314 CHPT 314: A Gift Left Behind, How Fitting......

The battle had ended. He'd come face to face with death once again-- this time it's lips grazed his cheek. As he looked back on it, he could feel it's absence of warmth-- the absolute zero of death. The pungent rot of a million corpses who'd fallen prey to the cold kiss, the withering notes that rose from every lifeless throat. They'd almost fallen on his Lupine ears that seemed to hear it all at times. Maybe even something worse....

He came too close. Much too close for comfort-- but then again, that was how the game was played. All he could do was get better. Something that happened in face the death, as it's icy lips parted to swallow him whole. He'd improvised. He'd used the Wood- Weaving Technique taught to him by Rollan-- and added his own boost of speed, maneuverability and aggression.

It was exactly what the large and unsuspecting Gnoll's couldn't handle despite all their physical might and ferocity. In fact, it was almost what he couldn't handle. Leaving him drained and unconscious.

The journey back home wasn't even made successfully. Every step was that much heavier, every ignored System notification that his Mana reserves and Stamina were knee deep in the gutter only drove the fact home that he was spent. He didn't make it far. He didn't even make it out of the clearing.

Eight steps. All he had was eight steps, listening to his own breaths and the sounds of the Bird feeding on the Gnoll's face.

He would've fallen right then and there. But his attention was grabbed, pulling him away from the unwanted space of unconsciousness.

The tree's. He could feel the magic emanating from them even in his exhausted state-- and not just the trees, the roots that snaked and coiled under his feet slithered like plump worms on the run.

It was just barely evening, so the light of day still spread across the sky-- but he could still see the faint glow of the leaves and the bark.

When it reached it's apex of brightness, the sounds of bark splitting and wood grinding hit his ears hard and heavily.

The sudden thought of Rollan's parting words rang out from his mind.

"I'll be watching from the Trees...."

The only reason he was hesitant of expecting to see him was for one simple fact. Rollan didn't leave in the direction he was facing....

And yet, that was who stepped out into the forest. As soon as he was plainly in view, the sounds of wood creaking, bending and connecting came again-- nothing to be seen. Only speculated as if he wanted one to question if he'd actually just been waiting inside of an entire tree.

The thought fled his mind soon after as he looked over Rollan.

It happened again. He looked different.

He could see the man's back muscles through his dark sweater, the rise and fall of his shoulders with every calm and heavy breath. His clothing no longer looked as if it hung over him like curtains. Instead it fit more snugly-- like it was hugging onto him-- like every woven string of warm fabric was holding onto the other for dear life.

The Druid turned, entering the shadows of the forest as he stepped towards him.

Claude was simply fighting to remain upright at that point. Given only one option to stand as Rollan emerged from the forest to face him, his clothing once again hanging loosely from his gangly frame and dark smooth-skinned face.

A trick of the light again...

He only said one thing as Claude fell and faded.

"That was good, Monsieur. But you can do better, no?"

***

Sleep came in all it's warm and fuzzy glory.

Sike..

Thud!

"AHHH-- NO...NO MORE!"

After the sudden thud of his chest, he was ripped from his world of nightmares, still acting out the vile acts placed upon him by whatever part of his psyche seemed to have a taste for torture.

He sat in shock for a moment, eyes flaring and teeth bared at the enemy he thought he saw standing in front of him.

Rollan's knee's.....maybe not an enemy. Maybe not on the same level of catastrophy as Jack, Dolion and Remus as he once thought.

".....Shit."

"What was it this time, hm?" Rollan asked, completely unfazed by the outburst and risk of waking a traumatized member of an endangered species.

Claude shook off the memories, failed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Gnoll spit...."

He could practically hear Rollan's face twisting in confusion, "Quoi?"

"Long story...."

"[Long story indeed.]" Arne added.

Claude let his head rise past Rollan to meet the sky. The interlocking branches and iced leaves looked back at him with the dark sky spread infinitely behind them. As he looked to his right, that darkness lessened in an almost magically smooth hue of orange.

It was barely early morning. He could still feel the pain in his forearms from being punched by the Alpha. The scratch marks in his back and shoulders from wrestling with the Wolf-Gnoll and being thrown through a forest. They were healing....painful, but healing. All good....

For some reason, he still felt an incredibly heavy cloak of anxiety hugging him tight enough to squeeze out extra air every time he exhaled as if something was coming...

"Rollan, why the hell did you wake me?"

"Because of that.." The Druid replied while pointing at something on the ground beside him.

He turned to the right and found the entirety of the pack on guard, hesitantly sniffing at whatever lay next to him.

From the left, Frosty padded up behind him as carefully as someone approaching an active bomb and placed himself right up next to Claude.

"What-- are you doing, dude?" Claude asked the PitWolf as he edged closer, practically trying to mold itself and him into one with every inch he moved closer, placing his paws on his lap and forcing his massive head over Claude's neck.

He let out a territorial growl at the object from beneath him.

"[What is he doing?]"

Claude shrugged weakly, "[He's.....he's closing off my weak-points. He's got his head protecting my throat while his body protects mine.....some mated Wolves will protect their own like this....I don't understand. This is a bit of a strong response to a....a tooth?" He said while looking over Frosty's massive head to find the tooth in the grass.

The reaction wasn't too far off actually. The tooth was massive. It looked like a bone colored dagger in the grass. He suddenly was reminded of his first night in the Astral Realm and shook off the thought of what Fenrir could be doing during his absence....that came as Winter did.

"I found it in the big bastards leg...." Rollan said.

"...The Alpha....that's why it was moving so oddly. It was already injured."

"Oui....It seems that way, Monsieur." Rollan replied before continuing, "You see, part of being a Druid...is knowing your lands. Knowing those that roam it. I want to know if I need to teach you this....or if you know what ive just handed you. It's important, because it's roaming the desert....maybe closer than we're comfortable with."

Claude felt a shiver run down his spine.

He hesitantly reached for the tooth, immediately the pack erupted in a series of barks and snarls in objection. Their reactions were so visceral, so primal.

As soon as he grabbed hold of the tooth and lifted it out of the grass he became aware of two things. It was bigger than he thought and heavy. Heavy as hell.

The tooth curved, like a stretched out bear claw. Only bigger and serrated-- made for slicing and sawing through meat and bone. He could feel it's power in his hands-- a feeling reminiscent of when he was given the Ancient Seed by Rollan. As if it was old.

He brought the tooth to his face to get a better smell and felt Frosty whimper.

One sniff.

WOOM!

In a flash, he was on his feet and steaming as if he'd just busted out of a sauna. He could feel the full sail release of adrenaline pulling his change to the surface while his mind fought between the idea of fight or flight from the tooth.

He was stuck. His skin on fire and insides churning violently as he growled at the object in an almost involuntarily instinctive response. Just like the rest of the pack. He couldn't accurately explain it, but the fear was.....old. Old like beyond his years....as if the scent entered his nose, hit his brain and triggered some historical memory from his very being that learned to fear the scent ages ago.

"[Oh dear....It's a Primal.]"

"I know...." Claude thought as his mind slowly pieced itself back together, the pungent smell of years old rot, feces and poisonous dirty saliva still thick on his nose.

"Come on, Monsieur. You are the Beast of Beasts, no? Your reaction tells me you know what this is...."

Claude forced himself to stand upright and look away from the tooth...the-- baby, tooth, he now realized.

"There's a Protartyrannus somewhere in the desert...."

What a safe place the Vada District was becoming.....

He suddenly wished Ursula would sleep for another year.

Something told him that wish was so far from being granted it was almost funny....ironic even...