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You Saw Nothing

WINTER WOLF
Character
The events of Dragonflower had been interesting. What had been a moment to experience a free run had ended in disasterous embarrassment for the giant wolf of a man known as Gerwald Lechner. In his eagerness to run he had transformed before removing his pants, and they were torn beyond use. That would not have been a problem save for the fact [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] had done the same and stolen her shirt to cover herself.

When it came time to transform Gerwald was left with nothing to wear in the presence of the two women who had been with him. The nightmother had not been the only one running through the woods. [member="Scherezade deWinter"] had been with them as well, and while there was something ancient about her, she also appeared to be young… too young for the giant to not feel some extreme level of embarrassment that she had seen every detail of his body.

While the witches seemed to have little regard for a lack of clothing, in fact they seemed more comfortable nude than clothed, Gerwald was raised by parents that enforced certain rules of modesty and decorum. He was usually careful, as a Lupine he had to be, and in this case the thrill had caught him off guard.

It was a nice evening, too nice to keep up the avoidance that had been his pattern for the past week. The fire called to him, the clear sky, even the slight chill on the air pulled him out of his lodging. He had yet to join the Knights Obsidian in their accommodations. While he was one of them he felt more at home closer to where the witches camped. The realization of the Lupines had been a stronger pull to him.

Tonight he made sure he was fully clothed. Gerwald was dressed to remain warm, but more importantly, not be seen naked. This was a chance to get to know people who were not from Stewjon more than he had already done so. Gerwald had left the planet to discover who he really was, and what the galaxy could offer. The more he thought about it the more he realized Stewjon had been a prison of sorts for him.

He sat on a log near the fire. A mug of ale was in his hand. He took a long drink from it and as it was sat next to him his eyes caught a glimpse of Scherezade. She was there. He sighed as he tried to not avoid her, but also not be seen. It was hopeless because of how large he was, but Gerwald could try. He was still embarrassed.
 
The fire danced, and the young woman danced along with it. It had been four months since Katrine freed her from the pebble prison that had held her for centuries, and she had gone the full circle from being a shy wallflower to a weapon to be reckoned with, to realizing just how much more damage she could cause in this little galaxy. Tonight, though she had not shared it with anyone or spoken the words out loud, tonight, marked exactly four months, to the day. And she was free.

And dance she did, doing circles around the fire, caring not who saw her, who stared, who was even around. It was not a dance of seduction, though hips moved in circles and hands touched certain body parts from time to time; it was, instead, a dance that celebrated freedom, that celebrated lack of confinement, that celebrated chaos and violence and damage, and innocence, all at once. There was no music, but the young Sithling danced to the beat of her own drum, occasionally releasing an Arrow of Fire into the fire, letting the firy cackles grow and spread. She did not fear the heat. And since heat could not get runny chits from drinking contaminated water, the fire did not fear her. And yet, they moved together in a magnificent dance of power.

It could have been minutes, or hours or days; she did not feel the flow of time in her current state. But eventually, she had to force herself to stop. Even her body signaled by now that this could not go on forever.

Emerald green eyes snapped open and took her surroundings in, the soft green light emanating from them, going to wherever she looked.

And naturally, because he was not going to get a lucky break today, her gaze landed directly on [member="Gerwald Lechner"]. Eyebrows tried to push against each other as she tried to gain a sense of his emotions through the Force, and a moment later she was seated next to him on the log.

"You're very dressed tonight," she commented with a chuckle. If there was any embarrassment about what had happened on Dragonflower, she did not show it. But there wasn't, anyway, "but your body language indicates a strong desire to become... A mouse." She knew all about that. And not only because a few decorated descriptions of mice had been tossed towards her in these past few months. "It's a night of freedom and joy. You currently omit neither. Trade you a trauma for a trauma if you tell me why," she added with an ear to ear grin.
 
WINTER WOLF
Character
A trauma for a trauma, she was certainly reaching if she thought his desire to be a mouse was anything other than the fact she had seen him fully nude. He tried to chuckle, and managed something a long the lines of one, but in reality he had been caught with his pants down, literally. It was something he usually kept pride in not happening. He had lived on Stewjon for years with the ability to change into a wolf, and no one had been any wiser. How had he allowed a moment of excitement and freedom to get the better of him.

He knew how, but refused to speak it.

