estdeus_innobis | Is it so frightening to have me at your shoulder?

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dorian,
gaueko

Is it so frightening to have me at your shoulder?

[Saturday, December 12th, day 195]
[The woods outside town, close to midnight]

Little fucker's harder than I thought to track down. Whoever took him - and I have no doubt that he was taken, men fleeing pregnant girlfriends are never this good at covering their tracks - knew what they were doing. The four day lead they had didn't help. But this town has a limited number of areas where one could either burn a body (I frankly can't think of any other way to kill the bastard) or hold a man for nearly a week. All of them were empty. So either they loaded him up and took him far away, or they're keeping him at some place outside of town.

So I wander. As a dog and a shadow I wander the wind farm and slip between the trees. The night beasts and birds still when I approach, then begin their songs and their rummaging again. I am not hunting them. My nose is to the ground, and I am determined. Only the sun drives me to stop.

Even then, it's days before I catch the scene of sweat-fear-blood mingled with dirty silk and filth. It's a trace at first, but I follow it, zero in on that thin trickle of scent and track track track, deep into dog mind and the entire world narrows to that faint line threading its way through the grass...

The smell of blood gets stronger, and fresher even though it's dried. I can hear him now too; not even trying to hide himself. Didn't he learn what can happen to a man after dark?

Not moving fast either. Easy enough to step into shadow and leap out onto his path. And then I just sit and wait for him to notice me.

~~[OPEN to Dorian]~~
[CLOSED]

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After the blood lust washes over and away (and oh the countless miles that has taken me, fueled on anger alone) there is nothing left. Nothing at all for quite some time, my mind gone numb by the strange turn of events and the rest of my body quickly following suit. Wind and rain in the beginning, that first night of half-understood turns in the darkened woods. It was too familiar, at first, for anything at all to make it through, beyond that daze, and the first shreds of fear were promptly strangled, left for dead on the frozen ground.

Of course, that couldn't last forever. The first night behind me, the first wondrous sunrise that followed, and hope started to flare as I came back to myself, some of the dried blood washed away by the freezing rain. I thought it a sign, then. After the second day as well. Day after day and I finally lose track, like so many other times when time passes too quickly and there's no reason to tally the hours any longer. At some point there's the idea to sleep during the day, to move at night when the stars are out. I'd heard stories of sailors following the stars, making their way across miles to some distant shore... I would have been a horrible sailor.

It didn't help that the clouds rolled in almost as soon as the sun set, the moon barely a suggestion in the sky, and stayed firm for some stretch of time afterward. Yet more wind and yet more rain and snow, yes, snow. It started slow, that first white-washed night, some sensation that I couldn't name as the shivering began, my limbs spasming while I stumbled through the underbrush, vision swimming now and again. It's cold, no doubt about that, and I didn't even think to tie one thing to the other until after I fell for the first time. Fall, stand, fall again, and manage to crawl as that deep chill sank even deeper until it was warm. I thought to just close my eyes for a moment, a quick nap and nothing more and-

I suppose I never realized how cold it was until I died the first time, finally waking with the first few rays of the new day, body warming enough to bring me back. I did my best to be a bit more careful after that, though to say it didn't happen again would be a lie. As time wore on the temptation just to curl up for a bit and feel that warmth in my limbs for just a moment, sleep or die or whatever until the sun rose, well, it was came and went.

Tonight is more of the same. Yet again the idea comes to me to stop. I'm going in circles, I can feel it, and there's some saying about dying tired going through my mind as I plow on, stumbling a bit on a few exposed roots and for some reason giggling as I right myself. I don't stop, of course. There's no other way out for me and I don't really imagine I'd do well with some Crusoe-esque set-up in the trees. And there's something else, no matter that I tell myself it's small and do my best not to think on it in the coldest hours of the night. Another reason to make it home and I can almost feel her skin under hand, the gentle curve of her stomach and that small part of Iago nestled somewhere inside.

Almost. I somber a bit and stop, leaning against one tree among hundreds - haven't I seen them all - with my eyes closed. There's nothing to run through that hasn't been dissected again and again. Raphael and the feel of warm blood splattering against the side of my face. Not his, nothing so satisfying as that, but enough. Then the woods, the night, and I've dreamed of this so many times that it doesn't seem odd at all, to see that great and familiar hound sitting there just across the way when I open my eyes again. It's only when I realize that this is real, realize or remember, that I'm here and it's no dream, that I take a half a step back, blinking in some vague attempt to wish it away. It just looks at me - he just looks at me - and the tree's at my back besides.

