A Wolf in the Night [ Mordred ]

[Lady Sasha Tiberius]

Sasha didn't even know why she had come this way at this time of night; she wanted to go for a walk, but why head to the Forest of Balor? She would never enter that blasted forest again if she could help it, so there was no need to worry about her safety.

She had gone for a walk because she was extremely anxious, not knowing the right spell to change back from a wolf to her real form. Pathetic, no? Until she found William, sadly she'd be staying as a wolf. Hopefully no one suspected anything of her short disappearance, and that Gwen would assure everyone that she was alright. Sasha was making everyone think she was a shut in never leaving her house, but it was worth it to save herself from Uther's wrath. It wouldn't be long, anyway. William didn't really seem like a man of great wit, despite his magic. He stood no chance against the King's army.

Sasha sat down on the grass, lifting her head to look up at the cloudy sky. She tried to act like a normal average day wolf and let out a small howl, which turned out quite nicely. Sasha was very much unaware of her surroundings... and who was out there.

[Mordred Dante]

“Sleep away, child, sleep away,” a voice among the wind whispered into the slumbering boy’s ears. A pleasant sleep had taken Mordred for the day, from the departed morning to the approaching evening, and brought to the solemn youth pleasant dreams as well. One such dream was of a particular wolf resting in the grass as it let out a soft howl. It was rather peculiar, though, and seemed to stand out far too much from the surrounding forest, as if it didn’t really belong there. The child’s expression changed to one of concern as he slowly woke up, only to the sound of an actual howl not too far away. It sounded much like the one in his dream, and a dim smile had crept across the boy’s visage for a split second before he turned and lay on his bare back, his eyes gazing up to the darkening ceiling of the tent.

Oh, how he missed waking up in the morning. How he missed hearing those birds singing, and smelling the scent of morning dew settled on the tall blades of grass. How he missed not having to run and not having to move during the nights, where danger would lurk around each and every corner. He couldn’t remember much of his earlier childhood, nor his parents, nor anything excitable, for that matter, other than knowing about his magic. But the knowledge of it only led to the disappointment in himself, that he was without choice, a sorcerer, and thereby to be executed if ever he was to be discovered. He shut his eyes softly, just to try and reminisce the good times that he could remember, and had reached up to his chest to scratch away a bothersome itch. He took in a deep breath and only smelled the scent of cooking smoke, much to his dismay.

But then he noticed another scent. It reeked, almost, but it was quite familiar as well. For a lingering moment, he waited, considering his various thoughts carefully. One was to ignore the scent and hope it was nothing bad, another was to acknowledge and discover the source, and among other thoughts, the latter was coming out stronger than the rest. Concern did grow, of course, as the scent was familiar enough that he could place it well enough. It belonged to a canine, that was for certain, and the canine was quite near. His eyes flew open, catching the ceiling above him for a brief second before they disappeared upwards while the boy started to sit up. He threw off the covers revealing his bare, naked and vulnerable person, and reached for the old robes laying near. “Guard!” He called out sharply as he tossed the robes on and then reached for his cloak just as one of the armed men entered. He wasn’t armed in the idea of defense but more likely so in the term of offense, what with a sword but barely any armor save for the clothes, fit for a poor peasant, on his back. “Come with me,” the boy said quietly as he slipped his feet into his moccasins, continuing his statement, “We’re going hunting.” A sly smile was given by the guard just as they exited out of the boy’s tent.

Leaving the campsite took longer than Mordred would’ve expected, as many came by or spotted him and passed their own greeting along resulting in the boy’s extremely short but kind response. When they finally reached the woods, Mordred bid that the guard went ahead first, and so the man did, closely followed by the child. Moments had passed until Mordred found the scent becoming stronger now, and had to come up with a smart excuse when the guard questioned his sniffling. “I have a cold, man, now get going.” He had said sharply. Soon enough, he spotted something far off in the distance, and the scene from his dream soon came into reality as he approached it closer and closer. He noticed as the man picked up his sword, but immediately caught the arm and held it down firmly when he saw the animal. “Nay,” he whispered softly but ever as sharp, “We do not kill wolves, for they are not the prey but the predator. They are also our protectors, when they are clearly on our side.” The guard hesitated, but then stood back against a thick tree. Mordred looked across the clearing and eyed the wolf carefully. It was the exact same one he had seen in his dream, and quite curiously, it had piqued his interest quickly enough. Slowly, the child would start to approach the wolf, with extreme caution and under a very watchful eye by the guard.

