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The Rifthounds came in packs of almost ten to twenty, some times larger if the pack had a leader, not particularly an Alpha - just a stronger wolf that takes command and helps around the pack.
Unfortunately, Wriothesley had found himself in the middle of a pack with not one, not two, but three leader rift wolves. He had jumped right into it without knowing, now there's no way out of it.
All he could do was cower and lower himself to the ground, tail between his legs and ears folded back in fear. He was surrounded by Rifthounds, he could barely understand their wolfish language, only making up some parts of it, but what they spoke of for punishment, Wriothesley didn't want to be in the middle of it at all.
He looked around, keeping his ears to his surroundings to know when a riftwolf would come close to him, he searched for an exit, a way out of this soon to be hellhole of torture.
But it was hard to listen to them when they could float, making no sound as they got closer to him without notice. Wriothesley shrieked when claws dug themself into his side, he took the opening when the hounds backed up due to his loud squeal, booking it out of the pack site.
He could hear one of the leaders call out to follow him, he tried to run as fast as he could, tail still cowered between his legs and ears down he couldn't hear much. But the only thing on his mind was to run .
Run, Wriothesley.
Though he was pretty fast for an abnormally colored but nonetheless normal wolf, the Rifthounds were faster flying through the forest, especially since it was their territory.
Wriothesley’s legs began to hurt, aching at how much he's ran and how fast he's going, he's surprised he hasn't run into a tree yet—
A Rifthound leader somehow appears in front of him, cutting him off and running right into him, he tried to slow down but his mind decided to take the chance and slid underneath the hound and continued running.
He was honestly proud of that stunt, but it all only angered the hounds more. Though now he was a little confident he could escape, his legs still ache like hell. Tears welled up in his eyes at the pain, but he pushed through it.
He needs to know he's gonna be safe.
He needs to know— there's light.
The end of the forest, he doesn't dare look back, he knows no wolf nor hound ever goes near the edge of the forest. He's the only one to visit the human packs and their tall dens, but he's friendly.
People like him.
But he doesn't fit into that society.
He's a wolf, not a human.
He's a wolf , not a human .
Not a human .
He's not a human—
He's—
Falling .
Then he's crashing into a river, his eyes go black as he feels the cold ice all around him.
Then he's jumping up out of his covers, gasping for the air that denies him. Tears flooding his face as his heart beats at speeds he didn't know existed for such a thing.
The cold air of his vision doesn't help, struggling to take in the heaviness. He's panicking, he can't breathe. The air is too thick and cold, like winter snow.
He attempts to get out of bed to open the window, but he forgets he's human and not a wolf, his legs cease to function and he collapses. But nonetheless continues to crawl to the window. Shaking uncontrollably like a leaf in a storm, or a tornado, being torn to shreds.
His heart hurts, his chest hurts, his legs hurt, everything hurts.
His ears begin to ring, making him hiss as it's too loud in his furry ears, they instinctively fold back, trying to block the noise. Just makes it louder but he can't stop. He forgets his own body, everything begins to fail his command.
It's too stuffy—
Then there's moonlight, the curtains are moved and the window is being slid open. The cold air ceases as fresh air joins the room.
He can suddenly breathe properly.
And there's someone here with him.
He hears noise, but the ringing is too loud to make up what it is. He looks up, only to realize he can't see at all. It makes him panic more. Unable to defend himself on who was with him, where he was, what was happening—
“ —ri—ley? ”
He whimpers, scared and terrified, he feels his tail cowering, his hands giving in and he falls to his side. He has yet to feel any touch of the other person who's with him.
His breathing returns to a somewhat healthy stage, he can inhale oxygen and his chest doesn't hurt as much anymore. He silently thanks the other for opening the window, even if he can't speak right now. He's grateful.
Felt like dying.
“Wriothesley?”
He flinches, turning his head to the sound of the voice, he still can't see.
“Open your eyes, love.”
Oh.
That's why he can't see. He didn't realize his eyes were closed in the first place.
His hand rubs his eyes, gaining feeling in them again to open them willingly. He does, and the lights immediately hit him like a flash bang. He hisses, closing his eyes away from the light.
“Oh- my apologies. I will turn the light off.”
The brightness dims, yet he does not open them again, scared of the light. He curls up, ears still folded back and his tail around his right leg, stiff as a statue and fluffed up like a cats’ tail.
“Love, can you speak?”
He feels oddly comforted by the voice, but he doesn't remember anyone calling him love before. Nonetheless, he shakes his head to the best of his abilities.