It's a wonder I can speak at all, my heart in my throat as it is, and the words spill out before I can help it. "Fancy meeting you here," I croak, some of that odd laughter still in my voice even as my eyes widen and my nails dig into my palms.

"Fancy meeting you here,"

Oh, good. I was starting to think they'd killed him once too often and managed to do him some kind of damage. I could still get him back, but I doubt Glass would be all that pleased. And she'd likely blame me, which I'm getting rather tired of. But after about ten minutes of him slumping against a tree, he looks up at me and says those words.

My tail thumps against the grass. I don't approach him. Last thing I need is to spook him, even though I doubt he could go very far in his condition...little bastard hasn't lost any weight, but from his smell he hasn't been eating.

I make a deep woofing noise in my chest and stand up, turning away and glancing over my shoulder at him. Let's hope he's quick on the uptake. I am not fucking Lassie.

There's a noise, some bark that echoes through the trees and dances over my near-frozen skin, and the great hound is moving. I don't move away, not really, but I can't help but flinch, leaning there against the tree, still dazed, still a little... Well, lost, to be a little blunt about it. In more ways than one.

It takes a moment, as the cold-induced confusion claws at me, but I finally piece together what he's after. Perhaps it helps that I've gone completely and totally batshit insane. Only a mad man would come across the demon dog of night wandering through the woods and determine it wanted to lead him somewhere.

Of course, it's not like it will do any real harm. This portion of the woods, whatever portion it is, happens to be as isolated as any other I've run across. If he wanted to do anything-

Another laugh slips out, followed by a long and heartfelt sigh. Insane or not, there is nothing else to do. And though I won't say I favor my previous experiences with Gaueko over idling here in the woods, but... Wondering about with him seems better than anything else I've been offered over the past few days.

We move along for a long with nothing but the sound of our feet (feet... paws... something like that) against the frozen earth. "If this is some sort of hallucination, I would like to note I prefer the cat," I find myself saying after some time has passed, idle chatter to fill the silence. Not that I'm particularly minded to chat with the shuck, not even in this state, but after being on my own for such a stretch - well, I suppose I could have gotten used to just speaking to fill the void. "Runs through brandy like it's water, but... Well, better than the whole glowing eyes in the distance bit. Less offensive."

I stumble again, some unseen cropping of weeds tangling at my feet for a moment. A litany of curses and I'm back, rubbing my hands together and hurrying after the hound. "God I need a shower..."

Whatever they did to him, sure is taking him longer to put things together. And when he finally does quit staring at me and make a move, it's just to start laughing. I'm starting to wonder if Glass will actually want him back like this. Can't see that he'll be much use to her. Of course, I can't see how much use he was to her in the first place, aside from aesthetic. Suppose I'd better bring him back just to be sure. Might at least be entertaining.

He laughs for a little while, and then he sighs, and he finally (bloody finally) starts moving. By that point I'd sat down and was scratching my ear, but when he started to shuffle forwards I got up and started to walk. It's hard to remember to stay on a sort of trail, not to fade into shadow as a god, not to duck through bushes and under logs as a dog. One ear is turned back to the sound of him blundering and stumbling his way behind me. At least he's not stopping.

We walk like that for some time before he starts talking. "If this is some sort of hallucination, I would like to note I prefer the cat," he says, "Runs through brandy like it's water, but... Well, better than the whole glowing eyes in the distance bit. Less offensive."

Cat? The bakeneko, maybe. Or maybe just a hallucination. I think the bakeneko would have brought him back to town. There's the sound of shredding greenery, then the predictable crash and cursing. I sigh and sit down. How he manages to get himself tangled in plant life in the damned winter...

Thrashing noises. I debate going over to dig him out, but I think he'd just start screaming. I debate going over there and biting him, but I seem to recall promising not to. So I just sigh and wait. Finally he gets up and starts bumbling back towards me. "God I need a shower..."

Have to say, Glass, of the two I prefer the other one. Hope to hell the kid has his mother's brain.

My ears prick at the sound of something moving in the brush. It occurs to me suddenly that he might move a little easier if he had some food in him. Or at least it might stop some of the whining. I bark once, sharply, in his direction and get to my feet, padding into the shadows.

The rabbit's young and stupid, which is the only reason it was so close by. Takes me less than five minutes to catch it, seize it, and shake it until it quits screaming. Then I'm trotting back and tossing the warm, limp body into the pretty boy's lap.

...too bad I never ran into you one night I was out with the pup. You'd have made one hell of a training tool. Like one of those wind-up toys that never stops. My tail thumps the grass.

