Private Snap Back to Reality

[Oleander Webb]

TAG: Gerwald Lechner

The city was ripe with opportunity. Many a corporation had seen its headquarters built here - almost a rite of passage for some. Proof they'd made it in the business world. But corporate greed wasn't the only thing that lurked in the nooks and crannies. The city was ripe with danger just as much as it was the opportunity for financial success. For wherever fortune paved its way, ruin followed.

It had been months - years? - since death given form had mingled with the likes of civilized society for more than a bite. Time had lost meaning - reduced only to hunting time and rest. There was no need for social calls, no hot trends to jump on, all fell obsolete in the face of pure, unchecked hunger. The shadows were his ally, the back alleys his hunting ground. His prey, any who caught him at the right time, the livelier the better in his book. The stronger the soup, the sweeter the taste.

A ping of technology, a relic nearly forgotten, grabbed his attention at the tail end of a meal - an admin assistant who'd missed the old sayings about talking to strangers. The hunter greeted the metallic noise with a snarl, turning his attention back to his meal and, finding them finished, letting the corpse unceremoniously topple. His prey had earned his most attentive esteem for the soup they provided, an esteem that vanished the moment they became an empty bowl.

​

The ping persisted. The Waking Nightmare was far from gentle as he fiddled with the device, the ghost of memories trying to slink to the forefront of his mind and place its purpose, thoughts clouded by the never-ending call to feast. A summoning? A banquet. A location? New hunting ground. Old allies? Fresh prey. Oh yes, he'd meet these relics of an old age.

But first, a bite.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
WEAPONS: Wolfsbane | Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
TAG: Oleander Webb

The days of the Confederacy were far off, yet everywhere the wolf looked the remnants of it lingered. Srina Talon was now the Empress of a Sith Order. Gerwald had stepped into a role that suited his talents, but perhaps not his power. That would change. More and more of the Knights Obsidian which had remained behind as he had to keep promises made were on the move. They continued to appear in the most unexpected places.

Gerwald decided to send out a broadcast on an old frequency for anyone listening to it. He would bid those who had once been under to enter his service once again. It would not be for the nation they once served, but for legacy. The wolf craved to prove he was more than the puppet of Sith Lords. He was a Sith Lord himself. Those who were losing their power would give way to those waiting to take it, and Gerwald was among the eager.

His loyalties to the Emperor and Empress made him a natural choice, but as was the way with Sith, Gerwald had been told to prove he deserved the honor and power. To do that he would need more than former Knights. Gerwald would need his shadow. Their frequency had been different. The wolf would ping it as well, and perhaps see if by an off chance he could locate the Anzat.

A summons was sent with a location to meet. Gerwald would be discreet for now. Only one among the current order knew of the shadow which had once followed Gerwald around, his agent and chief assassin. The lupine was not above employing him again for his own purposes or those of the current power he served. Nothing was hidden from Srina Talon, but this was a secret he would keep from the rest. Not even Empyrean would be made aware of the sinister agent Gerwald kept under his employ. Emypyran was not the only one with a weapon to wield. Where Gerwald was a blunt instrument, Oleander was a tool of exact precision.

 

[Oleander Webb]

TAG: Gerwald Lechner

The ever-present hunt was put on a momentary hold as Death poured over his old tools. It hadn't been that long since they were put to use, just long enough to cause pause. The nagging hunger made the process more difficult, leading to frustration before answers as he fiddled with the various buttons. Squinted eyes lead to a slight scowl as he went back and forth between fiddling with the technology and holding it as far from him as he could. Farsightedness had likely always been in his genes, but hibernation sickness had only worsened his vision. Fortunately, vision was a secondary sense when it came to his particular purpose. Annoying still, yes, but workable.

The pinged location wasn't too terribly far, nothing a speeder wouldn't make a short trip of. And it wasn't like his most recent meal would need theirs. In another day, a clearer head, the trip would've been spent contemplating the reasonings behind the summons. Perhaps it was by accident? Or a last-ditch plea for assistance. Or maybe someone's half-desperate attempt to reclaim what was lost. The options were endless, but in his current state he was far more concerned with other questions. Who would be there? How many? Was a simple yet hearty meal waiting for him or a veritable feast?

