RP:The Alpha and the Lone Wolf
Location: Town in the Trees: the road between Kelay Tavern and Cenril.
Summary: Leo is headed eastbound home. Krice is headed westbound home. When the immovable object meets the unstoppable force and they do not clash. Yet.
Town in the Trees, Kelay Way
Krice shared a word with an elderly gentleman on the porch of his modest Kelay home, clearly positive given the stranger's friendly smile, before turning north out of his yard onto the Way. Dressed in the usual black getup with his collar open and sleeves rolled, white katana strapped to his back, the warrior turned west away from Cenril most likely to return to Talyara in Northern Sage; this visit with the elderly gentleman was a rare one, given the hour. A gentle breeze persisted from the west, cool and refreshing, bringing to his sensitive nose distant scents from Frostmaw, and closer ones from Xalious. Lifting his chin at a subtle angle, the enigmatic swordsman took in his surroundings and observed the scents attached to them, simply watchful without concern or apprehension.
Leoxander was on his way back from a smith who would not be named, having come to the mainland for a few supplies, which explained the rogue’s presence on that well traveled road headed east, toward home. The strap of his leather duffel over shoulder, in his usual black attire that wasn’t as well kept as the warrior’s, with a few knives strapped to his ribs and a sheathed black-iron cutlass on his own back, and two strange looking beasts trailing after the Captain. Sometimes harassing each other, sometimes investigating a new scent, but keeping after their ‘dad’. The maned wolves looked nearly identical, pups sprinting toward maturity that summer season, growing into lanky legs that were too large for their less fluffy and more lean bodies, but their oversized fox-like ears and tail seemed stretched to suit. The only noticeable difference physically in the red/black canine twins was that one was missing an eye, the lid sealed shut with a vague scar split across. But if that wasn’t strange enough, it was the noise they made at Krice from a distance, sounding the alarm with something between a bark and a roar until Leo made a sharp sound that they knew now meant ‘Quiet’. The well sighted of the two flinched a bit from the quick gesture of a hand that stopped them both in their tracks and silenced the the pair, the lycan’s nocturnal vision making out silver hair before the rest cloaked in dark attire, and he relaxed just a degree or two. He continued the designated path but slowed to a stop when they came close enough to meet on it, raising his jaw in an initial greeting. He never knew what to say to Krice but would make the attempt. “This place runnin’ short on people to save ‘r what?” Making light of the fact he was on his own in what seemed to be an unhurried walk, rather than racing with a lycan to his healer.
Krice detected more animalistic scents intermingled with the peaceful essence of forest flora. Up ahead, shrouded in the darkness of night, his sharp sight determined that not all shadows were still beneath trees or buildings; a trio of silhouettes moving ever closer. The bulk of the central figure and the lankiness of its two companions told the warrior, along with that scent, that the person approaching was someone familiar and generally not a threat. He continued at an unchanged pace despite the sound made by one of those wolf-like beasts, but did angle himself closer to the southern flank of the road to ensure that they had plenty of room to pass. When it appeared as though Leoxander would stop, Krice slowed and ultimately did the same, at a comfortable distance between out-of-reach and close enough to hold a conversation. He addressed the lycan's joke with a deadpan, " Peace like this never lasts long enough." He looked past the other male's shoulder toward the northwest, a subtle glance acknowledging the distance left to travel before he would arrive home. If he thought anything of the small arsenal Leoxander wore, he did not express as much.
Leoxander wasn’t much of a chatter, but he had a response for Krice’s spoken fact. “Don’t I know it.” Said as a statement, no question on the matter. Small talk wasn’t his forte, either, so he addressed two topics in turn during their pause in the road, the first regarding that recent visit to Rynvale. “What were you after with Lita?” He had some right to ask, since he’d stumbled upon the two in his shop, not hers. And beyond that he was bold enough to keep track who came and went on territory he had already partly claimed. There wasn’t any suspicion or animosity in his tone - it was just a direct question. “She’s fightin’ tomorrow, you know.” The other matter giving him a moment to consider his response while the rogue was fishing to find out if the Silver Enigma planned to attend. The half blind mongrel nudged his hand as if to ask through body language, ‘Who’s this clown?’ But that was Grim, or ‘Jee’ as Lora called him. The bold one. Chee, or ‘Git’ as Leo called him, was cautiously circling around to maybe brave a closer sniff.
Krice 's eyes drifted to the one mongrel who nudged at Leoxander, but crimson sought gold a moment later. What did he want with Lita? An awfully forward question and one that caused the light to shift in his eyes. It wasn't uncertainty or apprehension, but guardedness that marked his stare. Rather than answer it directly, he opted to follow Leoxander's next point in the conversation, which in turn offered a hint as to his conversation with the vampire. " She told me." As the other mongrel turned to sniff a little closer, Krice remained motionless with his arms relaxed at his sides, unimpressed and certainly not bothered by the creature's curiosity.