The hound barks and I almost leap from my skin at the sound, far too loud in the great silence of the woods. I find myself moving back even as it disappears into the darkness, black fur blending with the night until there's nothing at all, nothing left, and I'm alone. I can't say I'm a fan, standing there by myself yet again. Of course, I can't rightly say I'm a fan of tromping through the woods with the beast, but it was somewhat better with company.

Not that I'm in any state to be making those sorts of decisions.

Time has flown by, swept me along with it for night and day and no rest in between, quickly enough that one passing into the next barely registered. But the next few moments, they are an eternity, and I finally plop down to the frozen earth, legs tucked underneath and arms wrapped tight around me. It's not the cold that has me shivering this time, though I still can't imagine what else could cut so deep, and it's with a little apprehension mixed with it all that I look up at its approach, part of my mind only caring that it came back. I'm not here alone anymore.

There's something warm in my lap. It takes a moment for that to register, for me to look down and see the heap of broken fur and flesh in my own hands. No blood, no great splash of red this time, though it doesn't help, doesn't help at all. Bile rises in the back of my throat, burning as I gag, choke it back down with my face hidden in the crook of my arm. And then the world finally snaps back into place.

Something beyond the cold, I can feel something beyond the sharp hands of winter on me, and it rushes all at once so that my eyes go wide when I look back up to the beast. The dead animal in my lap, a slight breeze rustling through the dead trees, all with my blood (-not all mine-) drying and cracking on my skin, turning it some sickly brown that I can feel deep into my bones.

My eyes narrow. I toss the rabbit aside, refusing to watch the way it falls from my fingers, limp and forgotten on the ground. "What do you want, Gaueko?" And if there's power in a name I refuse to fear it, even here. My heart is suddenly beating a tattoo into my chest, threatening to drown out my own words as they leave my mouth, but I refuse to be afraid. Where all else is lacking, I am one stubborn son of a bitch. "Where are leading me?"

First I think he's going to throw up. Which at least won't be messy, seeing as he has nothing in his stomach. But once he's done gagging and groaning he looks up at me, and his eyes seem brighter than before. The rabbit is picked up and tossed aside, and my eyes follow it. Useless little fucker. Bloody waste.

"What do you want, Gaueko?" he says, and I turn my head towards him, pricking up my ears at the sound of my name spoken in the dark, "Where are leading me?"

I can hear his heart pounding, thudding like a kettle drum. My jaws gape in a grin. What, does he think I'm playing with him? If I was, I wouldn't be feeding him. Or trying to, not that the ungrateful little sod seems to care.

I'm not sure how long we sit there looking at each other before switching to Man occurs to me. I suppose I sank deeper into dog-mind than I intended. But when it does occur to me, I do change, and now I'm looking down at him from a far greater height. "What I want is one thing," I say. What I want is to play with him a little and see how many nights I can leave him wandering until he goes completely mad. "Where I'm taking you is another. If you want back to town, I'd suggest you follow me."

The seconds go by and there are eons between those ticks, the two of us looking at each other, before fur rolls to flesh and it's Gaueko staring down at me, his form human again but his eyes still anything but. There's no amount of power in the world that could change that, I don't believe.

"What I want is one thing," he says and it's such a simple thing that I have to wonder why it sends chills down my spine, the feel of hot breath on my neck and claws sunk deep in my flesh before I can pull myself together again. "Where I'm taking you is another. If you want back to town, I'd suggest you follow me."

Another round of silence and there's no amount of standing tall that could ever put me eye to eye with him, so I don't bother trying. To my credit, though, I don't scurry back either. I want to, God it's almost painful just to stand here in his massive shadow, trees looming all around and everything much too familiar now that some sense has returned. It was easier to be mad, I think. Far easier to stumble about through the woods laughing to myself, wondering at the blood on my hands, than to stand here.

But I do it. And that's what matters.

"Why?" This all seems pointless. He's taking me back and, dear God, I have more than enough desire to outweigh my hatred for the beast. More than enough reason to get back to Glass as well. But I have to know. I have to at least ask. "Letting me wander about without my entrails streaming behind is as close to mercy as I'd expect from the likes of you." A small twinge at that, but I say it, with a straight face besides. "So why help me at all?"

He's quiet for a moment, just staring at me. But he stands, and he faces me, and even though his heart is thundering like the hooves of a runaway horse and his skin stinks of fearsweat he does not back down. "Why?" he says, his eyes glittering, "Letting me wander about without my entrails streaming behind is as close to mercy as I'd expect from the likes of you."

I smile, because that's an attractive image right now.

"So why help me at all?"