A sigh lifted from his chest, and carried some unknown burden away with it.

"Freedom and joy is it? I am afraid that is something I am still learning," he said honestly.

The mug of ale came to his lips as his eyes looked intently into the flame. She wanted a trauma, but the truth was until Katrine had arrived on Stewjon, and the Confederacy with her, Gerwald had been ignorant to much of life beyond Stewjon, and certainly that he was not alone in the galaxy. His mother had been wrong. Their family was not the last of the Lupines. There was another family, and one much large than his own. Being away from Stewjon was freedom, but the trauma the real trauma, was that Gerwald did not know what to do with it.

"Life on Stewjon was exceedingly simple. Aside from the night terrors the Confederacy helped to save us from, I cannot think of anything that would fit the word traumatic. I suppose you could say knowing I am something more than I was ever allowed to be could fit that. My life as I knew it was a prison in its own right, but I am much to new to the idea to know what to do with it."

He finally turned and let his crystal clear eyes look at [member="Scherezade deWinter"]. A small smirk tugged at his lip finally being able to laugh at their earlier predicament for whatever strange reason. Perhaps just seeing her again, so carefree, was enough to make him realize how childish his avoidance had been.

"The last time I was so carefree, you and Katrine got more of an eye full than you bargained for. Could you imagine what would happen if I embraced it completely.... Oh the horror!"

At the last his tone was sarcastic and genuinely playful. She was still young, but her freedom was contagious.
 
She stared at him as he spoke, her eyes fixed on his face. Not a single cackle of the fire could have drawn her attention away just then. She knew the joys of a simple life; hers had been one, on Endelaan. But simple lives rarely lasted. And whereas he considered his to be a form of a prison, hers had been a celebration of freedom instead. He didn't know what to do with his newfound freedom. She herself, had already decided for her own sake. But that was not a decision someone else could make for him.

"The horror?" she asked, her sight still unmoving. He laughed, though it seemed the joke was entirely lost on her at that moment, "first of all, neither Katrine nor myself have actual issues with nudity. Not even the male nudity. And especially not when it's clear as day that the owner of said nudity takes amazing care of his physique."

A technicality, anyway. She had never actually seen a grown male naked. But it didn't matter. Men, women, whatever, they all had skin, and they all needed to be aired from time to time. The social codes that decreed shame ought to be involved in that process had been tossed into dead space long ago by her.

Scherezade jumped from the log then, holding a hand out to [member="Gerwald Lechner"], motioning for him to take it, "second," she added, "you've been sitting here curled into yourself for long enough. You're not on Stewjon anymore, and you can totally embrace it. Completely. I'm sure there's a lot of reasons you decided to venture away, but I'm eve more sure that none of those reasons were so that your life would go on the same way it started over there."

Her other hand, she motioned with to the side. A branch broke itself off a tree and flew straight into her hand. She began to tap it against her thigh, giving off a beat. It was awkward at first, as she needed a few attempts to get the right rhythm, but there it was.

"Close your eyes and let go. Dance. Turn into a pupper and wag your tail if that's what you feel like doing. But let go. Confinement is a death sentence to whatever lurks behind those blue eyes of yours."
 
WINTER WOLF
Character
"It was a joke... I was making a joke," Gerwald explained as Schezerade continued to tell him about how she and Katrine were not bothered by nudity. Ger had already figured that one out, so the explanation was not needed, especially the flattery. He knew he took care of himself, but it was for him, and not for the off chance he would be seen naked. Though she did have a point. Gerwald simply held to the seemingly universal standard that parts were meant to covered. It had already been challenged, and the girl was challenging it again. Gerwald simply shrugged.

A hand was offered to him with the clear intent that it was meant to be taken. There seemed to be no point in arguing with [member="Scherezade deWinter"], so Gerwald took it and stood to his full height. Perhaps he had been sitting there longer than he thought originally. His legs tingled slightly as the blood through his veins. His free hand scratched his thigh to no relief, just an involuntary reaction to the sensation.

"DANCE!!! Girl, I do not have enough ale in me for that. Large men like me are not born with rhythm."

He knew there was no sense in telling her no, but he had to try. Gerwald was not a dancer, a fighter, a warrior, a killer, he was all of those things, but he was not a dancer. He understood that she wanted him to do what would make him happy and free, and thus far all he did was sit and drink. He sighed and shrugged.

