avatar_Kang Taebin

You make this walk alone

Started by Kang Taebin, Dec 26, 2018, 04:33 PM

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Josh leaned back against the seat as the taxi drove away from his place, settling down for the ride out towards Eagle Ridge where the fox den was. There were several dens scattered in the woods surrounding the town, but this one was the largest. Or, rather, it had the largest foxes—ones that should give the coyote a run for his money.

In order to take out that fox, Josh had to make sure that his sacrifice of choice was well-equipped for the job. He wasn't above lending a helping hand in that matter, but it was preferable to not be caught with his jaws around the pest's throat. Something told him that Rae wouldn't appreciate that.

Although, like Josh said, he didn't need Rae to love him. Hate worked, too. Any strong emotion still meant that he had Rae. It was the absence of feeling that he needed to worry about. The day that Rae failed to acknowledge him, Josh would know that it was all over but for now... He supposed that he had a fair chance.

Once the fox was out of the picture, it would be easy pickings for Josh. He didn't want things handed to him, but he also didn't like working too hard. He enjoyed the chase; he didn't enjoy losing. There were many fine lines there, really.

He chatted with Rae as the taxi wound its way through town but once it reached the outskirts, his interest was diverted to the woods. Josh cracked open the window slightly, allowing the icy air to stream inside. He sniffed. Pine. Dirt. Nature. The feral wolf inside clamored the deeper they trundled into the woods, until the taxi rolled to a stop by the rest area. Josh paid and hopped out, glancing around idly.

No coyote in sight, but the fresh air and nature invigorated him. Despite his fine clothes and well-polished appearance, Josh didn't quite belong to the modern world. It was the wildness in him; the flicker of evil in his dark eyes and his cruel nature that set him apart from all the others. He was literally a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Since his hired help was a little while in coming, Josh sat down on a picnic bench and rested his elbows against the top of the table. He breathed in the cold air, like icy fingers reaching deep into his lungs. A little smile colored his lips as a twig crackled and he only half-turned to eye the source of the disturbance.

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It was hard to make a decision on whether he liked this random person or not. Whoever it was, they had an attitude or at least some kind of superiority complex. Savas didn't take too kindly to that kind of thing, never did. He was the eldest child and he was accustomed to being top coyote around his people. Not that a whole lot of them were around anymore. They had all scattered and that meant his sisters disappeared, too.

Savas honestly didn't know what happened to them. And the stuff about the forest that he told Anon was true: there were a lot of things appearing and disappearing. There were weird creatures, things he'd never seen before in all of his life. So it was disconcerting and yeah, a little scary. Not that he wanted to let that on to a stranger.

He wondered if he should bring his friend with him as insurance, the one that helped him break into that gun shop and steal that gun. No, no. He'd do it alone. Savas wasn't letting any more of them die. Weird, though, protecting a bunny shifter while heading out to murder a den of foxes. Why did this person want Savas to kill a bunch of normal old foxes, anyway? As long as they weren't those protected ones, didn't much matter to him.

A coyote could take on foxes so he didn't bother bringing along his weapon. All he had to do was shift and fight. After all, he'd done a damn good driving the feral wolves back, if he did say so himself. Regular foxes? They were nothing.

Still. Why?

Didn't matter. As long as it led him to the white wolf.

Savas entered the rest stop with his hands with a cagey stance and wary eyes. The clothes he wore were simple; a pair of faded jeans and a plaid button up, the kind of clothes people around town wore. Mostly because he stole them from people around town. There he was. That guy who looked way out of place in the forest, at least until his gaze turned on Savas. Then he could see the wolf in him. Yeah, that was the look of a predator. If he wasn't a werewolf then he was a predatory shifter of some kind.

"Josh," he said, not in the least bit uncertain.

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"Savas."

Strange name for a not-so-strange man. He was at least dressed normally, which Josh approved of if only because so-called naturalists usually shunned the human world in all aspects. Including clothing. Luckily—or maybe not—Savas came fully clothed. His gaze swept Savas easily, from head to toe.

The attitude made sense now. This one seemed like the top dog of his clan, or at least someone accustomed to a position of power. He wasn't towering but he was big enough and he had a capable air about him. How much of that was bluster and how much of it was real—well, that was what Josh came to find out.