"Because for whatever reason my daughter has taken a shine to you." I snort. "Can't much see why, myself. If she was more of a clothes horse I'd say it was for your fashion sense. As it is, I'm stuck with the idea that you're damned talented in bed. Regardless, she wants you back. Now, I suggest you eat as much of that rabbit as you can choke down, because we have a long way to go and there isn't exactly a roadside stand along the way." Honestly. People these days need everything spelled out for them...

"Because for whatever reason my daughter has taken a shine to you. Can't much see why, myself. If she was more of a clothes horse I'd say it was for your fashion sense. As it is, I'm stuck with the idea that you're damned talented in bed. Regardless, she wants you back. Now, I suggest you eat as much of that rabbit as you can choke down, because we have a long way to go and there isn't exactly a roadside stand along the way."

His daughter? It takes me a few moments to piece that together, cold and apprehension and all else running through my mind. "Glass..." I finally mutter to myself as it clicks into place. Glass sent Gaueko. As insane as that may sound, there's some brilliance to it as well. I've thought of nothing but her and Iago since I woke up that evening, yet the obvious had yet to occur. In short, Glass must be at her wits end. First Iago's forgotten us and then I disappear from the doorstep and it's no shock she should think to ask her father, despicable creature that he is. If anyone could find me, it would be the shuck.

I reach down to quickly grab the dead rabbit from the ground, fighting a shudder at the way its body hangs limp in my fingers. A long way to go... And I know I could do without it, I could trudge forward forever without it, and yet I also know he's right. The son of a bitch is right. I grimace, shake my head, and look back to Gaueko. "Let's go then. I can... eat while move."

Through the woods again, step by step. I try to keep my focus on that, the sound of my footsteps on the packed earth. Anything but the warm blood on my hands, the soft matted fur. I've only cleaned an animal once or twice in my life; for all the hunting we used to do, it always fell to one of the servants to actually tend to the results. But it seems intuitive enough. Get as much as the fur off as I can manage, get to the meat... I have to swallow, a little sickened by the idea, clenching my jaw and setting my face as we plow ahead.

I don't have a knife or really anything that could be described as sharp and after a moment or two of thinking on it, I can only think of my tie pin. Not exactly what I would have chosen for such a thing, and some part of me perhaps unaware of the current situation does mourn the loss of the accessory, but there's no getting around it. I stab the silver pin into the hollow of the animal's neck, working a large enough hole until I can finally dig my fingers in. From there I slowly begin to skin it, pulling the fur from the meat in what can only be described as a tedious and altogether messy sort of process.

A hunter I am not, but I eventually do manage the job well enough, the front of my shirt once again covered in a slick coating of blood. And it has given me something to do beyond talking to Gaueko, even looking at him as we move, so I can only complain so much. Now there's just to eat the thing, which is perhaps the most difficult bit of all. I can't say I've ever eaten an animal raw before and, while I'm usually so keen on new experiences, I doubt the situation will much help with my memories of this one. A sigh and I take a bite, purposefully setting my mind to chewing, swallowing, and not the feel of the blood in my mouth.

Not the easiest of things and I go one step (or bite, rather) at a time until I've had all I can stomach. I toss the carcass to the side along the way, going to wipe my hands on my legs before realizing the slacks are just as filthy. Terrific. "So..." I'm not entirely keen on a conversation, but I find the need to say something nagging at me again just as soon as I'm done eating, at a loss for anything to do and hating the silence more than the idea of speaking to him.

"Glass sent you after me?" And I don't imagine the strange elation I feel at that idea leaks into my voice too much. Then again, I doubt I'm in the best shape for keeping a cool face right now, so it doesn't matter anyway. "I'm to guess Iago still hasn't come to his senses."

Edited 2010-01-09 11:13 (UTC)

"Glass..." he says. Yes Glass, you insufferable tit, how many other daughters do I have in this town and how many of them give two shits about where you are? He stares at me for another minute (I'm starting to think he's going for the record), then picks the rabbit back up. "Let's go then. I can... eat while move."

"Suit yourself." I shrug and turn to keep walking. I'll stay in man for now. For one thing, he might want to talk again, and for another, it's a bit disconcerting to me just how deeply I went into dog brain to find him. That doesn't normally happen at night, and it's bothering me. At some point I'll go hound again, just to make the going easier...but not now.

I watch him out of the corner of my eye as we walk. I think he's actually using his tie pin to gut the damned rabbit. I'd actually have taken care of it if he'd asked, but I'm rather glad he didn't. This is too bloody funny. He curses and jabs and ribs at the fur and sweats and worries at it. I almost want to tell him to just use his teeth already. But eventually he gets enough skin off of it to start gnawing. He eats, and I slow down so that he can do so while we walk. At least it's not particularly rough going in this area. He chokes down barely a quarter of the carcass before tossing it aside.