"Fine... we will have it your way, but when we are done dancing, then we go hunting!
 
"There's more ale if you need it, though I've heard whiskey is stronger," she said with another smile, her toe leaving no place to consider her acceptance of rejection. She wanted him to dance and he was going to dance, even if at gun point. His size did not intimidate her. She was close enough to him in height, and almost everyone in her family was tall as well. There were no human (or human-like) giants that could scare her.

And then he said they'd dance... And hunt!

She jumped in her place with excitement at that statement. Hunting led to killing. Killing required violence. Violence was her hobby, her passion, and her job. Especially mingled with chaotic destruction.

First though, there was dancing to attend. Her movements were free as she closed the distance between them, her stick tapping the beat against her thigh without pause. If Gerwald wasn't deaf, he could easily notice that she was no musician of any sorts, and couldn't keep a steady beat at any point. But that wasn't what she wanted to focus on anyway.

She giggled, launching forward and backwards. Usually the man had to lead, but this wasn't the man to lead her, and this wasn't the leading kind of dance. This was freedom of the limbs, movement that mostly expressed the person had no ducks to give.

Scherezade turned around, taking a few moments to dance in her own world. Her body moved pretty much without any grace at this point, but it didn't matter. She'd learn how to properly dance at some point in the future. Now... It just wasn't important enough.

What was important though, was the hunt.

As she danced, she moved her arms above her head, bringing them down again, letting the Czerka knife slip from her sleeve into the palm of her hand. The moment her finger closed around the familiar hilt she turned around and launched at [member="Gerwald Lechner"].

If he would not move in time, she would land against his chest, with the point of her knife against his Adam's Apple. She had no intention of actually stabbing him, but that was hardly the point.

If he did move in time though...

They were going to have so much fun!
 
WINTER WOLF
Character
"Whiskey is stronger and makes it easier to get someone drunk... are you trying to take advantage of me," he teased allowing for some humor in the moment. Yes, it may have been dry, or even inappropriate for someone her age compared to his, but Gerwald was told to be free.

Her dancing made no sense, a relief to him actually because his would not either. He could hear her tapping out the beat against her thigh, but it was slightly off. Gerwald simply moved, mainly a few steps from side to side, nothing fancy or purposefully filled with flair. [member="Scherezade deWinter"] should consider any movement from him a victory and be satisfied, but he had a feeling she was not the easy sort to please. Whether she was used to having her way, or simply a little demanding, Gerwald was not blind to the confidence she had. It was truly enviable.

She moved closer then away, Gerwald simply moved. He had not been wrong about having no rhythm, but he was at least dancing. HIs eyes caught something else though, a blade which emerged from the the girl's sleeve. her hand wrapped around the grip, and a certain look was in her eyes. They were filled with mischief and utter joy at the thought of what she was about to do.

Schezerade lunged at him.

Now Gerwald danced with a flourish.

Yes he was a larger man, but he was not made of stone. Even in his human form he was agile, and while a side step would have been enough, Gerwald spun around and out of the reach of the blade. His right hand came down hoping to catch the wrist of the girl, and were he successful Gerwald would spin her toward him. This was a dance after all, and partners often did such things.
 
She spun all right.

A surprised yelp came from the young Sithling as she did so, landing with her chest pressed to his. If he could feel through her clothes, he would easily know that there was no armor lurking beneath the pink top, but rather a deadly assortment of knives. She was armed to the teeth, almost literally. The knife in her right hand, the hand whose wrist he had caught, was angled and ready to stab him in the shoulder. Maybe even fly towards the jugular vein if she could calculate the amount of Force needed to do it that way.

Instead, her legs moved of their own accord.

81.gif

Scherezade's eyes widened, the surprise at this happening at all registering wide open on her face. She did not know she could do that. She was not supposed to know how to do that. Which could only mean...

"Frack off, grandma!" the young woman yelled.

Her eyes ran back up, meeting [member="Gerwald Lechner"] 's gaze. He had grabbed one of her wrists all right. And still held it. But her other hand was free, and another knife slid from her sleeve into her free palm and she moved, aiming it for his nostrils.
 
WINTER WOLF
Character
Gerwald smirked when the girl yelped. He had caught her off guard which was a good thing as far as he could estimate. It was fortunate he knew she was playing with him otherwise he would not have spun her. Ger had a very high survival instinct, the wolf in him would not let him die if he could help it.

