Suit up and swing through the city

@Gjalla

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The Titan woke this morning with a void in his belly, an emptiness that brought him a wealth of craving. He emerged from his den, shaking off the ounces of sleep that robbed him of any true potential of a hunt, and made his way down towards the valley. What he desired today was not just the hunt itself, but company.

When he found her, his thoughts floundered. She was beautiful even when she sleeps. The thought fleeted quickly, urgency diminishing, but it still lingered there. He was but just a man. Beauty can come in many forms, but the way that she carried herself could persuade him. But he believed that she was still a brat, too high up on her horse to see straight in front of her.

Faust stepped forward to her while she lay in the valley, nudged her neck with his nose. A gentle gesture, one to gently rise her from the depths of sleep. "Jiōragon bē." — Get up, The titan grumbled towards her, his voice coated with a hoarse, gravelly tone, thick with the notion of sleep.

He side stepped her, waiting for her to join him at his side. Faust stole only one more glance at her as she would rise, eyes low and something dangerous glimmered. Princesses, he'd muse before ripping his eyes away. Almost like it pained him to do such a thing.

"Iksi jāre naejot arghugon." — We're going to hunt.

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Gjalla's body was lazily sprawled across a flat stone the night before and rested peacefully into the early morning. The sun had yet to climb over the mountains, but pastels of blue and yellow painted the sky from the distant rays. 

A wet nose would press to the nape of her neck, coaxing her from her slumber with a drained hum. Her brow furrowed in lingering tire, and her head lifted to find the source. The voice was rough with an accent that clung to his words, and she'd recognize it. A low hum would sound in the back of her throat, understanding as she mustered the strength to compose herself.
 
Dark paws would reach out in front of her, and she'd lean back into her heels and arch her back in a long stretch. "Olvie sȳrī," — Very well, she'd reply, straightening to claim the spot at his side. Perpetually moody, Gjalla still felt thick with sleep, blinking away a half-lidded gaze to clear her vision against the light.
 
The hollow had a fine choice of prey that would serve a fine breakfast, and she'd give him first pick. "skoros gaomagon ao crave?" — What do you crave? Gjalla had been a seasoned huntress in Stormrift, if rusty. She would perform her best for the Sévir's approval.

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Faust could not deny that she was graceful. The way that she stretched would catch the eye of any man, Faust included. He was no better than any other man that roamed the Vale. They did not need to act with such vicious chivalry. The Vale housed unaccompanied primal urges unshadowed by the threat of a regal force. While Faust may present as such, he too would indulge in such carnal premises. It's what made him a man.

Faust would continue on through the hollow. Its reach felt like it met no end. The grass was tall, but not tall enough to hide the passing herds of elk. The cervidae stood tall, unwavering against the blades of wheatgrass. A target. He would keep it in the back of his mind as they would walk together. He'd slow his pace to even stand beside her. As if he enjoyed her company.

"Elk." — Elk. Is all the Titan would say. He kept his head straight, but he jerked it lightly to the herd a few leagues out. "Hae bōsa hae konir sagon sȳz lēda ao, dārilaros." — As long as that's okay with you, princess..

He'd say nothing else until she prodded him with more. He found it continuously joyous to poke at her heritage. How lucky Faust must be then to have a princess under his watch. What honor must become of him. Faust was many things, but honorary to a throne had not been one of them. Did she expect such treatment? Such...chivalry from anyone else? He supposed that his brothers may treat her better. Tamir more so. He always treated women with such a soft touch, always more...sensitive when it came to the species.

Not that Faust wasn't.

But his father made it difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel. He'd learn over time what it meant to be a good man. A potentially good husband. What it meant to protect, to provide, to put his life on the line for. He hadn't found someone to offer such devotion to, although Tove came relatively close. Messy, that situation was. Messy indeed.

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Gjalla would choke down the embers that sparked in her chest and replace it with a humorless huff, . The princess pressed her tongue to her teeth and smoothed her brow, ensuring that the momentary lines of vexation remained invisible.

“Aōha jaelagon iksos issa udrāzma, Sévir.” — Your wish is my command, Sévir She’d purr, her voice like silk over a hidden blade. Her head tilted to align her gaze with his where a herd passed. “Gōntan ao emagon nykeā target isse mind, nykeā would ao raqagon naejot scout ēlī?” — Did you have a target in mind, or would you like to scout first? Her eyes glazed over them, horned heads tucked into the grass as they ate away at blades of green.

Gjalla envied that kind of peace, utterly carefree in the moment. Such a luxury was not afforded to her, nor to Vahaelarr — not yet. She hoped that this hunt could be a turning point, a shift in the balance that would grant her some measure of favor with Faust, elevating her from her current state of perceived uselessness.

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Gjalla's words would fly over his head. Whatever you want. Yeah, okay. Not returning her look, his eye would remain on the potential prizes that lingered in the fields. Depending on how well she took the instruction he provided, she could have the chance to earn a potential rank. A potential path of her choice. Or maybe even have Faust consider that possibility. But he was a fair leader, wasn't he?

"īlon jāhor urnēbagon syt sir." — We will scout for now. Faust concluded, glancing at the woman now who was born from the night sky herself. The thought bubbled in his head that she could've been plucked from one of the many stars overhead and dropped onto this very continent.