I sigh, stop, and fish the sad little chewed thing out of the bushes. Piss poor job skinning too...there's patches of fur everywhere. "You didn't even eat the liver." I snort at him. "Bloody waste, I swear." Well, I won't waste it. I tear open the abdomen and pluck out the liver, tossing it into my mouth. Absolutely no appreciation.

We keep walking. "So..." he says. Ah, yes, getting-to-know-you time. "Glass sent you after me?" he says, sounding like a neglected puppy that's just realized his master's coming home. "I'm to guess Iago still hasn't come to his senses."

"Not to my knowledge," I say, gnawing on a leg bone. "And she's sitting around sulking about it. But she did make me promise not to bite you, if that's any comfort. And it was less 'sent me after you' than it was 'I came around to see what the hell was going on and asked if she'd killed you for doing away with your rival or if she wanted you back'."

Gaueko snatches the rabbit carcass out of the bushes, the poor thing looking all the more pathetic for the dirt and grime sticking to those few remaining patches of fur hanging from its side. "You didn't even eat the liver. Bloody waste, I swear."

I'm caught between gagging and rolling my eyes, purposefully walking on and trying to ignore the ghastly chewing sounds from beside me. Again, a little familiar and I refuse to let it get to me, refuse to do anything but shudder to myself, summoning same half-felt laugh. "Out of onions." I cast him a glance, giant mistake there with the hints of blood on his lips, before going on. "You know, you really should try at least pan searing it next time. It would change your world." A snort. "Though I understand if that would ruin the whole 'squirming and screaming in your mouth' bit you no doubt cherish."

We move along and it's a fair bit easier with something on my stomach, I'll give him that. I ask after Glass, after Iago, and he answers bluntly enough, gnawing on the leg bone of the rabbit. "Not to my knowledge. And she's sitting around sulking about it. But she did make me promise not to bite you, if that's any comfort. And it was less 'sent me after you' than it was 'I came around to see what the hell was going on and asked if she'd killed you for doing away with your rival or if she wanted you back'."

"Appreciated," is all I can come up with, mouth twisted in a disgusted sort of grimace as the sounds of teeth on bone crashing around us. "I know how much willpower that must take for you." A sigh and again my thoughts go to Glass, the only damn reason I'm bothering to follow this beast through the woods. "How is she?" I know I'll see out soon enough and I still find myself worrying, wondering what I'll find when I finally make it back home. "Last I left she was... Ill. I imagine this couldn't have helped any."

He barks laughter, "Out of onions." and his eyes skitter towards me before flicking too quickly away. His face is pale, and I grin. "You know, you really should try at least pan searing it next time. It would change your world. Though I understand if that would ruin the whole 'squirming and screaming in your mouth' bit you no doubt cherish."

"Oh, cooked food has its place," I say cheerfully, popping the eyeballs free of the skull, "but you just don't get the range of flavours you do with raw. Also, it doesn't hold together nearly as well." The eyeballs pop between my teeth like grapes. "Anyway, aside from you small animals tend to die of blood loss and shock before you can start eating them. A good-sized deer, now, that you can eat while it's alive, but they don't tend to scream."

He's moving faster, and he's starting to seem a lot more coherent. Knew the food would help. Quick pause to get my bearings...good. We should be back to town a good two hours before daylight if we keep this pace. "Appreciated. I know how much willpower that must take for you." he says, I'm assuming with regards to me not biting him.

"More and more by the minute." That's not really true, but let's give him something to think about.

"How is she? Last I left she was... Ill. I imagine this couldn't have helped any."

"Well, she hasn't miscarried, if that's what you mean." Not much marrow in this rabbit...well, it was young, and it's been a lean year. "But she's holed herself up in her apartment, which I can't imagine is helping her mood or the situation any. But healthy enough, last I saw her." Healthier than you, anyway. I toss the remains of rabbit into the brush.

His tone is a little too cheerful to do anything but threaten to make me sick all over again, some disgusting noise coming from my side. I refuse to look over, instead focused on where I'm stepping as he speaks. "Oh, cooked food has its place, but you just don't get the range of flavours you do with raw. Also, it doesn't hold together nearly as well." Range of flavors. Bloody revolting and I'm about to say as much, grimace still firmly in place, when the beast continues.

"Anyway, aside from you small animals tend to die of blood loss and shock before you can start eating them. A good-sized deer, now, that you can eat while it's alive, but they don't tend to scream."