For a brief moment they were close to each other. Their chests touched and where a woman should be soft, [member="Scherezade deWinter"] was clearly armed. Ger could feel the weapons beneath her top as his sweater was not so thick that he could not feel through it. He smirked again, keeping an eye on her. The curse caught him off guard.

"Do I have to worry about your grandmother trying to get fresh with me," he asked prying a little to understand more about what had just happened.

An answer would have to wait as the girl attempted to stab him again, this time she aimed for his nose. Gerwald took a step back and lifted the wrist held as he moved to catch the other wrist as well. Their bodies would be touching again if he succeeded, facing each and close enough to be familiar with each other's scent. He took in a deep breath as he attempted to wrestle the blades free from her hands.

"I am not the prey," he grinned as his eyes briefly darted toward the borders of where the glow of the campfire could not reach. "Our prey is out there, but answer one question. Man or wolf?"
 
"My grandmother is pretending to be dead," she gave the shorted reply she could in order to describe a very messy situation, "though she generally prefers men twice her age or more and oh my Force I really did not need to know that. Don't ask me about her, I'm going to have an answer for everything."

... In hindsight, maybe that could've made it worse.

He had both her wrists now, holding them high. He wasn't much taller than she was, but sufficiently taller for her arms to be slightly stretched above her head. She grinned, letting herself lean against him with all of her weight. Pound of muscle for pound of muscle, only an idiot would not know that he was far stronger than her when it came to physical power. And yet, he was not using his full strength on her as he tried to wrestle the knives out of her hands. If she'd had taken a moment to think it through, she probably would've realized he wasn't even using half of it.

But in the moment, they were dancing, feet inching back and forth as the wrestling resumed. There was something raw about it, something that called to the Force within her and tickled her beneath her skin. She gasped, trying to stab him while he held her wrists again, and obviously failed. His scent was almost intoxicating at that point - she could smell the wild on him, the forests, the freedom of outdoors. How could a man that smell of those things need guidance in letting go?

A distraction - he provided it. As he spoke of prey, the knives that were not so discreetly hiding on her back slid out of their hiding place. Four of them, as she controlled them with the Force, raising them into the air to open up like a fan, pointy bits all pointing at [member="Gerwald Lechner"]. She was a Sithling. An unorthodox one that preferred to rely on her skills and training without the Force, but a Sithling nonetheless, and she did not need her wrists in order to be deadly with a knife.

He asked the question - and she looked up to the sky, baring her neck as she laughed.

When her gaze returned to his, she had only one possible answer.

"Yourself."
 
WINTER WOLF
Character
He could have asked more about this grandmother, but the reply had been enough to ensure him that he needed to let it rest for now. The dance was her focus, and it was his. They were playing with each other, testing one another, and Gerwald had to admit that he enjoyed it. She commanded it from him, drew it out of him. Caution had been preached to him for so long that he had lost sight of the predator which longed to be free, a predator that refused to be confined by the exhortation of a mother that was no longer present.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"] was not one to lose. As the blades floated from her back as if they willed themselves to do it, Gerwald knew she had taken what she wanted. They threatened him, but did not move to overtake him. He had already observed her intention was not to harm him. Her answer to his question did not surprise him either.

"Yourself."

This time he nodded. Ger said nothing as he released her wrists, taking in one last whiff of her scent which was so different than the other women he knew from Stewjon. The vest he wore over the sweater slipped off his shoulders as he tossed it onto the log, the sweater as well. Gerwald only hunted as a human when others were present on Stewjon to keep his secret, but Scherezade already knew it. She had already seen him naked. What would it matter if she saw the wolf. It wanted to be free, it wanted to hunt. Gerwald wanted to let it, and he wanted to be wild.

"Let's see what we find," he said as he ran past her toward the darkness.

A howl escaped him as he began to change. Bones cracked and popped as he leaped through the air and into the darkness. He had wreaked another pair of pants, but this time it gave him no mind. The wolf was free, the pads of his paws landing on the ground as he darted toward edge of the camp. His tail wagged as his nose stretched out toward the wilds searching for something that would satisfy his pallet. When Schezerade would find him, he would be waiting for her exactly as he was. The predator was free, and he had a direction for them.
 