He stood with the same confident smile on his lips and approached Savas. Josh wasn't as tense as Savas looked. If anything he was completely relaxed. And why shouldn't he be? He was the alpha here. The bigger and stronger shifter, despite his human stature.

"Not bad." He walked a half circle around Savas, appraising him like he was a piece of meat. This man had to take out a crippled fox—easy—guarded by a witch—not so easy. Josh needed someone who could take a little bit of a beating. "All right, take them off." He gestured to Savas' plain clothing. "Shift."

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Yes. Savas. He couldn't tell what Josh thought of his name but he wasn't really worried about it. An adult who picked on another adult over his name was about as pathetic as they got and he'd turn and walk away if that was what he wanted to deliver. Luckily, it wasn't. Savas sort of maybe might need this guy's help finding the white wolf--if he truly knew where he was. At the moment, Savas still wasn't convinced that he did, despite the photo depicting one.

The circling was normal even in Savas' culture and he remained in place while he was evaluated while also evaluating Josh as he moved. Take them off. Savas' brow immediately shot up. What, he had to get naked for this guy's full evaluation? Savas let out a snort of derision before realizing through Josh's clarification that he was meant to shift for him.

He did hesitate a few seconds. How did he know this wasn't a hunter? But if he was, there was no point in telling him to shift before killing him. So Savas shrugged and then stripped out of his clothes and shifted into his coyote form. Not really conducive to talking but it definitely conducive to hunting foxes.

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Josh wasn't trying to get his jollies off here; he wasn't desperate. Did he look like he needed an excuse to get a man naked in the middle of the woods? The scoff was more offensive than anything Savas sent over the phone. Josh's Not Amused look lasted a while--long after Savas vanished and a full-grown coyote stood in his place.

"Hm."

He toed off his shoes. Next, the clothes came off, and he folded them neatly and laid them on top of the picnic table. Josh rolled his shoulders, reveling in the prickle of cold air against his bare skin. He grinned, a feral grin, and let the wolf inside enfold his consciousness for just a moment, as the human body contorted into that of a large, brown wolf.

Letting out only a short bark to let Savas know that they were moving, he loped off at an easy pace into the woods. Branches, dead leaves and yellowing grass shuffled underfoot as he made a beeline for where he knew the fox den was. It was a large brood, headed by an aggressive male. If Savas was capable, the fox might only pose a little bit of a problem.

What Josh really wanted to know was whether or not he could make the kill.

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Savas was much more comfortable in his coyote skin. Everything was simpler. He'd been born this way, a child of two different worlds but he'd been raised on the wild side. Running through the forest and hunting small animals was nothing new to him. Foxes were smaller than coyotes, but not that much smaller. The wolf that Josh had transformed into was much larger and obviously more suited to the job of hunting foxes. So why did he want Savas?

His simple coyote mind didn't have enough connections to form the right conclusions. All he knew was that there was clearly a disdain for foxes on this guy's end. Savas had no real bias for or against them. Foxes normally didn't fuck around with him or his family so he had no reason to fuck with them--shifter or natural.

But this guy also knew where the white wolf resided. Where he lived. In town. In human form. That would be easier to kill than a wolf versus a coyote. A human form succumbed much easier to death, especially if he didn't see it coming. And Savas didn't need to play a villain and tell his enemy why he was dying. All he needed was the kill and he was going straight for the jugular.

Savas smelled the foxes before he saw them; they had a pungent and signature scent that couldn't be mistaken for anything else. Moreover, one of them was definitely big on making sure the whole forest knew that this was his home. That only made it easier to find and track him down. Once he was outside the den, Savas lowered his head and let out a growling, snapping sound. The den hole was small enough for him to enter but he wasn't going to enter without knowledge of the den's size and any other escape routes. He would rather face the foxes outside.

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Moments like these, Josh felt well and truly free. There were no laws governing nature and the forest animals; there were no human conventions and social constructs to get in the way of his pure, animalistic drive. Here, it was eat or be eaten. The rule of the forest was that the strong survived and the weak perished.

Of course, it was vastly easier to feel superior when he was one of the predators. He was a wolf, not a sheep. A carnivore, not a helpless bunny rummaging through the undergrowth for grass and leaves. Running through the woods with Savas, Josh was happier than he could have ever been at a fancy party or a formal reception.