Aside from you... I cast him a glare, I can't help myself, just in time to see him chewing on the eyeballs of the rabbit. Now, I really do understand the whole divine punishment bit and I suppose my own time has been long coming. But having to walk through the woods with Gaueko, chatting him up and listening to what can only be described as the sounds of hell as he gorges on rabbit carcass, well... I think it more than settles whatever I may have done til this point.

There's something altogether too cutting on my tongue, but I force it back, not in the mood to discuss the matter any further. Best case scenario, we are stuck talking over eating things while they are alive. Worst... Well, I suppose he could just leave me in the woods again.

So I keep my peace, the same as when he goes on about biting me, only finally losing the resolve when he answers my question about Glass. "Well, she hasn't miscarried, if that's what you mean." None of your damn business, one way or another, you revolting son of-

It shows on my face, I know, and I'm not really minded to stop it, anger building at the idea of him mentioning the baby. Not mine, I know it, but that doesn't matter. It's Iago's - it's all of ours something says - and it doesn't seem right, it coming from his mouth.

"But she's holed herself up in her apartment, which I can't imagine is helping her mood or the situation any. But healthy enough, last I saw her."

"Good," I manage to get out between gritted teeth, eyes set firmly on the path ahead. "Everything will right itself soon enough, when Iago comes back." When. Not if. There's no question to that bit. "Mothers have had to manage with far worse." A sneer. "And she could do with a proper family. Deserves as much."

Look at the look he gives me. He's like one of those pampered little fluffy dogs that strains on its leash towards mastiffs and hounds, barking and snarling and baring their perfect white teeth under the hair ribbons and scent of lavender shampoo. I used to make a point of eating them, of only for the amusement value. He wants to snarl at me, but whatever's building, he holds it back. Well, I wouldn't hurt him in any case...might've scared him. But then, I might do that anyway.

He also doesn't like me talking about the baby. I can see the muscles bunching as he clenches his jaw. "Good. Everything will right itself soon enough, when Iago comes back."

"You've got a way to fix his memory, then? She'll be glad to hear it." I suppose it's possible he actually managed to do something useful. Not probably, of course, but possible...

"Mothers have had to manage with far worse. And she could do with a proper family. Deserves as much." he says, sneering at me.

Do you really think a remark like that is going to get under my skin, boy? "With one father off plowing new fields with no memory of the old and the other still looking twenty-five when his kid's the same age, it's going to be one interesting definition of 'proper family'." I snort. Really, Glass. He may be pretty, but you could have at least gotten a smart one to balance him out...

"You've got a way to fix his memory, then? She'll be glad to hear it." The doubt in his voice is unmistakable, which only sets me to glaring again. As though I couldn't handle something as simple as Raphael. Of course, even I had my doubts at first, but the dolt showed his hand. It's only a matter of time before it's settled, before Iago's back where he belongs and we can get on with life. "I have a fair idea." Which mostly involves killing Raphael, desecrating his corpse, and dragging Iago home by his hair. Call it a work in progress.

"I may have been waylaid, but it'll be nothing to iron out once I get back. I wouldn't be surprised if the fucker decided to run for it while I've been lost out here. Not that it'll help him any..." And that's a little too close to showing my own hand, I think. If Gaueko was worried over Glass enough to check on her, to come tracking me through the woods, I have no doubt he'd been just as keen to kill Raphael if he knew the whole of it. I refuse to give him the pleasure, honestly. The bastard is mine and I won't have Gaueko take that from me as well.

"With one father off plowing new fields with no memory of the old and the other still looking twenty-five when his kid's the same age, it's going to be one interesting definition of 'proper family'." A little cutting, I'll give him that, and yet I can't help but feel a little relieved that he didn't take offense. After all that over getting back to Glass, sorting out the situation with Iago, it would be a minor setback to have him run off without me. Or worse. "Close enough. It'll be well cared for, which matters more than anything else." A little close to something quite personal there and I continue with new resolve. "And Iago'll be back soon enough. So you can rest easy. I'm sure you've been up late night, just fretting over your daughter's future."

A sigh and this really is pointless, this back and forth. I won't get angry, I can't afford it at the moment no matter the temptation. I summon a small chuckle, finding some dark humor there after all, and shake my head. "I look twenty-five? Good God, I suppose this week has been rough on me. Nothing a good shower or four won't cure."

Yeah, like I thought. If he has any idea he wouldn't be glaring at me like that. "I have a fair idea." he says, which I interpret as, I'm flying by the seat of my highly fashionable pants, but I suppose at least he's doing something. "I may have been waylaid, but it'll be nothing to iron out once I get back. I wouldn't be surprised if the fucker decided to run for it while I've been lost out here. Not that it'll help him any..."