Himself was a wolf, and there was freedom in his change into one. Scherezade grinned as she looked, her floating knives making their way back to underneath her shirt as they were, the knives that were in her hands going back up the sleeves. When Gerwald broke into a tail wagging run, there was little she wanted to do other than put chase to him and follow.

She herself was not a skin changer, and could turn into nothing other than the form that was always presented by her. But she had her own freedom, and she laughed as she ran, the wind flowing by her ears, the cricket sounds of the night that she only noticed now accompanying this run.

It didn't take too long for her to reach [member="Gerwald Lechner"] and she came to a stop by his side, crouching low. She was wearing colors bright enough to stand out, and she wished to minimize her apparent presence in case whatever it was they were hunting would catch the soft spot of pink in the darkness.

Hey, am I allowed to scratch you behind the ears when you're in wolf form? she asked, using Force Telepathy.

Her hands came forward and she flattened them against the grass, trying to get a beat from the soil or vibrations of movements that did not come from the two of them.
 
WINTER WOLF
Character
Himself wasn't a wolf, but the wolf was part of him. It was an odd thing to come to terms with at first, but Gerwald was both human and wolf, he was a Lupine. The change had come at an age where could still remember how much it hurt. Now it was something he was used to. He had changed enough times that it was a commonplace thing for his body experience. When he was younger he hated to change, but there were nights the wolf would force itself out. Gerwald was only becoming more accustomed to who he was the older he became. The Lupine could use the Force, and that was another part of who he was. Before the night was over [member="Scherezade deWinter"] would see as a human again, though this time hopefully not as embarrassed. The hunt always drew out the predator in him.

The wolf looked at the girl with a confused look as her telepathy came to his mind. He couldn't answer, Gerwald hadn't learned how to do that yet. Gerwald wasn't a puppy, but it seemed the girl simply saw a pet. Scratch behind his hears when he was a wolf? Ger whined slightly as his nose and snout twitched to the right. Something was on the air.

He froze for a moment. The scent was moving. Was it something they could hunt? Was the beast large? Whatever it was it had Gerwald's interest. Paws moved lightly into the night forest of Ryloth. These woods contained many things which would make Gerwald prey, but he had no fear. It was a strength and weakness with him. As long as his life did not feel threatened, Gerwald was fearless. Could Schezerade sense whatever it was?

The night air smelled of the forest now, but the enhanced sense of smell Gerwald had as a lupine caused him to distinguish what made up the entire smell. To a human it was one thing, but to Gerwald it was the soil, the trees, the moisture, the insects, animal dens, excrement, life, and death.

Glowing night eyes looked to the girl, his mouth curling into as much of a smile he could manage as a wolf. Something was ahead of them, and he wanted her to follow as he stalked it through the forest.
 
"I don't understand Wolf-speak," Scherezade said with a grin as she watched Ger's reactions. She wasn't sure whether the sounds were yes or no, and when he pointed a paw in a direction, she at least managed to successfully deduct that this was about their prey.

She looked towards the direction he had motioned to, allowing her sense to spread through the Force. She was a predator by her own right, but she was still learning, still training. She could sense life in miles in every direction, but without knowing what to focus on, she couldn't agree or make a relevant witty comment.

Scherezade returned her gaze to [member="Gerwald Lechner"] 's face. Was that a smile? She wasn't sure. Her mother knew everything there was to know about animal behavior, but sadly, her grandmother had made a point of not knowing, so the information was not among the tons of things stored in her head that she still didn't know about..

A wicked smile suddenly appeared on her face.

"You're the wolfie-boss," she said with a firm nod.

A moment later, she was sitting on top of Gerwald, her legs folded so they wouldn't hit the ground, her upper body flattened against his so she would't be a hindrance to his speed beyond the magical 160 pounds suddenly added on top of his back.

She didn't scratch him behind his ears.

Instead, she just whispered with delicious wickedness.

"Dracarys!"
 
WINTER WOLF
Character
Gerwald did not recognize the command, but as soon as he felt [member="Scherezade deWinter"] was secure, the wolf took off into a fast run. His legs barely noticed the added weight as he was a strong wolf, though he was certain it would be noticed the longer he ran. Another howl left his throat as they neared the forest aware that he could not just leap through tree and bushes as he normally world without someone on his back. There had been no hesitation to let her climb on his back either. For some reason he trusted her. If that was a mistake it would come to light, but for now the thrill of the hunt had captured them both.

