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His head pounded—a pain unlike anything he’d ever felt before. But that, he knew, would be the least of his worries. Groaning, he slowly awoke from what felt like an incredibly long slumber. The world around him began to materialize, but it was nothing he could recognize.

“Where...?” His words trailed off as he took in the unfamiliar landscape, his mind still clouded with confusion. A long sigh escaped him as he pushed himself onto his paws, shaking off the unease that clung to him. He had no idea where he was, or how he had ended up here, but he couldn't afford to stay still.

His golden gaze swept the area, searching for something—anything, really—but there was nothing. No signs of life, no familiar landmarks. Where was he supposed to go from here? Dagda realized that finding someone, hopefully someone who wasn’t hostile, and asking about this strange place might be his best bet. But how would he even begin when everything around him seemed so... lifeless?

He started walking, his paws moving with no particular direction in mind, until eventually, he spotted something in the distance—someone else. A figure in the clearing, their fur subtly contrasting against the vast sea of green. The moment Dagda saw them, a wave of unease settled deeper within him. It seemed he would have to go out of his way to be social, after all. As he approached his gaze remained neutral, his expression soft and body language relaxed. “Excuse me,” he cleared his throat, “would you be able to tell me where I was?”
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Of all the shades of wolf there could possibly be the fellow that approached him was brown. Now Etienne did not discriminate, but there was a pattern amongst the earthen pelted wolves that made him hesitant. Both brunettes that the prince had encountered were vulgar beasts that had no manners. Light pink eyes narrowed ever so slightly, snow tipped ears twitching in preparation for an uncouth string of words to barrage his ears. What followed was a pleasantly worded question that did cause any offense. Etienne relaxed, deciding to give the wolf a chance. It was a privilege to be greeted by a prince as magnificent as Etienne after all.

“I have no clue,” he admitted with a confidence that usually came with knowledge and not the absence of it. “Somewhere north west,” Etienne offered, cocking his head and squinting as he glanced at the positioning of the sun. He didn't realise that this was yet another wayward soul that had been trapped here.

“Which direction did you come from?” the ever so helpful prince asked, already plotting to cash in the favour once he had aided the stranger. He appeared to be more suited to physical labour than Etienne, whose delicate frame was already suffering from trying to survive in the wild without his human comforts. He had already tried and failed to catch his own dinner and said dinner had chased him up a tree. Ugh. Rabbits were vicious creatures. Hopefully this great bear of a wolf did not have the taste for royal flesh too. It was hard overcoming his human instincts to not fear beasts larger than himself. He was still half convinced that one day he would be eaten by them.
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I have no clue.

There was a subtle pull against his lips which indicated it was not the response he was looking for, but Dagda simply nodded. Maybe his company also found himself in the same predicament and Dagda just so happened to find himself unlucky that he didn't find someone more knowledgeable. At the very least he knew he was somewhere northwest, and then he was asked which directed he came from. The frown that tugged against his dark lips seemed to grow just a little more at the question. “Surely this is going to sound odd but,” he inhales a sharp breath. “I have no recollection of where I was before this. It's as if I just woke up from some kind of deep slumber.” Dagda studied his company because surely there was going to be some kind of confusion over his words. 

The uncertainty of where he was made the man uncomfortable. Starting over wasn't part of his plans, but the memories of where he once originated seemed fleeting. What an out of body experience this all was, truly. 

“It wasn't my intention to waste your time, however.” He added, thankful that this stranger took the time to even attempt to help to begin with. “I'm Dagda,” he offered, though he expected nothing in return. He did note, however, the way the man's ribs sunk slightly beneath his pelt. He was smaller than Dagda, and while he didn't want to make assumptions it didn't seem he was eating very well. Despite concluding this, he refused to make it his business unless it was brought to his attention. 

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Etienne was encouraged by the wolf’s cordial speech. It gave him hope that the lupine species were not as vulgar and uncouth as the ones had met thus far suggested. While the canine could not compare to a courtly gentleman he was at least more civilised than the rest of his species. Could he possibly be a human like Etienne? He didn't appear to be having an identity crisis… nor was he surprised to be walking on four legs. There was an ease in which he handled his body that suggested it was the one he was born into. The prince’s ears twitched as the wolf began to tell his tale and he felt a dip of disappointment in his stomach that he wasn't a human after all. Or at least he didn't say he was.

“Odd? Non. That is pretty normal here. Nothing about this place makes sense,” the prince let out a weary sigh and shook his head. “I used to be a human before I awoke here in a wolf’s body. I don't know how you cope. It's awful. I hate it,” he whined, stamping his front paws in a mini tantrum. “If I find a way to return to my body I’m never going outside again,” he huffed, ignoring the fact that his old body was very much dead.