Leoxander was aware, through Lita, that the two had what she had called ‘history’, and he had enough of that to make a few private assumptions on what that meant. The fact that Krice glossed over his question wasn’t unnoticed. “You gonna be there? I need t’ find a healer that’ll work with her, however it goes.” He had faith in the Ace, but he had also reassured her with a promise that she would be taken care of and not a wounded spectacle for certain persons to worry over, win or lose. “I’d be willin’ to compensate for the troubles if you think yer witch might be up for the task.” He might have taken the fork in the road toward Larket if he didn’t have a certain snowflake as a last resort, but it could have been Lora’s Q’na and Lady Luck’s good fortune that he happened to bump into that silver haired… acquaintance? Still seemed too strong of a word to describe their tentative rapport.
Krice seemed amenable to the conversation and listened with genuine focus - until Leoxander asked after Krice and Talyara's presence at 'the fight'. His gaze shifted off to the side, a nonchalant dismissal of his interest in this encounter, and said, " We're not interested." His tone wasn't rude or aggressive, simply matter-of-fact; as Leoxander knew, the warrior and the vampire had history, and dragging his witch into the remnants of it was something that didn't appeal at all.
Leoxander fixed a stare upon Krice for a delayed, quiet moment after his answer. The Enigma lived up to his title, he was still very much a mystery in the Captain’s mental log. His own stoic expression didn’t crack, but he did press his back teeth together tightly to keep from demanding more information regarding his old friend, and his newfound association with the swordsman. “You seem t’ care about her, or am I mistakin’ that for somethin’ else…” Even if it was partly an inquiry he spoke more monotone toward the end of that statement. “You happen to know anyone that might be?” Pulling information from that man was worse than pulling teeth; something Leo had always suspected but was gradually learning. Fortunately he knew how to gather bits and pieces without being too obvious about it.
Krice wasn't much of a talker, certainly not when it came to small talk, but seemed just as clammed up about more important things - like histories with vampire women. If he cared about Lita, or felt something else for her that was mistaken by Leoxander for caring, he didn't address it. Rather than stand in the middle of the road dodging things he didn't wish to talk about, the silver-haired warrior stepped forward to pass his lycan would-be acquaintance while offering a vague reply, " There are healers everywhere. Ask around."
Leoxander might be risking an arm, but he reached out to stop the man’s forward retreat, even if his palm came to rest over the front harness of his blade. But hopefully Krice would pause before that point of contact, in time to see the slight narrowing of reflective eyes. “I don’t got a problem with you, ‘Crease’, but you were in a big hurry to leave my pub an’ get off that island when I showed up.” That sometimes gold/green shine of eyes that overrode blue locked toward gold-marked crimson. “I’d rather not worry if I catch yer scent off the mainland, but between that an’ yer brother trackin’ down Lora’, fer his own reasons,” He added in like it might soften the edges of his words, “I’ll fig’er things out one way or another. I’d rather it come from you.”
Krice did stop before Leoxander's hand touched his katana strap, halted by the flexing of the lycan's shoulder - precipitating the obstruction of the arm below it. Cool eyes lifted sharply to the other male's face but he tempered the subtle irritation in favour of keeping the peace. His tone was just as level as it had been before. " There's nothing to figure out. We mean none of you harm, and my business with Lita is mine." And Lita's, but no one else's.
Leoxander shook his head a bit as though mildly disappointed. Not upset. Just disappointed. “Tha’s where yer wrong, mate.” Not the harming reassurance, but Lita’s business. “Don’t think I don’t appreciate a good secret, but yer doin’ more harm than hero keepin’ two sides apart. Either you care, or you don’t.” He wasn’t here to lecture the man who could very possibly leave him in a ditch on the side of Kelay Way for his words, but he wasn’t about to watch Lita build up her walls again and close herself off to the world, which they had all likely done at some point or another. Unknown (or possibly known) to Krice, she was a commander of their little underground army, but more importantly, -she- was his friend. Family. His arm fell back to his side, the two maned wolves sitting and waiting at that point, watching the show. “Guess I’ll see you at the next crownin’ or nameday party, then.” A small but sufficient jab to point out where it seemed the Silver Enigma’s loyalty lay. Maybe their accord at ‘peace’ would be shattered by those simple words, but the pirate didn’t apologize for anything.
Krice wasn't yet at the point where he wanted to 'leave Leoxander in a ditch', but if the lycan kept pushing, he'd probably get him there. Lifting his chin, he leveled crimson eyes on the other man's animal counterparts, one squinting slightly in bemusement. " Maybe it's the nature of whatever shade your job is, or a lycan's paranoia, but your insistence that I'm hiding something - or that my brother is - is getting old. There's no secret. We're not a threat unless you push us to be. Stop pushing."
Leoxander met the warrior with the same bemusement in his own eyes, the slight squint of one all too similar, though he probably seemed to be listening to the demon on his shoulder more than the stoic man within a blade’s reach, now. “It’s what I do, mate.” Push. Sometimes right over the edge of a cliff, but he aimed not to be the one to fall. With that, a curl of his tongue sent an unnecessarily shrill whistle that had both maned wolves on their paws for the journey ahead. And without another word, Leo continued on his walk toward Cenril gates.
Krice dropped his gaze from Leoxander as that whistle broke the evening silence, stepping quietly into the western shadows. The lycan's lack of acceptance - to stop pushing - meant that their future encounters would be a little uncertain; while he could count on the fact that the enigma was a man with enormous reserves of patience, he must also have known that such patience wouldn't last. The future for these two men was a little more open than it had been before this night, leading them to friendship or animosity. Only time would reveal the conclusion.