“That's okay. May I lift you to put you back on the bed? Is that okay?”
He hesitates. He can't seem to remember who this is, if it even is someone he knows. He never knew his parents, he's certain he has no siblings. He can't think of anyone or thing to call him love .
“Wriothesley?”
Wriothesley.
Who's that?
Sounds familiar—
Oh, that must be him.
That's his name.
Right, he's human .
He's human now.
With a human name.
And a human body.
Not a wolf.
“Wriothesley?”
The voice sounds again, he's starting to remember.
He's human, in the human den— city. It's a city. Not a den. They're not a pack, it's a group of people. Not a pack of wolves. People.
He knows this voice that speaks to him so comfortingly and lovingly. He knows it, he knows he knows. So just say it.
He opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a small whine that sounds too wolf like. He hates himself for it, he's never really told anyone about his… abilities .
Not a single soul.
Though he wonders if that one wolf pack had known about him.
The way they looked at him weirdly, not just for his oddly colored fur coat, but the fact that one of the pack members had seen him with the human pa— groups.
Perhaps he just thought he was close with humans and wanted to gain a false trust of the wolf pack and soon betray them with a group of pyro-wielding persons.
He would never hurt his own kin like that.
Not that… wolves were his kin…
“There, you are comfortable.”
Huh?
Oh.
Wait—
When did he get on the bed?
“You seemed to have gotten lost in your head, so I brought you back to the bed, I am sorry if I had touched you in an uncomfortable way.”
That voice… is starting to sound familiar now.
His ears go up, twitching, listening to every movement of the other. He could almost feel the smile and the glare at his furry ears.
“I had never known that part of your hair could move like that, as if it were ears. Nor did I know you had such a fluffy tail. Wriothesley, are you perhaps a hybrid ?”
Hybrid.
Hybrid.
He's a hybrid.
That's why.
That's why he knows no one .
He has no one.
He is his own self.
No relatives, no family, no siblings, no cousins, no one .
He's genetically created .
Then it hits him like a construction mek.
He's Wriothesley.
He's never told anyone about his wolf.
He lives with his husband, Neuvillette.
He just woke up from a nightmare, forced into his wolf state and humiliating himself in front of his own husband he's never told this to before.
And his ears are moving, and his tail is out.
Just kill me now, Archons.
He gets up suddenly, grabbing his tail away from Neuvillette, who he assumed correctly of who was with him the whole time. He forces himself to stop moving his fluffy ears and use the ears this body was designed and meant to use. Embarrassment creeps up on his face.
“Is your mind back to reality, my dear?”
“I—” he tried. He really did. But the words come out as harsh and hoarse, almost gurgled at how dry his throat was. He hadn't realized that before. He coughs heavily, groaning in pain and holding his throat.
“Oh my— I will go get you some water. I will be right back, Wrio.”
He feels the bed lift up as the weight of Neuvillette leaves. The footsteps decrease the further they go, down the stairs and to the kitchen of their house.
He is surprised that Sigewinne is still asleep at this hour — or at least he thinks so, if not she would be worried sick about him right now.
He scratches the back of his hair, noticing how it's very disheveled, he groans in annoyance. He hates showering as a human, he'd rather groom himself with his wolf.
Sigewinne is actually awake, sitting impatiently on the couch in the living room, jumping up when Neuvillette comes down stairs. She goes up to him and waits for him to speak.
“He's alright, Sige. He's just a little dissociated. I will take care of him, you should go back to bed, okay? Everything will be fine in the morning, I promise you. Wriothesley is fine.”
Sigewinne lowers her head, “Fine… But as soon as I wake up, I'm coming right to his room! Hmph.”
And she stomps off to her room, halfway through the hall she starts to run and her door closes. Neuvillette laughs, coming to the fridge for the glass of water for Wriothesley.
Heading back upstairs to Wriothesley’s room, he expected him to be in the same spot, maybe laid down and covered up ready to go back to sleep.
The last thing he expected was a wolf grooming itself on the bed. Licking its paw and rubbing it against its head to clean it.
But what was weird was the abnormal coloring of pure black and pure white that painted its coat. It almost looked like an albino tiger, but with black stripes and a wolf-like body.
When it went to lick under its arm, it noticed Neuvillette and paused. Frozen in time.
Neuvillette was about to scream out where Wriothesley was, but the wolf suddenly vanished into black smoke. Neuvillette waved his hand, coughing the smoke away from him.