He stashed the speeder not too far off from the set location. It was better to walk in on his own terms, after all. Even under the guise of familiarity, stealth would always be his greatest ally. The shadows had been the closest he'd had to friends for the vast majority of his lifetime, second perhaps only to ravenous hunger.

It was a lonely existence, good in the name of survival itself, but sorely lacking in stimulation. Leander could use a good challenge. And perhaps a small, near silent part of him did long for some return to structure, to purpose. However small, that part of him that craved a familiar face was only another reason that propelled his feet forward. Silent, curious, hungry.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
WEAPONS: Wolfsbane | Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
TAG: Oleander Webb

Gerwald waited in seclusion. He could not risk others happening upon them in the meeting, and knowing the nature of his compatriot it was a caution which had been well taken. If Oleander was going to attempt to feed on anyone in this meeting it would only be the wolf. He knew that would not stop him from feeding anywhere else if he wished, but the wolf was certain that Oleander's curiosity, and another chance at the lupine, would be enough to draw him out.

He was late.

That annoyed Gerwald because it could mean too many things, and several of them were not good. He took in a breath as he stretched his senses out further, hoping to locate the Anzat. A smile crept on the wolf’s lips when he found his shadow to be close. Close enough the wolf called out.

“I know you’re near. Come out into the open where we can talk.”

Out in the open. It was not how they often met. Gerwald had usually seen to it that their meetings remained hidden away. Oleander had been just another member of the Knights Obsidian as far as anyone officially knew. His capacity as Gerwald’s agent, his shadow, was knowledge only two others outside the lupine had been aware of.

Srina had known. The Lord Commander never dared to hide anything from her. She was one of a few Gerwald could not lie to even if he tried. He had never wanted to. Metus had been the other, only for the sake of transparency. Gerwald had respected the leader of the Confederacy, but he could never have described their relationship as close. Their interactions had been borne of duty, not familiarity. It had never bothered the wolf as it may have some. It was not his destiny to be close to everyone he met.

“It has been too long since we last met. Come now, show me your face.”

 

[Oleander Webb]

TAG: Gerwald Lechner

The calling out gave him pause, recognition setting in. He knew that voice, yes. Not too long ago, he was loyal to it, in his own way. A sentimental figure would've mistaken the ping of excitement for sentiment. In his state now, however, he'd scoff at the notion. But sentiment was something he could take advantage of, if given the chance.

"Out in the open? That's new."

His voice had just the hint of scratchiness from a lack of use. He'd been an entity of few words before, when there were reports to be made and appearances to keep up. On his own, it was a tool that seldom saw use.

"I rather enjoy the shadows."

Instincts suggested he ignore the other's request, begin the hunt right then and there. Gerwald's force of will was something to be reckoned with, this he knew and had almost grown to respect before. The lupine-flavored soup promised to be a feast in its own right, nevermind his previous appetizer. But that wouldn't make for as fun a chase, would it?

"Oh? I haven't aged, if that's your concern."

Taunting as his words were, the creature pulled himself from the shadows that often encapsulated him. Still in his usual leathers, the Waking Nightmare was a shadow of his former self. The old weapons were still at his side, having gone unused but not quite forgotten over time. Not aged but weathered, cheeks sunken, bags casting shadows under his eyes. Said eyes once sharp with the intense focus of a single blade now a pit of just as sharp but far from focused knives. There was a spring in his step, maddened glee.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
WEAPONS: Wolfsbane | Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
TAG: Oleander Webb

"When you are hunting… you cannot hunt here. It is too obvious."

Gerwald had known Oleander, he had kept him in check at times. Without him, trying on his own, he could fall into a frenzy. He seemed to be under one now. Gerwald knew this put him in a dangerous position. Oleander would feed on him if the former Lord Commander was not careful. However, this was an asset he could not afford to lose, not with the advancements he was attempting.

There had already been much loss. The wolf knew he would never succeed in what he was planning without allies. He needed Oleander. Gerwald needed his shadow back. Just because he was the wrath of the emperor did not he could have his own agents. This one was special, important. He could kill silently and without any connection to the wolf himself. That had always been their arrangement.

"Work with me again. I can provide the same arrangement. I can give you a place to hunt."