The sullen pout that was pushing his lips together softened when an introduction was offered and he quicky adopted a charming smile. “Enchante, Monsieur Dagda. I am Prince Etienne Belmont LaRose Anthelme,” he introduced himself in a grand manner, doing a little twirl so that Dagda could admire him from all angles. His wolf body might not be what he wanted, but damn if he didn't look good in fur
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Dagda blinked, taken aback when the man calmly explained that it wasn’t odd at all. His brows furrowed, the confusion written clearly across his face. So, this happens often? he thought, though the question should have been an audible one he kept himself from asking. None of it made sense, but that was not where any of it ended either.

What had he just heard? “Human? ” The word lingered in the air, and he couldn’t help but wonder if this man was playing some kind of trick on him. After all, Dagda had no idea where he was, how he got here, or even what was going on. It would be so easy for someone to prank him, to have a laugh at his expense. But as he studied the stranger more closely, something in the man's demeanor made him reconsider. Maybe... just maybe, he wasn’t joking.

“Enchante, Monsieur Dagda. I am Prince Etienne Belmont LaRose Anthelme,” the man said, and Dagda’s confusion deepened.

Dagda inhaled a sharp sigh, not being able to quite find the words that he was looking for. “I must confess, I will not remember all of that,” he admitted. What a day it had been so far, he wasn't quite sure if some pieces of it were maybe just was a fever dream. “Would it be appropriate to just call you Etienne?” Because there was Dagda was going to be calling him Prince, sir, or his lord.
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Silence passed between them as Etienne regarded him with a quizzical tilt to his head. There was a slight hint of confusion in the inflection of his tone. Human? It cemented the fear in his heart that he might have somehow arrived in a world where humans did not exist which meant that plumbing did not exist, heating did not exist, and worst of all there was no civilisation. Mon dieu. He felt like he might faint again. No. He would find the humans and they would save him. “Humans are an advanced species of superior intellect and adaptability,” he explained, wondering how to describe humans to a wolf. “We walk upright on two legs and only have fur on our heads,” he tried to offer a picture of what humans would look like to a wolf and wondered what monsters Dagda was conjuring in his head.

Then to top it off Dagda wanted to refer to him by his first name as if he were just a peasant and not a prince “E-Etienne?” Etienne stammered in horror as if his name were a grave insult. “Non. Non. Non. It is Prince Etienne. I insist upon it, Monsieur Dagda,” he stated firmly, pink eyes wide with anxiety. He feared losing any more of his identity than he already had. If he became simply Etienne then he was nobody at all.
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It seemed he had much to learn, but thankfully the self-proclaimed Prince was able to give him some insight about these...humans. As he listened he tried to grasp what it was like, but he would not admit that he'd fallen short. Walking on two legs seemed nearly impossible, and if they weren't covered in fur than what protected them from the cold. “That sounds odd,” he finally stated. While he didn't try and dismantle the man before him, he was beginning to think that perhaps there were some screws loose up above.

Regardless, he kept those thoughts to himself.

Calling him Etienne simply would not do, and it seemed Dagda had almost offended him by the suggestion. His darkened lips pulled into a slight frown. “I'm sorry, and truly I don't mean to be rude, but—” he cleared his throat. “There is no way I am calling you Prince, as I do not believe anyone should be ruled by some self-proclaimed hierarchies.” Dagda was not a man who would bow to any King or Prince. He did not believe one body was capable of being a higher power over all.

“Perhaps we can meet in the middle?” He offered, despite his beliefs. 

@Etienne
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Hearing that humans were odd coming from a talking wolf almost made Etienne laugh. The soft curve of his pink mouth twitched with amusement and he cleared his throat to disguise the sound of a very unprincely snort. “I am hoping I can find more humans or at least someone who can change me back to the way I was,” Etienne admitted, his white forehead blaze wrinkling slightly as his stomach fluttered with anxiety.

His mood only soured further when Dagda refused to address him by his title. The corner of his eye twitched and he released a drawn out sigh. Etienne did not understand Dagda’s point of view and that only confused him further. “Monsieur Dagda,” Etienne began, trying his best to stay patient despite the childish urge to demand respect. “I do not understand.”

“Hierarchy is normal for wolves, non?” the prince asked, rubbing his brow with a forepaw. He was confused and concerned that anything other than a hierarchy could exist. Such radical thoughts frightened the simple minded prince.

A devilish thought occured to the petty prince. If Dagda wouldn't call him prince then he would get him to call him something else. “Fine. I will accept an alternative. Call me, Beau, — Handsome” he insisted, his lips forming a little smile.
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