hell's neighbor

 

 The reason that the fisherman was away from the Pass and not doing the normal task of hunting was simple. He was going for a walk. Nothing too serious nor anything to be worried about, he just needed a new a breath of fresh air. 

 Alexei moved with a quick gait, choosing small hops from broken rocks when he needed to cross them. A pattering ran fell around him, though he didn't seem to mind. It was refreshing in his little outing. 

 

---

for @Callanwolde ;; oh boy here we go
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 When his evening patrol was over, the beast absconded himself from the Hollow. 

 A hulking mass of brutality, Callanwolde had no skill for stealth and often scavenged meals he could not take down by force alone. 

 The clouds wept with the scattered infrequency of a moody teenager, drizzling streams of cool water that promised a season change soon. 

 He saw the tri-color wolf dancing across the rocks like a high-stepping dandy. The stranger was cloaked in shadow with a stark belly of white. The beast bunched his muscles, readying the steeled ligaments for an attack. 

 But the wind shifted, and he stalled. The wolf smelled of others. Of another pack. “You there.”

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 Truthfully, Alexei had noticed no one else. Stuck in his own little world, which was a common occurrence for him. The shift in the oncoming fall air warned him of another. 

Unfortunately, he was too slow, and as his head turned, his eyes met with a strapping brute. Every inch of the other reminded him of his ex beloved. "Oh, uh, yes?" He fumbled over his words. Amethyst eyes trying to find a point in him that would deter the thoughts of a chained collar jettisoned away.

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 The red bull was not well versed in pleasant conversation. Small talk was for the idle paws of Highbloods.

 Now, Callanwolde fumbled. So he spoke the only language he understood - ownership. “Who do you belong to?”

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 As Alexei focused on the other, he found deep shades of auburn in his coat and lime eyes. He took a breath and pushed the thoughts of his — the hound away. 

 'Belong to.' An arrow struck straight through the man's heart. He sounded like him, too. 

 Alexei felt taken aback as if they'd somehow started on the wrong paw. But they'd barely said a few words to each other. Part of him wanted to say 'himself', but he knew that was not the answer the other was searching for. "Shiroshika." He paused, "And... uhm... you?"

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 “That's a stupid fucking name.” 

 Callanwolde stepped closer to the Lowblood, muscles twitching. 

 “Highvalley.”

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 Even though rain fell upon their shoulders — Alexei could feel a heat, tension rising. The stranger's words made his face contort, confused to annoyed. "Hm." The whites of his eyebrows furrowing. The man moved a step forward, and Alexei felt his muscles tense. 

'Highvalley.' Alexei hadn't heard of them. But he'd make sure that the title stayed imprinted into his mind. "Great. Well. I'll be going. Nice to meet you... Highvalley-ian." The fisherman said, starting to move away, not turning his back on the colossal beast. 

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 The twitching, flighty movements of the black-cloaked wolf scratched a violently feral part of his brain. His muscles tensed, poised to chase, to rip, to devour. 

 The red bull inched, swaying on his feet. Then at last, he turned away. “Lowblood coward.”

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 The longer his violet eyes gleamed on the other, the more it felt like his time was ticking away, a bomb waiting to explode. The fisherman quickened his pace, huddling down, but keeping his guard up. Luckily enough, the Highvalley male didn't follow him. An exhale of relief made his heart release the tension and rapid beating. And finally, he could turn his back on the beast and start the anxious trek home. 

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