It was the only way to keep him stable. Gerwald needed to direct the hunger, the need to feed. Oleander knew that Gerwald never sent him after a target that he wanted to keep alive. In this he would always have sustenance. The wolf was counting on the fact the predator still had enough of his faculties left to make this easy.

 

[Oleander Webb]

TAG: Gerwald Lechner

A chuckle, lacking in warmth, crept over the area like a thin blanket. "You think you could stop me? I am bound to you no longer."

In another lifetime, Death would've taken the order with due obedience. In yet another life, he would've waxed poetically about how death could not be bound to one area and how he as its avatar was bound by laws of nature rather than the wolf's decree. In this lifetime and all its current twists and turns, Oleander lay somewhere between the latter sentiment and the singular wish to fill his belly.

Becoming synonymous with death had its benefits - great boons that had made the already accomplished assassin nigh-unstoppable. Those boons had come at a cost. The already pervasive hunger that robbed many an Anzat of their minds struck with a vengeance the moment Oleander's discipline had waned. And now, faced with a potential return to structure, he wasn't sure he wanted to return to a life from before.

"An interesting proposal. Counter to that, though," he moved with reflexes expected of one of his position, aiming to grasp his old employer by the throat. The proboscises that made him the killer he was were already writhing outside of their usual hidden pouches, searching for the next bout of soup. "This place suits me just fine. It's brought me you, after all."

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
WEAPONS: Wolfsbane | Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
TAG: Oleander Webb

Gerwald scoffed at the idea Oleander seemed to be insinuating. Yes, there was always a chance the hunter had grown in power beyond the master, but the wolf doubted it. A rational Oleander may have been able to claim enough skill to overcome the beast and steal his life force, but this Oleander was driven by an insatiable hunger. This one would be sloppy. It made him dangerous, but it did not make him powerful. The matter was simple. Where some may see the complication of wanting to keep him alive, Gerwald knew better.

If Oleander forced the situation to him or the wolf, Gerwald would kill the predator.

"It did not bring me here to feed on," he said.

Oleander should have known well enough that Gerwald meant those words.

Blue eyes watched as the probices danced about in the open. He did nothing to hide what he was, and it was clear the insanity of the feed had taken his mind. Gerwald hoped the Anzat was not too far gone, after all he had always been useful to the wolf. They could not say either of them held any special affection or friendship toward the other, but they did have an understanding.

He sighed.

"I don't want to kill you today, but I will if you force the issue. My proposal is the only merciful one you will find on Jutrand among the Sith."

Gerwald dared a step closer.

"If you wish to prolong your life, you'll take the offer."

 

[Oleander Webb]

TAG: Gerwald Lechner

"We shall see."

For a brief moment, Oleander could almost acknowledge the poetic turn of the apprentice taking on their master. There might've been an argument for such sentiments, once, or in another's eyes. But in Oleander's lackluster vision, he saw an employer, a fraction of his age, a fraction made even smaller by the piece of him that housed Death itself. Lessons had come with that employment, sure, as did a measly taste of purpose, a hint of belonging.

And with that, had come betrayal. Such was the cyclical nature of things, with anything and everything one day coming to an end. The end of one era, the start of a new, he was no stranger to either.

"You think I fear the Sith?"​

It was his turn to scoff. The shadows around him darkened, drawing to their master. It was a trick Gerwald had introduced to him, way back when. One that Death perfected. His lightsaber, long forgotten but still comfortable in his cold grip, snapped to his hand. The merciful thing to do would be to overwhelm Gerwald's senses, render him dazed in a memory as Oleander drank his fill. Oleander wasn't feeling merciful, not really. Still, it'd be a waste not to follow the path his instincts so vehemently laid out before him.

"I've no one to fear. And neither will you, wolf, soon."​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
WEAPONS: Wolfsbane | Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
TAG: Oleander Webb

The challenge was clear. Oleander called his saber to hand, and the wolf did the same. If he wanted to fight his former master, Gerwald would oblige. The outcome would be the same regardless. The Anzat was going to return to work for the Lupo. There was no other choice to be had which would allow the creature to keep his life. Gerwald would make that clear.

A snap and hiss screeched through the alley. He would not wait for the pupil to try and take the upper hand.

