Everleasting Cold

[Ishmael]

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Ice blue eyes stared off into the distance from the resting place of the young boy. Breathing was heavy, paced, jaw slack to allow the air to flow easily. A cloud of breath propelled itself into the dark night as a foggy puff of moisture before quickly fading in the gentle breeze that whistled between the trees. Leaves and branches enshrouded the thin figure as much as the darkness did in a choking hold, thorns cutting exposed flesh.

An owl hooted out its song of death before dropping down to the earth below, talons spread out like its wings. A hiss, then a scrape of dirt before the old bird was back into the air. Keen eyes watched this, pausing a breath from how close the bird had come. It was exhaled through his nose, jaw tight, eyes drifting from the carnivorous owl ripping the flesh from the snake to the rest of his surroundings.

Ishmael was lost.

This wretched place had swallowed him whole, picking at his carcass bit by bit. In this scenario, he was the snake. He was the one trapped within the clutches of the predator lurking in the shadows. This realization kept him hidden, a desperate attempt to stay alive. Gaze locking back onto the bird of prey, he jerked back when making eye contact with the great beast.

It was futile, everything was futile.

The lycan boy was defenseless. Thorns sliced his cheek upon moving so quickly, white-blond hair snagging in the branches, breath caught in his throat. He was in another's territory, another of his kind. The boy was a drifter, an unwelcome guest. Bringing a hand to his face where the line of blood was, he fingered the slice. Blood stained his fingertips, retreating to his lips to remove the crimson liquid that would act as a beacon for any creatures looming in th darkness.

Exhaustion ached in his bones and his lungs. Ishmael wrapped his arms around himself, leaning against the base of the tree that the bush he was hiding in was trying to take over. Completely hidden from the outside now. A scent in the air caught the boy's attention, but he refused to move. Perhaps this was the last breath he would draw. Perhaps it was death coming to steal his soul.

[Fenris Fenrir]

And it was in another's territory that the boy had ventured into and the one that prowled these parts was just out of eyesight of the boy; watching him with black eyes that seemed to burn in the darkness of the night. The near silent footsteps of the approaching being were occasionally betrayed by the snapping of a twig or the crunch of falling leaves, but the being moved closer to the boy that rested against the tree. After what could be called an eternity; a 6'6" man stepped out of the shadows; but this was no mere man. No one got away with insulting Fenris Fenrir like that.

And so through broken glasses did Fenrir gaze down upon the lad that sat before him. The boy was no human, his scent gave that away, and so any of the blood lust that Fenris felt before vanished. But this lycan before him didn't have the scent of either the Forest or the Tunnels about him. Odd; for most the lycans in these lands had one scent or the other about them. Or perhaps he wasn't from around here. That would explain a great many things.

The boy didn't seem to pose a threat and since he wasn't from around here; it made sense that Fenris would let him off for entering his territory. But his curiosity had taken wing and now Fenrir walked over to the side of the white-haired boy and knelt down besides him. Burning coals met with frozen pools as Fenris locked eyes with the boy; observing him as if he were a work of art. How Fenris wanted to reach out his arm and touch the boy; to let him know that he was not alone, but that would only frighten him. That was all Fenris Fenrir seemed to do to pups; his size and personality scared them off before he could even have the chance to know them.

Averting his gaze from the pup; Fenris asked, "Who are you pup? What are you doing in a place like this? A place were predator becomes prey to what it hunts; where all is not what it seems and in every shadow; unknown creatures lay in wait? What bring you to the Forbidden Forest?"

[Ishmael]

Snap. Crunch. Ishmael snapped his head in the direction of the noise, pressing his back against the tree hard. The chill in his breath nearly matched the freeze of the air, his heart pounding in his ears so hard that he thought it was going to explode. The boy tried looking through the thorns and scraggly branches and the leaves into the darkness before him, tried to see who was lurking in the darkness.

A bead of sweat rolled through his messy white-blond strands and down the back of his neck. Pulling his knees into his chest, he wrapped his arms around them and waited... just waited... for whatever lurked in the darkness to come out. Waited for everything to be over.

Then, Ishmael gazed upon the figure of Fenris.

It didn't take much to tell him that the man before him wasn't completely human. The scent was that of a lycan's, his gaze devoid of anything but a burning hate that would strike fear into the hearts of any. Eyes lingering on the broken glasses for a few moments, a quick scan of the powerful lycan's demeanor was all he needed. The boy felt so utterly weak and small in the shadow of that man, yet hardly felt any fear.

Gaze locked with gaze, Ishmael's frozen heart against Fenrir's burning rage, they stared. The boy didn't move, didn't blink, transfixed on the eyes so opposite of his own. Fenrir broke away, his gaze following the movement of Fenrir's eyes. The words he spoke weren't the ones he had expected, weren't the ones that Ishmael had predicted to slide past the lips of the vicious creature.

"Ishmael,"

The voice was soft, gentle. A comfort unlike the boy himself in any way. "I'm a drifter, I have no home. I don't know how I got here, but now I am." Eyebrows lowered a bit, but not into a glare, but more of a slight thoughtful expression, a questioning manner. The beast had not attacked him. This confused the boy, but Ishmael would let introductions come first.

"Have I the pleasure of knowing your name?"

OOC: Okay, I'm just leaving this as is right here. The computer and I are suffering marital issues, so it dies on me quite often.

[Fenris Fenrir]

"Ishmael...", softly murmured Fenris after the boy had named himself and spoke of his predicament. It always seemed that when introductions were made; Fenris savored the first time he learned a person's name, that is if they were worthy of respect. And despite the quivering form of a boy that sat hunched before him, Fenris still respected this pup. Ishmael didn't show any signs of true fear or weakness when he looked at Fenris Fenrir and that had wonderous effects on the normally blood-thirsty beast. Here was someone that didn't fear him on their first encounter; here was someone who seemed to be a younger form of himself.

Ishmael said that he was a drifter; traveling from place to place and only living there for a time. In a sense Fenris was exactly the same; he constantly wandered about the woods and he had no pack to call his own. The Tunnels were his foes and they in turn frowned upon the abomination that was given life on their doorstep. And even though he called himself a forest lycan; those of the Forest had yet to make themselves know to him and show him what they might want of him.

The black eyes that were behind the broken glasses seemed to mist over in thought; but it was the seemingly timid question that brought Fenrir out of his little world. "You wish to know my name young, master Ishmael? Then you shall know of it since you ask; I am Fenris Fenrir; I am as of now attached to no pack but I make these woods my home and so far none of have tried to evict me from here." And even as Fenris wanted to continue a bit in telling Ishmael about himself; this overpowering, fatherly urge took hold of the lycan.

Lightly placing his hand on Ishmael's shoulder; Fenris smiled benignly upon the boy (and to many; such a smile would seem impossible for Fenris Fenrir); perhaps the boy would stay in the Forest for a time, but Fenris could not only a child to wander the Forest alone; not in this state at least. With the black fire dying in his eyes; Fenris said in a tone of voice that none had heard him utter.

"You know; you can stay with me for a time. At least until you are fit. For these this Forest is unfit for one such as yourself; it would please me if you would accept this. I ....I have always wanted a pup." And if one didn't know better; a faint smile crept onto Fenrir's face. He had smiled before but normally out of craziness and passion of the hunt; but this was different; his first true smile. Something that graced the Forest for the first time and perhaps it woud not be the last.