kuhn, I enjoyed our chat. If ever you need anything, find me at Hrafnsvaktin.” Bowing her head, she returned to her brothers on the mountain, finding herself invigorated.

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+1 Discovery Points

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