"And you know whom I fear?"

Gerwald brought the blade up to the ready stance the wolf often assumed in combat. His expression was stiff, the man was ready to do what needed to be done.

"Attack me or don't, but either way, you're working for me again or dying. Decide."

 

[Oleander Webb]

TAG: Gerwald Lechner

"I know who you should."

The gentle hum of his lightsaber was a near silent harmony to that of Gerwald's, just as it's blade cast a fraction of the light. An untrained gaze might assume he wielded a nonfunctional hilt and the power of imagination (or delusion). Those who'd seen him work before would know better.

The near transparent blade swept for a leg before redirecting to the opposite arm as the Anzati set a grueling albeit simple pace. Bladed combat held a place of convenience rather than fondness in his heart. It was a means to an end, a distraction. When the moment struck him, his free hand which had been kept close to his person, wrenched upwards dragging with it the very shadows themselves. The move was meant to throw his opponent off balance, so he could close with deadly precision.

His instincts echoed against his skull, beckoning him to finish the fight as soon as possible, to consume. And he would, one way or another. It was up to the wolf how many pieces he'd be found in.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
WEAPONS: Wolfsbane | Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
TAG: Oleander Webb

The secret of Oleander’s blade was one Gerwald knew. It was why the anzat employed other deceptions in their battle. It was like Oleander to misdirect. Gerwald needed him for that exact reason. The days when his shadow would be used for the tasks the wolf could not be seen doing publicly were gone. Rather the shadow would serve a different purpose. He would both distract from Gerwald’s true movements, and extend the reach of the Dark Councilor beyond physical limitations.

Gerwald stepped back. It allowed him the chance to deflect the second attack, the primary maneuver, of his opponent. Oleander would need to try harder if he wished for the wolf to fall for such things.

His mind harkened back to the day Gerwald had recruited the monster. He had tracked Oleander to a cave, and there they fought in the dark. More light filled the alleyway than the hovel they had first fought in. The wolf had won the service of the anzat then, he would win it now. Gerwald was more in tune with the dark side now. He no longer hid behind the claim of balance in all things to stay his hand.

With their blades locked, Gerwald stepped into the attack. His forehead came crashing down onto Oleander. His hope would be to crush the nose of the monster. If he could make the man bleed, or at least cause his eyes to tear up and water, the wolf would have the upper hand. All he needed to do was prove he was still the stronger of the two. The anzat needed to remember that he feasted better on Gerwald’s leash than he did off of it.

 

[Oleander Webb]

TAG: Gerwald Lechner

With blades locked, Oleander's lips spread to a cruel grin. He could practically taste the soup that would surely keep his belly full for weeks if he was sensible, a day or two in his current state (with a couple snacks in between).

The frenzy that guided him realized too late that Gerwald's approach was with intention, not a byproduct of the sirens song that was Anzati mentalism. The blow of skull crashing on skull saw him staggering back a step, shifting to the defensive. His ears rang, vision threatening to go fuzzy.

He should've expected such a move, animalistic as it was, from the Lupo. He thought back to the hunting trip the two had taken once, shortly before the Confederacy became no more. Gerwald had declared him under his tutelage and gave him the first lesson in manipulating the shadows as Oleander did now. That tutelage seemed doomed from the start as contact with Gerwald had ceased shortly after.

Had Oleander had his wits about him, he would've been gone, returned to the shadows before striking again not unlike a viper. The Waking Nightmare instead snarled, his head pounding from the knot he could already feel starting to form. A clawed hand loosened it's grip on the shadows, closing into a fist and tearing chunks of duracrete, flinging the debris at his would-be teacher as he shook off the creeping fuzz that sought to claim his vision.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
WEAPONS: Wolfsbane | Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
TAG: Oleander Webb

Gerwald cut through the duracrete with his blade as it was sent on a collision course with his head. Oleander was not playing, but neither was the Wolf. If his former student sought to end his life, Gerwald would demand the anzat pay with his own. This was not a game the two would keep up. Either he would come to heel and return to his service to the executioner, which was his duty, or he would die.

Every attack the anzat sent Gerwald’s way was stepped into. The Wolf would not show any signs of backing down or relenting.