Everything on Ryloth seemed to have sharp teeth and posed a danger, but Gerwald was even moreso in the moment. He was smart enough to avoid the Lylek, Doashim, and Jart, all beasts which could rip him to shreds with ease. His sights were set on a Rycrit. Many of the beasts were raised by the Twi'leks who were native to the planet, but there were also herds which ran wild. There must have been a grazing field or a safe watering hole in the forest because the scent overwhelmed him.

The muscles in his legs flexed and contracted as he ran through the woods, ignoring every distraction. When they neared the place the scent had carried him, Gerwald's movements slowed into a cautious stalking. Now he had to move into the thicket, and he hoped that Schezerade saw what he was about to do. Slowly he moved toward a large enough bush and overgrowth that would mask them from sight. Their scent, her scent, may not be masked that well, but if they were still and patient the weakest would come clear, and they could pounce.

His eyes settled on several Rycrift dipping to drink from the stream which flowed through the wood. The sound of it tickled his ears. His nose searched for the scent of anything that would compete with them tonight for the hunt, but the area was well hidden, and difficult for some of the larger predators to reach. This location was perfect for them, and if they wished to capture a few more on future hunts, they would wait to make their kill. Gerwald was very patient, to a point. The predator was eager for a kill, to sink his teeth in the throat of the animal that had become his focus.
 
Scherezade blinked at herself several times during [member="Gerwald Lechner"] 's run. She hadn't exactly thought things through before she got on his back, but if she had to be honest with herself, this was not what she would have imagined. She'd thought most of the ride would be spent keeping balance, holding on, being worried about slowing him down. But no - only now did she realize, riding on his back had a deliciously stench of freedom. His moves were natural; she didn't have to do anything except exist. The wind swept by her ears, and the smell of his fur engulfed her. For half a heart beat, she nearly howled with him before reminding herself that she was the guest and not the wolf.

It was a nearly intoxicating feeling.

The predators of Ryloth invoked no fear in her. Not tonight. Tonight the two of them were invincible, and they would be bathing in blood long before sunrise. She was still fresh in her training, but tonight, she felt incredibly powerful in more ways than one. And while she couldn't exactly mutually communicate with Gerwald, she had a tiny feeling that he would have agreed with the feeling, if she had put words to it.

But when she realized what their prey was...

Lofting a brow, she looked down at the back of Gerwald's head. He seemed to be waiting for something, and so she decided not to make a move. Getting off his back would cause noise; she wasn't sure she could properly levitate herself and remain that way. It was possible, theoretically, but she'd never actually done it before.

Nod your head twice when you need me to get off your back so you can attack, she silently sent to him, her right hand already moving to slide a blade out.
 
WINTER WOLF
Character
Gerwald nodded twice, but not because he needed to attack. He did need to be able to move when the time was right, but the rest of the herd needed to leave. Often the weak were the last to have water, and that was what Gerwald was waiting to find. Which one was the weakest?

He waited for Schezerade to get off his back, then moved into the thicket itself. Gerwald was not going to pounce until she was ready to move. Hopefully she would take his movement as a sign they were about to move. Part of him wanted to shift and tell her what he was thinking, but another part of him wondered if they would move as well together on the hunt as they had during their dance. Granted it had been a free moment where she would have stabbed him if he had not moved, but Gerwald knew they had moved well together. He would go for the throat, and her ready blade could finish the beast off with a sense of mercy. Gerwald did not hunt simply for the sake of destruction, but for food and sport.

The herd began to move on, and as Gerwald hoped one of the animals stayed behind to finish drinking. In his mind he counted to ten before leaping from the thicket. He was fast, agile, ferocious. Sharp teeth sank into the throat of the beast finding it's jugular. The iron taste of hot blood filled his mouth as Gerwalrd wrestled the beast to the ground exposing the kill for [member="Scherezade deWinter"]. He didn't know why he wanted to let her have it, but here it was. They had shared and tasted a form of freedom that to his knowledge no other Lupine had shared with a human before. She was helping him find out who he was, not the Stewjon native that was cautious, but the predator and warrior that longed to run free.

With the beast on the ground he waited. It would not move, but she had to be quick before the smell of blood made larger beasts want to attempt encroaching on their kill.
 