"This would be the same fucker I tossed through a window, yes?" I have no doubt this little bastard has more than one enemy in town, but taken in conjunction with the bartender's sudden very convenient amnesia, I can hazard a guess as to who's behind this. "Glass didn't seem to fancy the idea of me going after him. I offered."

Seems to actually relax when I make that remark about families. I guess he was expecting something a little more violent. Wonder where he could have gotten the idea that I'm a violent man. "Close enough. It'll be well cared for, which matters more than anything else." And that's one thing we do agree on. "And Iago'll be back soon enough. So you can rest easy. I'm sure you've been up late night, just fretting over your daughter's future."

"I have faith that Glass can take care of herself, with or without you and the bartender to hold her up." I snort. "But the fact that law enforcement was starting to wander around asking about you all got my back up, so I thought I should check on her."

He suddenly laughs, "I look twenty-five? Good God, I suppose this week has been rough on me. Nothing a good shower or four won't cure."

"You should stick with dirty," I snort, "otherwise you look about fifteen. But I suppose if that's what you're going for..." I wonder how old he is. I'm guessing he doesn't age. Fish my cigarettes out of my pocket and take one, lighting it, then pass the pack to him. Might as well be polite.

"This would be the same fucker I tossed through a window, yes?" It takes a moment to place what he referring to, though when I do it is all I can manage not to curse aloud. Suppose it's not so very shocking, that more minds than mine should jump to the possibility of Raphael being behind all of this. "That would be him," is all I mutter before Gaueko continues. "Glass didn't seem to fancy the idea of me going after him. I offered."

And that's another matter entirely. I look his way, eyes narrowed a bit, though I wouldn't necessarily call it a glare. More... A weighing look, more than I've ever bothered give Gaueko until now, as it doesn't take a particularly swift man to see the sort of person he is. But now, now it's different, and rather important besides.

There's something to be said there and I won't bite my tongue, but I do allow for a bit of procrastination as other subjects come up, Glass and Iago and the baby and-

"You should stick with dirty, otherwise you look about fifteen. But I suppose if that's what you're going for..." he says, offering a pack of cigarettes my way. I can't help but choke out a laugh - the whole mess is just that ridiculous - before taking one for myself and lighting up.

The smoke helps a fair bit more than the raw meat, at least in my opinion, and there's a stretch of silence as we walk and smoke, before I decide it's time to speak up again. I don't want to, God I'd rather just trudge along without a word exchanged until I was home, warm and home and very far away from the beast or the woods or anything to do with this horrible little outing. But I have to, so I speak.

"He's mine," I say suddenly, realizing only after the fact that it may take a bit more explanation than that. "Raphael." I don't look over, only smoking on my cigarette and carefully picking my way along the dark path, eyes on my feet in the hopes of not tripping again. "I'm going to kill him when I get back, after I've seen to Glass I mean. And..." Fuck. "I'd appreciate you not deciding to settle the matter first. Not that what I'd appreciate or not means fuck all to you, but- I have a right to this. And I thought it at least needed to be said."

Edited 2010-01-10 23:12 (UTC)

Seems surprised by the fact that I figured out it was the father. I may not be the brightest dog in the pack, but I'm not a moron. Not sure he likes the idea of me killing him either. Not sure why. You'd think they'd want the bastard dead, after all he's put them through. Hell, I want him dead, and I barely know the man.

He accepts a cigarette, and we walk and smoke together for a time. We're not doing too badly, despite the boy being somewhat useless in the woods and despite the snow that's starting to come down. I'm still hoping that we'll get back before dawn. If not, I'll have to think about what I'm going to do with him. I suppose it'll depend on just how far from town we are when-

"He's mine," says the pretty boy, and I look at him with raised eyebrows. "I'm going to kill him when I get back, after I've seen to Glass I mean. And...I'd appreciate you not deciding to settle the matter first. Not that what I'd appreciate or not means fuck all to you, but- I have a right to this. And I thought it at least needed to be said."

Well, he's asking me, which is better than I would have expected from him. So, we can be polite, then. "I already told Glass that I wouldn't hunt him down. I can't fathom why she doesn't want me to, but I told her I wouldn't. So I'll say the same thing to you; I'm not going to hunt the fucker down. On the other hand, though," I say, taking a long drag on my cigarette, "if I run into him on the street, there are no guarantees." Pause and consider, "You can offer suggestions on what I do to him, should it come up." Can give him that much.

I still don't look up right away, though I can feel his eyes on me as I speak. Instead I continue to focus on the path, taking long and frequent drags from my cigarette. I don't know what response I would have been imagining, from Gaueko of all people (gods, beasts), and I'm ready to accept whatever growl he may see fit to toss my way when he speaks.