“You’re fortunate I didn’t slice through your probices.”

Was Gerwald bargaining that he could, or warning the creature? The answer to the question did not matter. Gerwald simply wanted the Anzat to know one thing. He was not fighting him at full strength or power. The frenzied need to feed which Oleander found himself under did not require Gerwald’s strength, not when the insatiable desire to consume was taking its toll on the monster.

He grinned.

“Relent… I have better feeding for you. Another way to satisfy your cravings.”

Was it enough to entice, or would Oleander run back to the shadows?

 

[Oleander Webb]

TAG: Gerwald Lechner

A maddened scowl pulled at his features as the wolf pressed further. Normally it was Oleander throwing personal space to the wind, now he found himself falling back. His vision was seldom necessary for a hunt but with a prize such as Gerwald, any disadvantage could be deadly.

"And you're fortunate I haven't torn you limb from limb."

A distant - very distant - part of him was insulted, to think all that was offered to him was different feeding grounds, like that was truly all there was to the Anzat. Admittedly, the frenzied state would indeed suggest as such. Still, time spent amongst the waking world had at one point encouraged him to consider other interests, hobbies. The opportunities to pursue them had vanished with the Confederacy, something a more balanced individual may even claim Oleander mourned in his own way.

A shadow-wielding claw swiped at the wolf, shadows extending from the appendage in the form of a scythe, a more literal representation of the mantle he'd taken on as death. The range granted to him by the weapon allowed for a tad more maneuverability, putting another half meter of distance between the two combatants as he gathered himself, backing nearly into the alley wall behind him.

"You'll have to do better than that."

His boot pushed back against the wall, using it as a launching point, adding some height to his next assault. Both scythe and saber slashed in a cross-section, seeking to rid Gerwald's arm from its shoulder and opposite leg from the hip.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
WEAPONS: Wolfsbane | Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
TAG: Oleander Webb

He had to do better? So the monster was human also. The feeding frenzy did not have a complete hold on the Anzat which made Gerwald almost feel guilty by promising better feeding grounds. Part of him knew better than to reduce it to something so simple, but if his hunger had been overpowering him then it would have been a safe bet. Perhaps that was too easy a thing and an insult.

Gerwald did not care in the end. It gave him an advantage.

Oleander’s hand produced another weapon. It was a thing of shadow, and it made the wolf smile. He had taught the creature well, and it seemed he had not forgotten how to manipulate the shadows in deeper ways. Gerwald had not taught the man much before Naboo had seen its calamity, but what he had taught the anzat was something to be proud of.

Speed was something the monster had in abundance. Gerwald knew that from the last encounter when they had fought. Lightsaber clashed with lightsaber, but the other weapon required the wolf to show his agility. He cursed as he contorted in a ways that should not have been natural for a man his size, but Oleander left him with no choice.

As he stood, the wolf pressed his hand outward and released a blast of force energy into Oleander’s gut. They were close, in proximity, if Oleander could defend himself from what Gerwald had done it would be a surprise. He hoped this would stop the anzat long enough to allow the conversation to continue.

“Then stop and listen.”

 

[Oleander Webb]

TAG: Gerwald Lechner

Pale eyes narrowed in deadly concentration as he wielded the scythe with his off hand. Being made of shadows did wanders for balance but it's size was still an adjustment. The reach was a bane just as much as it was a boon.

So focused on his assault, the wave of energy to his midsection hit him full, well, force. A pained hiss escaped through clenched teeth as the back of his head collided with hard wall. Now he really was seeing stars, the hunt incarnate being slowed when rising to his feet.

"Listen?" He echoed with a bark of a laugh. "No, you listen. I am no pet to be fed and discarded." His voice rose as he spoke, a volume he almost never reached, favoring telepathy and the dread of a collected quiet. But Gerwald didn't deserve his quiet. Not after years of service ending in radio silence.

A rational Oleander would recognize the blame didn't lie solely on Gerwald's shoulders. There were many of the Confederacy he doubted had been lost, none of which ever attempted (to his knowledge) to find him. But Gerwald was meant to be his mentor, by the Lupine's very own declaration. And now? After years of silence he's summoned for a reunion, just to be told it was time to return to work?

No.