As the scent of fox drifted to them on the wind, Josh's steps slowed. He snuffled against the loam briefly just to get a proper whiff of the foxes, and then there was no uncertainty as he turned towards one of the den's openings. Foxes were clever things—they usually had many bolt holes to escape from, but Josh could pinpoint the one that they liked to use the most. He stood by it, listening to the mewl of kits inside the den and the nervous scurrying of the grown foxes as they caught his and Savas' scent.

Josh's dark eyes nearly glowed. He lifted his head and looked to Savas, who was by one of the other entrances. It was only a matter of time before the big male poked his head out—he had to defend his brood and secure his home. Sure enough, a few moments later the large male aggressively thrust his snout out, snapping out a warning. If a wolf could have smiled, Josh would have; instead, he settled on his haunches, watching Savas like a hawk.

Maybe he had promised Savas that he'd hand over Aldon, but Josh wasn't big on following through with his promises. In fact, people would have said that he was a Judas in the flesh. Not to mention, he was fairly certain that after the job was done, he would need to dispose of loose ends.

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Here it was. The ultimate showdown. Josh said the whole den but he probably didn't actually mean the kits. Just the adults. Maybe even just the head of the den, who showed himself soon enough.

They locked eyes and from the moment they did, hostility ran through the fox, through Savas and back again. Savas didn't like the way he looked at him, like he thought he was better than him. Coyotes, in his estimation, were given the shit end of the stick out here. Foxes were given at least some form of protection. Coyotes, though... They were fair game. Nuisances. Savas' eyes narrowed. He moved forward, which the fox wasn't expecting. It sank back into its little hole but it was obvious that Savas wasn't going anywhere by the way he kept his eyes straight on focused.

Then, sensing the fox was going to try going back into his hole, Savas lunged forward, going straight for the throat. The fox tried to hide back in his hole but he wasn't quite fast enough or something behind him was blocking him. Maybe one of those kits. Savas didn't immediately get his throat--he got an ear--but he held tight and pulled the fox out of the hole with all of his strength.

When the fox rolled into the dirt, Savas followed right behind, landing atop the fox and this time he went for the jugular without mercy. The fox yipped and screamed as Savas shook him, ripping the throat wide open. The taste of blood coated his tongue and he didn't stop shaking that fox until he couldn't hear it anymore. Then he tossed it aside, watching it land limply on its side, a gaping wound in its throat.

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The whole den meant the whole den--males, females and kits. Josh watched the ensuing tussle dispassionately, displaying no outward signs of acknowledgement despite the feral blood gorging in his veins. The smell of blood in the air and the scene of violence could hardly fail to get a rise out of him.

The only indication was his tail--it swept the dense loam and decaying leaves with powerful strokes, leaving a gouge in the earth.

It wasn't long before the big male was laying still on the ground, blood pooling all around it in a macabre circle of death. Josh didn't stir. There were still foxes inside the den, too afraid to come out. He waited a while and when no other foxes emerged to challenge them, he dove towards the bolt hole. His long fangs snapped amid the panicked yelps and mewls of the helpless foxes and kits inside.

Josh's head flicked sharply. He tossed out a half-grown fox, which whimpered as it cowered on the ground, too scared to even run. His flat, yellow eyes blazed as he stared at Savas and he let out a sharp, commanding bark.

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They weren't done. Even with the leader out of the way and the den left in chaos, Josh wanted to continue the massacre. Savas snarled, smelling and tasting the blood on his muzzle. It was probably best, anyway. They were just normal foxes so it was easy to classify them as little more than something to hunt. And leaving them without a leader would really just end in chaos and probable death for half the foxes anyway.

Savas let the wild side of himself take over. His vision seemed to go red as he dug himself into the den, snapping at the foxes inside. Coyotes weren't that large, even Savas, who was somewhat larger than average. So it didn't take much to dig the hole larger and sidle himself partway inside to snap at the foxes, flushing them out of the den.

They scattered out, some coming out to Josh but some of them running from other hidden holes, trying to make their getaway. Instinct took over upon seeing something small try to run off. Savas snapped its neck, hunting down another and another until the whole world was blood.

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Both the animal and the human parts of Josh were finally in agreement--and both approved of the way that Savas handled the rest of the den. Easy pickings for Josh, certainly, who was more than double the size of the foxes inside the den. He carelessly snapped up a mewling kit and tore into it, going for only the choicest bits of meat before pouncing on another panicked fox. A few managed to scamper away but really, what was a fox or two?