[Lady Sasha Tiberius]

Even though Sasha would never admit it she was somewhat enjoying the ways of the wolf, even if she knew little about it. She had always heard that they could only serve evil and that they spilled blood without reason. Honestly, she didn't want to do any of those things; she just wanted to relax and spend time outside alone. It was her only true comfort that would always be there as long as the forests stood. Then again, she wasn't a real wolf because this had been done to her through sorcery. She had never been raised feral, and nurtured by a wolf pack to -- what some say -- kill.

She knew that it was wise to break the curse and had already planned a secret trip with her maid servant to find a sorcerer to get rid of it, but it had been nagging her all day and was to this very second. So many questions and yet no answers. She needed William to be caught, he could hopefully answer them... if he was nice enough. But she felt as if she couldn't get rid of the curse. It had been placed on her for a reason so said William, right? Why? And why her? Why so coincidental that she had picked that day to go for a walk in the Darkling Woods? It was all to confusing, but she knew one thing for the truth; she HAD to figure out what her powers were meant for.

Suddenly, Sasha found herself tasting the air with the glands on the roof of her mouth and scented to all too familiar smell. Something she had been born knowing. Her own kind! A human. Possibly a hunter...

Standing up with more of a frightened than threatening movement, she flattened her ears and bravely stood her ground. She bared her teeth half way, hoping the human would show himself... or herself. She would speak in a threatening way, but that would only prove that she was using enchantments to appear as a wolf. She hated this complex magic stuff, but possibly if she the hang of it... it might not be that bad.

Instead, just to satisfy her natural territorial attitude, she thought: Show yourself. I mean you no harm but if you wish to fight, I promise I'll give you one you'll never forget!

[Mordred Dante]

OOC - Sorry for the long reply.

He stood still like a statue, as if he was part of the trees themselves. Yet he didn’t sway like they would, under the calm and gentle breeze. He was able to spot the wolf from where he was, although he didn’t dare to move just yet. He wanted to allow the wind to carry his own scent back to the magnificent creature, so that it would be alert of his presence. Indeed, as the moment came to pass, it seemed to have caught a whiff of him and was looking in his direction. With a playful smirk, the boy exited out of the darker shade of the forest until he was clearly visible in the pale moonlight. Wolves were known to have excellent eyesight at night, and he could see it just by looking at the creature’s eyes.

He approached it slowly, certain that it wouldn’t harm him. It did seem rather peaceful to him, although there was a sense of suspicion in the atmosphere. Mordred knew, though, that most of it was coming from him, and even then, most of the rest was coming from the guard whose legs were shivering back in the dark. The child rolled his eyes when he could hear the bones rattling, but he didn’t feel sorry for the guard. He did warn the man to wear long pants and not just torn leggings. Mordred was glad for his own outfit, as it provided him enough warmth. But his face became paler and his ears became redder because it wasn’t concealed from the bitter cold of the morning.

He stood there, now only inches away from the beast, and stared down at it. He allowed his eyes to meet hers, and almost felt like he was in a trance, but was able to control himself. He studied the wolf long enough to realize that his suspicion was most likely correct, that this wolf didn’t belong here. But it felt more to him that it didn’t belong as itself, as how it appeared now before him. However, he couldn’t quite figure it out, and only sighed out, a large puff of breath exiting from his orifice, before crouching down and reaching a hand forward to lightly pat the wolf on its head. He wanted to give the wolf a home, but how would his people view it? Wolves were mostly viewed as evil, hungry beasts that would devour a baby within minutes, bones and all. Even then, he didn’t feel exactly comfortable with the wolf, so he couldn’t really just up and adopt it as his pet. “Hmm,” he said calmly as he glanced down into its eyes again.

[Lady Sasha Tiberius]

Sasha knew that someone was nearby by the scent the wind carried, but she managed to ignore it and pay close attention to the boy that was before her. When he reached out his hand to pat her on the forehead, she was not startled or anything. She responded to it as if she were a tame dog, friendlily and even giving the boy a short few licks on the fingers.

The Lady Sasha knew that if she spoke to the boy now that it wouldn't reach the attention of the King. How would the boy know who she was? As long as she remained a wolf and lacked her full name, he'd never know. She lowered her head in a less threatening posture, and then started to speak. It was hard, speaking speaking with a wolf's mouth, but it was done. "Do not be afraid, I'm not like the other wolves," she started, her voice as soft as the gentle breeze. "I don't kill." No, she didn't. But she couldn't say she never had. "My name is Sasha. What is yours?"