He was beholden to noone. Death's scythe sunk back into his arm and as it did so, the shadows around his form darkened still. From them, wisps that were somewhere between thorns and chains rose in a serpentine fashion, moving to ensnare his former employer, mentor, maybe even former friend.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
WEAPONS: Wolfsbane | Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
TAG: Oleander Webb

Their battle was not physical, though it manifested as such. Oleander was wounded before he was sent flying into a wall. They had not crossed paths by chance. The feeding frenzy may have been a random act, but the Wolf had sought him out. Gerwald knew the source of what was happening in Jutrand was the work of an Anzat, and he had hoped it was Oleander. The Force would not allow them to stay away from each other for too long. He just hoped this meeting would not end like the last time he met with another former pupil.

Gerwald had to ensure it did not.

“Discarded? Do you think that is what I did? Fed you morsels to keep you loyal only to cast you aside when I no longer needed you?"

The Wolf powered down his lightsaber, though his hammer was close if needed.

“You were not there when the cataclysm hit Naboo. You did not follow when the others fled. I did not find you among the Sith when I came here. Do you think I have replaced you? You are no fool Oleander. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

Tough love it was. Another blast of energy was sent careening into the anzat. It would be enough to knock him out. If the creature would not leave with the Wolf willingly he would be dragged out forcefully.

***********​

Oleander would wake up in a loft apartment. It was in the same tower Gerwald lived in. He could not risk the anzat going on a feeding spree without the Wolf being near. Most of the domicile was a blank slate. It had been vacant for some time, and several other units like it remained unoccupied as well. Gerwald knew he would never advance without those he trusted. Despite their tumultuous relationship, Oleander was among those the Wolf considered to be trustworthy.

Gerwald waited for him to wake up. It was a different scene altogether. There were no shadows for the creature to hide in. It was not the cave they had fought in on their first meeting. This was not the alleyway Oleander had turned into a feeding ground.

It was human.

Spoiler: ooc note

Action taken with permission of Oleander's writer

 

[Oleander Webb]

TAG: Gerwald Lechner

The frenzy of the hunt was replaced with something more rare for the Anzat. After years of training and decades, if not centuries, in the field, Oleander had become known for his cool professionalism. Now, his blood boiled, his thoughts of strategy faded to the back of his mind while the urge to rip asunder overtook him. Rage.

"Oh, I was on Naboo. Maybe you would've noticed if you had your head out of your-"

***********​

As he slowly started to come to, the first thing Oleander noticed was he was in a new location. Then came the hunger and the hard-to-ignore awareness that there was only one source of soup in close proximity. The target of this previous hunt, the one who'd managed to best Death given form. But he was still alive, so perhaps 'best' wasn't quite accurate, yet.

He remained utterly still for some time, taking stock of his surroundings though his eyes remained closed and breathing steady. His head pounded on all sides from the numerous collisions in their bout. The warmth of the sun shining on his pale flesh was a nuisance, especially as a beam poured its rays on his face. What was an even bigger nuisance was the fact that he seemed to be in unknown surroundings. He could poke and prod with his senses all he wanted, they would do little to help without him taking a more active route.

In a flash, he shot up from his position, aiming for his former employer's throat with a cold hand. Another wave of pounding rose over his skull with the sudden movement, causing him to stumble. "What did you do to me?" he hissed, voice hoarse as a pang of hunger resonated in his senses.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
WEAPONS: Wolfsbane | Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
TAG: Oleander Webb

"I hit you over the head… with the force…" Gerwald smirked with the answer. "You would have killed me otherwise."

It was a fact. The Wolf knew what the Anzat had wanted. From the moment they had met the underlying desire of the creature was to feast on the Beast's brain. They're understanding had been more than keeping the Anzat busy so Gerwald could have his service. It was based on a much more simple transaction than that. The Wolf kept Oleander full so he wouldn't kill him.

It was a matter of survival.

Gerwald waved his index finger back and forth in a scolding fashion.

"You likely have a concussion, and I'm not going to let you feed to recover while you're still angry with me. Neither of us want to die, and we've always worked well together."

His eyes locked onto his apprentice.

"I would like to renegotiate our original agreement. Make it better."

Gerwald leaned back in his chair.

"Are you willing to listen now?"