Again, he was going to ask, but when he looked again, there he was. Wriothesley, in the same position the wolf was in before. His hair was fixed, no longer a mess, and his eyes seemed more focused now, not a blur and filled with tears.
They stared for a solid two minutes.
“What—”
“Su—rise-?” Wrio choked out, a crooked smile plastered on his nervous face.
Neuvillette comes over next to him and hands him the glass of water, helping him drink it all before setting the glass away. He does not say a word, and Wriothesley’s nerves are through the roof if he continues to play silent mouse.
He tensed at every movement Neuvillette made, scared he'd done something wrong.
Why is he not talking to me?
Did he not like my wolf?
Maybe he's going to leave me—
Take care of me these last minutes and leave.
But why would he leave?
We are married— forever bonded.
Is he going to divorce me?
Leave me and take Sigewinne away?
Am I a threat to the family?
Does he not love me—
“Wriothesley, darling, your thoughts are loud.”
“I'm sorry,” he sobbed, tail curling around him.
“What are you sorry for, my love? You have done nothing wrong. I was trying to snap you out of your thoughts, they were running wild. I need you here with me in reality, Wrio.”
He looked up at his husband, “...You're not mad at me…?”
“Mad at you? About what? How could I ever be mad at you, my little wolf,” Neuvillette came closer to Wriothesley, not touching him so he didn't scare him, but close enough to make the warden feel safe and secure.
“...Because I didn't tell you anything about me. About who I am, what I am, what I can do. My past is a mystery to you, I've never told anyone. How are you not mad?” Wriothesley hugged his knees close, his tail covering his feet and his ears folded back in sadness.
Neuvillette smiled lovingly, “Am I not the same to you, though? You know nothing about me nor my past. Yet you are not mad nor seek knowledge of my past. Why would I be mad when you are not? Besides, I quite like the ‘wolf form’ you have. It's adorable and rather unique, I've never seen those fur coat colors.”
“I never really… thought about your past, all I've ever wanted all these years was to run from mine. I never fit in anywhere before.
People were scared of me, thinking I was a monster and was going to hurt them. Some loved me and gave me food, but never stuck around.
Wolf packs of the forest never accepted me, they'd seen me with humans and didn't trust me. They forced me out of their territories. Rifthounds would only hurt me if I got near them. As a young wolf, they're very hard to lose in a forest, especially on territory.
I would always get badly hurt whenever I got near their territory. It would take days to get them to stop hunting me down. I figured the humans were better than the forest, at least they didn't try to hurt me, only ran away.”
Neuvillette listened to it all, rubbing his knees for comfort as he spoke about his past.
“I had walked the streets of Fontaine, no one bothered me because I didn't bother them. I had begged for food like some pathetic dog for months, until I had done something to piss someone off. I don't remember what I did or who I pissed off, but I had been captured, caged, and abused like I was nothing.
It wasn't long until I found myself in the middle of the Fontainian ocean. Drifting endlessly until my cage decided to sink and I would drown. The same feeling I felt when I had fallen into a river ravine when I was running away from Rifthounds.
Everything was cold, like ice, my body was cold, but the waters were warm. I felt everything and nothing at the same time. My fur felt the waters, the temperatures of said water, but my heart and soul were empty. Void of feelings and emotions, I had lost hope.
Until something sucked me underwater, I thought my cage was finally sinking. But soon I found myself in a rushing tunnel of water, flying through the currents until I saw a fan. That fan was going to destroy the cage, and kill me along with it.
And that cold feeling came back, everything happened too fast, then everything stopped. The fan was encased in ice, ice had stopped it and stopped me from almost dying. And I was no longer in rushing waters, the ice froze the water behind me, I hadn't died but I was trapped still, with nothing but a Cryo vision.
I had been there for weeks , the only sustenance I had was the leaking water. I was starving, and it was death all over again. For months I had suffered from nothing but bad luck and abuse.
Then the vents to the fan opened up. Someone had called out, but I was too weak to listen or call back to them. They took notice of the ice, it was surely very weird to them that ice had formed on a rapidly moving fan with rushing warm waters.
Someone found me and broke the cage open, I would've ran out but I couldn't, they picked me up and I was as light as a feather. They noticed the vision, and they were even more confused. Why would a wolf have a vision?
They took me to a warm place, gave me food and water. They let me keep the vision, though I didn't know what it was, or why I needed it, but it saved my life, so I kept it without reason.
Soon I learned I gained a vision and a human form, the Gods had blessed me with one, because the wild did nothing but curse me. I thank the Tsaritsa for this vision, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for this.
