Monsters Calling Home

light assumption/pp - can edit if needed!

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 Deep within the opaque mist of morning, a liquid warble gurgled from a drowsy bird. The day welcomed with trickling song, Dreadnought moved within the fog, her charcoal form a fuzzed-out shadow against the backdrop of lesser mountains.

 Called back to the jagged stones she'd discovered months before, she honed towards the brutal coast with an instinctual knowing, pushing herself until her paws ached. 

 But she was not the only one who traversed these lonely foothills, and she turned, sensing another in the murk. “Show yourself.”

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A ghost.

A spectre wandering the grounds and mountains as he easily crossed the peaks toward a goal that he was uncertain of. Certainly, there was something out there for him. An end goal that would occupy his time rather than lazying around a group of wanderers who didn't quite need him anymore. He was a warrior, not some guard dog, not some pet who accompany some whimsical fragile group.

Someone else was lurking nearby with him—one he could easily ignore—but the feeling wasn't mutual. A voice called out to him, demanding to make his presence clear. The shroud that surrounded them helped to conceal his body whether he wanted it to or not. So he approached the voice, cautiously, slowly with a non-aggressive mask despite the one half-exposing every tooth and muscle that he couldn't hide anymore with the lack of skin.

For now, he said nothing.

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 Like a specter, an outline appeared through the haze. 

 Dreadnought stood rigid, hackles wired and tail stiff as she faced the phantom. But the ghost was nothing more than a wolf. A man. 

 When the stranger stepped closer she saw a ruin. Scars were signs of battles survived, of opponents fierce and worthy. But they were good for a bit of heckling, too.

 “You must be forgetful to have misplaced half your face.”

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Her hackles rose which breathed life into his. Rising and falling off his frame as though they themselves pulsed with a life of their own. Other than her darkened appearance, she was of average appearance. A dark blight within the pale mist who stuck out while he faded into it.

The woman's taunting didn't lift the scowl off his partial face. “Is this why you called out to me?” The one lip rose as ears tilted back in annoyance. Being demanded to come and "show themselves" only to be jeered at by some woman.

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 To his credit, he didn't shrink from the teasing nor rise to snap at the bait. Dreadnought had been bred to believe that emotions were a hindrance, that strength was defined by the ability to school them into dissipation. 

 “I would know the strangers that tread close to me, yes.” She replied, her hackles remaining upright, though the edge in her voice was buffed smooth. “Do you travel to or away from home?”

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“Knowing and insulting are two different things.” He stated quite plainly. For someone who called him to her and insulted him, she was the one who was on edge. Despite his own bristled back, the Archangel was quite relaxed as his tail and posture would indicate.

“I have no home.” The man's eye hardened at her questions. He felt as though he was being interrogated despite being in neutral lands, despite the fact he would have been completely content in passing her by without a word shared between them or even a single glance. “Why the cross-examination?” A flick of his tail was all that was offered to indicate his hidden annoyance.

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 As the sun continued its lazy rise, the fog began to thin, burning off into wisps of morning vapor. 

 Dreadnought huffed. “As I said before, I would know the strangers that tread close to me.” 

 A wanderer, a warrior - the pair had far more in common than the she-wolf would admit. “I would ask where you're headed, but I don't want you to mistake curiosity for an interrogation.”

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He paid no mind to the mist around them, focussing only on the woman who had seemingly called him out to meet her just to insult his face. “This sort of curiosity from a stranger is always suspicious.” He spat out in return with a single-eyed glare solely on the woman standing before him.

“If you must know, I have no destination. I'm simply wandering.” Annoyed, his tail flickered behind him impatiently. The dark woman wasn't the worst thing he could have come across, but perhaps his patience wasn't the best today... or ever really.

Especially when one was so blatant and open about his missing features.

Never again would the world see his handsome face for what it was - instead just a warrior who had pieces of him stolen through the years.

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 He carried himself with enough credence not to sound like a fool. Lone wolves were rare enough, but those with no destination were rare enough to be remarkable. 

 “Is the pack life not suited to you? Or perhaps it is you who is not suited for pack life?”

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“Neither.” He growled impatiently at her assumptions. Though sometimes he did question if such things were true - if a beast like him would be worthy for any pack or perhaps the other way around. But that didn't mean he had completely left the idea behind in the sands of time.

“We are done here.” A flash of teeth made his point. The man's patience had run thin and he wished to continue on the path that he had been so rudely taken away from for an odd string of questions from someone he deemed insignificant enough to answer. It would be his first attempt to walk away from the woman, a side-eye offered as a single challenge for her to stop him.

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 She let him go with no attempt to stop him, a minute curl of her lip her only form of goodbye.

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