He'd nodded twice and she was ready, crouched on the grass next to him, the other hand already wielding another knives. There more under her clothes; more than just those he'd seen earlier, pointed at him as they danced. She had seen the lupine sprint before; this was the first time she had seen him go for prey. It was a nearly majestic sight, his movements taken in slow motion her mind. She saw every hair in the fur move beautifully, the dangerous jaws opening, and locking at the beast's throat. She didn't have enough words for "wow" in her vocabulary to describe it.

And the it stopped. It took her a moment to realize he was leaving the final kill to her.

He had shown himself to her, in all his glory. Now it was her turn to show him what she could be. She walked forward, closing the distance. Her body moved like a snake, smoothly and sure of itself. The glint in her eyes seemed to dance between danger and entertainment. And now she stood by them, her blade running across the animal's belly, splitting it into two, watching the inside fall out.

Scherezade jumped to the other side of the animal and forward, now standing next to its head. Strength was needed to raise it; these beasts were big and heavy. Aided by the Force though, it was not a challenge she would fail. She lifted the head in her bloody hands and gave it a sharp twist, finishing the animal's life in a split of a moment, and letting the head drop again as she danced a final time to the split belly.

Her knife made short word as she hacked and slashed inside, into the rib cage, and ripped the beast's heart out, managing to catch its two final beats.

On Endelaan, the heart was the most prized part of any food's death. To be offered it was to be granted a great honor. Endelaan had millennia of barbaric traditions, some of them incredibly so. But some of them were as much of a part of her as the Force was. She might have been granted the kill, but Gerlward was the one who had led them to it.

Only now did she look at the wolf, raising her gaze she they would be eye to eye, and her hand came forward, offering the warm organ to him.


[member="Gerwald Lechner"]
 
WINTER WOLF
Character
As soon as Schezerade moved in for the kill, Gerwald moved out of her way. The first strike to the belly would ensure the beast would not try to leave. They were bleeding it out. The force had been used to help her lift the beast, and the wolf watched in awe as the human demonstrated joy in the act. They were predators, both of them. The girl moved to the beast and began searching for something. Her hands dug into the beast as though she had done this many times before. It was an intriguing sight for someone so young to be so precise. There was a mystery about her that Gerwald wanted to solve, and solve it he would.

The heart was offered to him. His eyes moved from hers to the warm, bloody organ still in her hand.

Gerwald took a step back. Bones cracked and popped as he transformed back into his human form. This time there was no thought in his mind about the lack of clothing he had. He was a beast of a man, something he had proven tonight, a thing Schezerade had helped him embrace.

He stepped toward her and reached behind her to pull one of the blades he knew she carried. Quietly he took the organ in his hand and cut in half. The knife was tossed into a nearby tree for the moment and half of the organ was offered to the girl.

"We shared the kill, we share the first bite," he said unaware of the honor she was trying to give him. Had been more aware of her culture he would be even more insistent because of the freedom she had given him for the night. His hand remained extended until she took the heart. Gerwald was not going to take no for answer not matter how long he had to wait. They would eat together.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]
 
She had to fight herself to keep her jaw from dropping to the ground. How could he know? Did he even know? Her cheeks turned pale as half the heart was offered to her, her brain barely registering that he wasn't even in his wolf shape anymore. Not in a thousand years had she ever thought she would be made such an offer, not for many years to come, not anywhere that wasn't Endelaan or one of its people.

Her eyes moved from the warm dripping heart back to Gerwald and her vision blurred. It took more than a second for her to realize there were tears coming from them; her first tears since breaking free of her prison. Her hands shook as she accepted the heart and she worried she would drop it. But she didn't.

Never removing her gaze from his, Scherezade brought the heart close to her mouth and took a big healthy bite. Warm muscles were easy to tear even with human teeth - fresh muscles especially so. The coppery taste filled her mouth as blood vessels exploded, and a moan of pure delight escaped from her. There was an extacy to meat in all its forms, but raw, not even five minutes since the kill... How could people who did not understand this ever exist?

She looked at him again, only now realizing that she was staring into pale blue eyes. Human eyes. She wanted to say something as the two ate the heart of their prey.

But for the first time since she could remember, Scherezade was at a complete loss for words.

[member="Gerwald Lechner"]
 
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