Years later, I wanted to be able to defend myself, so I would never end up in a situation where I would cower like a fool . I did boxing for years inside the Fortress, until I studied and learned to become the Lord Warden in place of my ‘mother’ who had found me.”
They somehow ended with their hands entangled, but neither took their hand away. Wriothesley didn't look at the other, busy crying and telling his story. Neuvillette listened to every word that was spoken, not interrupting or questioning.
Neuvillette simply smiled, “I am grateful you have put trust in me to share your story. I will not tell a soul of it if you'd wish. You have quite the past, a very remarkable one.”
“Please, I almost died like five times—”
“And you live to tell the tale. These scars—”
“Are from Rifthounds, wolves, and abuse…”
Neuvillette took his arm, fingers treading carefully over the black bandages. His eyes are full of love and fascination about the scars.
“These scars are the very thing that tells me you survived through the most traumatic things a young wolf hybrid could go through. Yet you are here , telling me this story, not a single scar hurts anymore, yes?”
Wriothesley hesitantly nodded.
“It does not hurt because you have healed yourself from your past already.”
“Because you healed me.”
Neuvillette dismissed it, “No, I merely helped .”
“But when I first fell in love with you, it felt like my heart was finally whole again. Like I found my missing piece, if that is what it is, then how did you not heal me?”
“Because in order for you to love me , you must first love yourself .”
“But I—”
“You do.”
“But—”
“ You do. ”
“...”
“I know you do, you just don't think so.”
Wriothesley looked away embarrassingly, but Neuvillette held his chin and made him look back. Their eyes meet each other, pale lavender to a gorgeous oceanic purple.
The cosmos to the stars.
“...I love myself.”
“I know,” Neuvillette kisses his cheek, “Do you love your wolf?”
“...”
“Do you love your wolf?” He repeated.
“I love my wolf…”
“What else do you love about yourself, my darling?” Neuvillette forced him to lay down, he crawled on top of him, drowning him in kisses to every part of his neck and shoulders.
“I—” Wriothesley wiggled, “I love… my stupid colorblindness.”
Neuvillette chuckled, nipping at his ears.
“I love— uhm… m-my scars— fuck, Nuevi~”
“Don't get distracted, wolfy.”
“You're the one distracting me—!”
Neuvillette smirked against his neck.
That smug bastard.
“Don't let me stop you, Wrio.”
He groaned. But continued either way.
“...I love my vision.”
Another kiss, just a bit higher than the last.
“I love my flaws.”
Another, more higher.
“I love my ears.”
He hugged Neuvillette.
“I love my tail.”
Neuvillette was at his jaw.
“I love your stupid nicknames for me.”
Neuvillette laughed.
Please.
“I love my family.”
He was so close to his lips.
“I love my daughter.”
Wriothesley caught him before Neuvillette could, kissing him immediately and wrapping his arms around his neck.
He broke away, “I love you .”
Neuvillette’s heart fluttered, “I love you, too.”
They laid there, cuddled up to one another, basking in the love Neuvillette was giving.
Wriothesley felt warm inside, like he was finally home. Away from troubles of his past, memories of the abuse, nightmares of the forest. They were all gone, like they never existed in the first place.
“Your tail is wagging, my dear.”
Wriothesley blushed, covering his face and hiding his tail underneath him. Neuvillette giggled, amused by the reaction.
“When did you get so expressive!?”
“Since our wedding ceremony happened.”
The blush grew to his neck as the wolf fake sobbed in embarrassment. Amusing Neuvillette even more.
“You are so adorable when embarrassed.”
Wriothesley lifted his head to hide in his husband’s neck, forehead snuggled up on him. Neuvillette felt him sniff, and for a second his brain froze.
“Did… you just sniff me?”
“Shut up, you smell good.”
“I will take that as a compliment?”
Neuvillette held Wriothesley up with his arm, slowly bringing him over so he could lay down too. Wriothesley cuddled up under his chin, curling his legs up into a ball. His ears were up, his tail was wagging, and he looked so peaceful like this.
He hugged him closer, rubbing Wriothesley’s back for comfort, he couldn't help but feel joy inside, his heart doing somersaults.
Before Wriothesley could fall asleep, the other spoke up.
“If you are a wolf, I am a dragon.”
…
…
…
Wriothesley’s expression gave whiplash, he flashed his head up to face Neuvillette. A stern and shocked expression staring at him.
“Ex—fucking—cuse me!?”
Neuvillette had never laughed harder.