"I already told Glass that I wouldn't hunt him down. I can't fathom why she doesn't want me to, but I told her I wouldn't. So I'll say the same thing to you; I'm not going to hunt the fucker down. On the other hand, though, if I run into him on the street, there are no guarantees. You can offer suggestions on what I do to him, should it come up."

I do look at him with that, eyebrow cocked and cigarette hanging from my lips. "Fair enough," I finally manage to say, plucking the smoke from my mouth to continue on. "Though I'd be surprised to find him out and about. He's afraid..." That thought alone is enough to bring a smirk to my face, woods and Gaueko be damned. "I can only hope the fucker didn't take my absence as a chance to run. Not that I can't just follow him to Ipswitch, but-" A shrug. "It would be bothersome."

We walk a little more and the cigarette is done, forgotten along the path. "If you do come across him before I do," I say after a while, arms folded over my chest against the cold. "Piss on his corpse. More the spirit of the promise than the letter, but better than nothing."

I can feel him studying me. Didn't think I was the sort to keep promises, boy? Well, there are a lot of things you don't know about me. "Fair enough," he says finally. "Though I'd be surprised to find him out and about. He's afraid..." which makes him smile. I'm guessing the bastard was also involved in keeping him wherever he was. It's hard to catch the traces on him, him having spent so long in the woods, but I think I'm right. I can only hope the fucker didn't take my absence as a chance to run. Not that I can't just follow him to Ipswitch, but - It would be bothersome."

"You really think he's going to be letting the bartender out of his sight?" I shake my head. "No. He's invested a good deal of time into getting him back. He's not going to leave until he's damned sure his son is ready to go with him." Of course, given the circumstances that will be a lot sooner than normal. But still, I figure we have at least a couple of days.

"If you do come across him before I do, piss on his corpse. More the spirit of the promise than the letter, but better than nothing."

My grin widens, baring my teeth in the dark. "Oh, that I can promise you. That I would have done anyway. And I'll distinctly enjoy it."

...little bastard's starting to shiver. Dammit, if he drops I am not carrying him back. I shrug my coat off and throw it over his shoulders. "Keep moving. We've still got a long way to go."

"You really think he's going to be letting the bartender out of his sight? No. He's invested a good deal of time into getting him back. He's not going to leave until he's damned sure his son is ready to go with him."

That's an altogether comforting and obnoxious thing. True, of course, but it still sets me to glaring, more for the ground under my feet than Gaueko himself. "Without Glass to tether him and half the town gone sick over worry for him, over memories he can't begin to recall... I don't see much keeping Iago here, save being stubborn." A small, private sort of chuckle. "Which he's very good at, but- Well, my money's on Raphael, if it comes down to it. Yet another reason to get back. Run the fucker through and be done with it."

The rest of the conversation doesn't disturb me as much as it should, Gaueko's rather feral grin failing to summon the proper response. Perhaps it's because I share the sentiment, an altogether disturbing sort of idea even if it is Raphael. I simply nod along, not feeling as though I should respond but still not minding to hide the smile I give at the idea.

Again a round of silence falls and it's become commonplace at this point, chat and walk and, just when I imagine I should rest for a spell there's a word or a cigarette to push me along. I would call it compassion, or camaraderie, in another man. In a man. Beasts aren't really capable of such things, though, are they? Something I'd rather not think on.

The snow is beginning to collect in my hair, dusting my shoulders and tinkling my eyelashes as we trudge along. The walking helps, as did the cigarette (and, I suppose, the food), but I can already feel myself beginning to shiver again, that deep chill never really fully gone from my bones. I won't fall, I refuse, and it's that resolve that keeps me going. Of course, having Gaueko at my side doesn't hurt. I have no illusions about him, if I ever did, and I know full well he'd leave me to rot if I happened to stumble. We are too close to home for all of that.

My mind must be a little numb as well as it's only until I feel the weight on my shoulders that I realize he's moved, realize what he's done. "Keep moving," Gaueko says, though I take that exact moment to stop, looking over at him with a strangely lost look. "We've still got a long way to go." The coat smells like him, like the woods and the night, and I hate it immediately, warm all around. But I don't take it off.

I need it, I'd be a fool to pretend otherwise. If I have any chance of making it out of here (and we've already been over the whole 'drop and be left behind' bit), then it's apparently by way of raw meat and borrowed coats.

A sigh and I start walking again, pulling the coat tight around my shoulders and refusing to think too much on it. Keep moving, keep moving. He was right on that and so that's exactly what I do.

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Is it so frightening to have me at your shoulder?

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