Although, it was interesting that Savas also suffered from some diluted version of the bloodlust that took over Josh and his kind--the ferals. He could see the way that the frenzy took him over, driving him to kill indiscriminately. The red haze that was ever-present in Josh was a symptom of the virus that had a firm hold over him, but the ordinary run-of-the-mill shifters that he knew generally had better control over themselves.

Then again, Savas seemed accustomed to letting the animal side of himself take hold. Josh approved.

He trotted over, amused, satisfied by what he had seen, but hunger unabated. The scent of blood was thick in the air, sweet, cloying, suggestive. Josh nudged Savas' side with his nose and let out an almost playful bark. He tossed his head in the direction of the foxes that had run into the underbrush, and then took off after them. This wasn't business any longer, it was just plain fun.

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Eventually, the hunt had to end. Savas could taste blood and he could smell it everywhere. As he panted, then licked the blood from his muzzle, he flicked his gaze around to locate Josh. Good, he was over there. Part of Savas was pleased and content with letting the hunter inside out. Another part was sick with himself. The human part of his mind, the part that suffered consequences--that part felt sick when it spotted a dead kit and he couldn't tell if it was him or Josh that ripped it to pieces.

Looking away from the carnage, he lifted his head imperiously, as if none of this affected him in the slightest.

Well? Did he accomplish whatever it was that Josh wanted? Was he going to give him the information he wanted? Savas still half expected him not to give in to his side of the bargain, despite being the one to offer the white wolf's head. Or at least a means to getting it for himself. A wolf giving up a wolf? Hm.

After a moment, he shifted back into human form and slowly raised up to his full height. He wasn't worried about the wolf coming for him at this point. If he wanted Savas dead, being in coyote form wasn't going to stop him.

"So?" Savas said. "I did what you wanted. Now it's your turn."

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If Josh wanted anyone dead, nothing was going to stop him and oh, did he ever want that crippled fox dead.

He licked his lips to get the last of the taste of blood, the red mist thinning briefly as all movement ceased. Bodies littered the ground around them—corpses, since they were nothing more than animals. If he had let the bloodlust take over completely, he would have gone straight for Savas' throat but as it was, he halted just in time.

Not that the thought didn't cross his mind. But then, who would kill the fox for him? He stood for a moment simply watching Savas, the cunning, cold, calculating eyes unblinking. Then he too shifted back, smirk intact on his lips. "You haven't. Your job is to kill a shifter for me, not these..." He looked around at the mangled animals. "Things."

This was just a test, as he made perfectly clear before.

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Fuck.

He was right. The agreement contained the death of a shifter. It didn't feel right, knowing he had to kill a shifter--his own kind--just to find his way to the one who killed his parents. But it'll be worth it. Family came first. This shifter wasn't his family. Not his business. Still, he could feel the bile slide up his throat as he nodded.

"Right."

The shifter. Savas wiped a hand across his mouth, knowing there was still blood from his muzzle there. He probably looked like a crazy man but he wasn't alone. Josh looked just as wild and untamed as Savas felt.

"Where's this shifter then?"

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Oh? Was Savas having a pang of conscience? Was he one of those unfortunate people to whom doing the "right thing" took precedence over all else?

Josh scrutinized him with sharp eyes. He generally prided himself on knowing people—that was how he manipulated half the people that he met—and he didn't think that he was wrong about Savas. Revenge was a powerful motivator and being this close to the white wolf, Savas surely wouldn't let a little thing like murder get in the way of achieving his goals.

A slow smile spread in place of the smirk as Savas agreed and Josh let out a near-silent breath. He could have hired someone else to do the deed, but that meant more work. Plus, he knew that he could subdue a mere coyote. If he hired someone that he couldn't manage, it would be... problematic.

"I'll let you know when the time is right. Soon. Very soon." Everything had to be set up just right for Savas to gain access to the fox. That accursed witch would probably be guarding him as jealously as a wolf guarded his territory, but there were ways to lure him out. The leaves underfoot shuffled and crunched as Josh approached, reaching out to swipe at a smear of blood decorating Savas' cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"You did a good job today." He was pleased. His thumb lingered just for a second longer, and then he pulled his hand down. Almost casually, he licked at the blood, tasting its familiar tang. The smile evolved into something devilish and predatory. "I thought you might back out on me."

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