"Ao gūrogon geptot, nyke'll gūrogon paktot." — You take left, I'll take right. He ordered, watching as the herd had been centering themselves around the plentiful brushes of plants and supplemental fields of rich, green grass that the Vale grew. "Va issa udrāzma, īlon jāhor pryjagon." — On my command, we'll strike.

Faust didn't give the princess time to confirm his direction or not. He simply darted to the right, keeping his body low as he stalked the large beasts. While he didn't think they could take down a full bachelor, there may be some weaker, summer-grown calves that they could pick off.

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up to gjalla what prey she spots— i'll go based off what she sees!

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She only offered a hum in response, watching him peel from her side to the right while she tucked left, concealing herself in the brush. Her gaze lingered on the horned beast at the front, grazing at the side of a calf and its mother. Nevermind them.

Gjalla tunneled her vision to hone on her task, letting thoughts fade to primal hunger. Short breaths grew deep to soothe her heart, dark paws dragging her through the tall grass, hunkered low to the earth’s floor. The princess tracked left, looping around the herd. Her eyes flicked to each candidate with thoughtfulness. Too big, they wouldn’t kill it. Too small, they’d have to hunt again.

If she were less confident, she would’ve chosen the younger selection, but those were easy meals. Her pride did not outweigh her skill, but it offered comfort knowing she could handle herself. Teetering along the herd’s edge, an aged elk. The fur around their nose and eyes had begun to gray, weakness bleeding from deep chestnut eyes. They lived their life fully, today would be its end.

Gjalla scanned briefly for Faust, meeting his gaze with a steeled resolve as she nodded to the same elk with a familiar look. That one.

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Faust would watch as Gjalla scanned the herd of elk to make her choice. Today, it would be up to her if the wolves of Velaris earned a meal or not. He felt no remorse if the hunt would end in utter failure. This was a test for her judgement and her so-called skills that she was harnessing beneath that thick coat of privilege and prestige.

The herd supplied feeble choices. Young ones, middle aged, bucks, and elders. If he were with any of his brothers, they would dare to challenge the King of them all themselves. They could take it. He was sure of it. But he was not going to risk any of that with Gjalla— unless she willed it. But with the jut of her head towards the front of the herd, he followed her eye line to the elk of her choosing.

It wasn't a bad choice. A wise one. The elk had been marred with greying fur along its muzzle, its brow line. On the older side it meant that it would tire quickly. It would be a good choice. Faust would let Gjalla heed the spotlight today— he would be her servant for the day.

With a kick of his back legs against the ground, he sprung into a sprint. Low barks and growls left his throat as he honed in on the elder elk. They scattered as they would, and he would nip at the ankles of the grey one. But this wasn't his kill to make today. It was Gjalla's. He would make room for her to pass him, slowing his pace, and sidling from either point to ward off any elk that attempted to aid their elder.

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As Faust snapped forward, the elk scattered like autumn leaves in the wind. Gjalla surged forward, pushing hard on her hind paws as she weaved through the maze of startled elk.

The rhythmic beat of hooves shook through the meadow as they threaded through the chaos. Faust was kind enough to ward off the herd, presenting Gjalla space to hone in on their target.

Her lungs expanded with each inhale, labored by burning in her joints. The ache soothed into adrenaline, fierce in her chest. Her form swept alongside Faust to pass him, keeping the pressure on the elder - nowhere to go but forward. Her ivory teeth were a constant threat, ensuring panic clung to the beast until it grew tired.

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Faust continued to snap at the hooves of any approaching elk as they were desperate to hold their elder's life above their own. The mission would soon be obvious at its end when Gjalla took her place in front of the elder, blocking its path.

The elk that Faust snapped at would disperse without a second thought. Their grandeur would simmer down and the elder would brace itself for Gjalla's sharp bite. Faust panicked for a sliver of a moment when she hadn't taken the bite.

Take it.

Prove him wrong. Prove him wrong.

Faust glanced at her from around the elk's shoulder, eyes widening with a gleam. Take your kill, he wanted to hiss to her as he kept perfect pace with the animal. He didn't tire, but his stomach grew antsy with the scent of the elk teasing him.

One final elk attempted to make a breaking point, but Faust took it in stride. With a loud snarl and baring of his teeth, the cow pivoted and slid against the ground before she scrambled towards the herd.

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Gjalla let herself slip behind just a bit to aim for the elk's hind leg. The she-wolf's jaws clamped around the elk's leg as the creature let out a startled cry, its massive form crashing to the ground with wide-eyed terror.
 
With a burst of strength, legs kick out in panic in a futile attempt to ward Gjalla off. When exhaustion began to sink in, Gjalla seized the opportunity. Lunging forward, she bares her teeth and goes for the throat.
 
Crimson spills into her mouth as ivory teeth dig deep into tender flesh, squeezing around the creature's throat until it stills completely, life snuffed out beneath her fang. The stars would welcome it in the afterlife.
 
She releases the flesh from her mouth to look to Faust as the herd trickles away to a new, safer spot. Well?

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Faust watched as Gjalla didn't hesitate to take the life of the animal. Good, he feared that he may be disappointed. Disappointed that he would be proven right given her princess status. But he was finding a slim feeling of pride in his chest that he was proven wrong. Not very typical.

With a nod of approval, Faust took a step back. It was a nonverbal way of congratulating her on her hunt and urging her to take the first bite. It was well earned indeed.

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