Skoll had done little thinking about soft things these days; the beast growing within him would not permit it. And that was what he was slowly becoming, no more than an animal in the body of a werewolf, prowling through the territory and living as solitary a life as it could. He’d tried to make amends with himself in some ways, such as fetching food for the injured Takekuro man and saving his son (or so he’d thought at the time), but he hadn’t bothered to get at the root of the problem—and so it grew, a thorn in his paw, constantly throbbing and keeping him in the worst of moods.

A doggish howl brought his head up suddenly, and he stood from the log he’d been sitting on. For a second, he was himself—brushing his unruly hair out of his face, green eyes round with curiosity—and then he loped nervously in the direction of the summons. Adelle, Adelle, he hadn’t thought much of her since everything else started to occupy his life, but he found himself missing her—because, whatever else she could have been to him, she was a friend, and he needed a friend of his own age right now.

His optime form had traded its princely strut in for a wolfy gait, and so he made quick time to the borders, where he stopped and sniffed. There she was, even more grown-up than he remembered, beginning to lose the last traces of childishness in her toned body. He didn’t know what he thought about that, or even what he looked like: a young man instead of an awkward boy, turned more feral from anger.

At last, Skoll smiled boyishly. “Good to see you again.”

As an animal, Skoll could recognize the tension in her body, but as a friend, he could see that something was wrong and grew worried. He could stomp around and be as petulant as he wanted, but he was still innately good. He clasped his hands behind his back so she wouldn’t see him fidgeting with them, and tried to balance his posture so that it wasn’t overpoweringly dominant or closed-off.

“It hasn’t been that long,” the golden wolfdog answered awkwardly, “has it?” He supposed it felt like it, but the days had been dragging on and on lately. He knew he wasn’t the best person to ask about this kind of thing.

Boy, man, and animal raged within him for a few moments, as he wondered what he should do—continue to maintain this awkward distance she’d set, cordially invite her in, or go and hug her like he kind of wanted to? Some of the sparkle had gone out of her eyes, which unnerved him. Meanwhile, his heart had relearned how to pitter-patter in his chest, and he didn’t know if it was because of general anxiety or because it was her.

But he could figure that out later. Right now, the most important question was: “What’s wrong, Adelle? What happened?” His green eyes softened, and he held his hand out—a gesture of welcome, whether it was into his territory or into his arms.

She spoke of them not being children, and Skoll stared intently at the ground—although it was obvious that he agreed. At least he didn’t feel like a child anymore; he had advanced high into the adult ranks, had responsibilities even if he didn’t do them, and had tasted the conflict that would drive him in life. He’d grown from the alpha puppy into a jealous young adult, still developing and trying to justify how he saw himself. He’d simply made the wrong choice in how to show his dominance, and that had pretty quickly cast away any illusions of it all being a childish game.

But his own problems, mostly centered around an adolescent moodiness, seemed trivial compared to the way the golden-furred girl seemed so withdrawn, so tired and changed. His heart thudded in the silence as he watched her, increasing in tempo as she strode closer, though she did not fall into his embrace like he’d somehow hoped she would.

Instead, Adelle said two dead words.

Shock was apparent on the wolfdog’s face, followed by detached sympathy—all that he could offer, having not lost anyone of his own. He tried to imagine what it would be like if his father or mother died, and found himself instinctively recoiling from the thought. For her to lose her grandfather…

“I’m so sorry, Adelle,” Skoll whispered, his voice thick with emotion and honesty. He closed the space between them, afraid that she would remain tense and unresponsive, but he chanced it—wrapping his strong arms tightly around her and nudging his snout into her shoulder. “I can’t even imagine, babe, I’m so sorry…”

This was something different. Skoll liked to think that he was grown, just shy of a year old, but he didn’t have the experience he might have hoped he’d had. He didn’t know how to comfort someone who was grieving, or hurt; the Kingdom was not a place where that often happened. And yet here they were; he had to do something.

The words coming out of his mouth surprised him just as much as his actions did. No matter what he pretended, he was still a boy, and he hadn’t taken a young woman into his arms yet. Even as his strong arms tightened around her solid frame, he was afraid she would push him away, and he prepared for that.

What he didn’t prepare for was the soft shaking of her shoulders as she cried into his fur. His ears fell back against his blond mane uncertainly before he hugged her a little tighter, nuzzling her ear and licking the top of her head tenderly.

“Your grandpa’s in a better place now,” Skoll whispered, still not knowing where the words were coming from. “He’s a warrior, right? He’s up there on a battlefield, where he can fight all he wants, but he never hurts and he never gets tired and he’s just as strong as he when he was young like us.” He got choked up imagining this scenario for her, mostly because he was thinking of his own kingly father, his aged mother. His voice thickened, deepened. “He’s still watching over you, and I’m sure he’s proud of you. You can pick up where he left off, Adelle. You’re an amazing girl, okay? You’re strong enough to do this on your own—but you don’t have to be alone.”

Skoll was kind of scared, because he didn’t know what to do other than hold on to her and let her hold on to him; otherwise he was afraid they might float away somewhere. He murmured more meaningless words out of reflex, focusing on the feel of her soft fur against his and the strong muscles underneath, the lick on his neck. It might have made him happy at any other time, but this whole situation was too unreal for that, and he knew he couldn’t be happy with her like this.

She was quiet as she talked, but after he’d trailed off, staring across at the trees, she spoke up. The boy offered her a slanted smile then reached up to touch her hair, a comforting gesture. “Just…” He looked shyly at their feet. “Just let me know if there’s anything I can do, all right?”

Skoll did not care if she was messy, her dark hair tangled and her eyes sore with grief. Some of it came from his own disregard for grooming, as he always looked untamed even though he kept himself clean of dirt and destroyed the worst mats in his fur. What he appreciated was what remained despite all that—her bone structure, her strength, and the memory of their other meetings, her spirit, her laugh, her impeccable technique of dumping him on his ass once a sparring session. He cared about her, and he was sincere in wanting to help.

Her giggle, distorted with mucus from sobbing as it was, made him grin broadly. Already, the somber woman who’d approached him had gone away a little bit, revealing that she was still a girl who got self-conscious just like they all did.

Her stomach’s growl surprised him, bringing his ginger ears up, but he laughed off her apology. He leaned in to give her a lick between the eyes then pulled away again, gesturing inward into the Kingdom. “I’m sure I can bring a friend to hunt some deer or something,” he said warmly. “Come on.” He stretched briefly, just in case, then let his muscles contract and contort until he was on four legs, his dog’s tail curled over his back. He smiled at her again, and then turned, running for the swathes of woods on Cour des Miracles land.

Shifting came easily to the creamy-colored male, only for the frequency with which he did so. Each form served to accentuate his moods and aid his ventures in some way. His halfling form was intimidating and powerful, strong and fast, and he could stomp around importantly and pretend that he was the sole defender of the Kingdom, able to take on anyone. The shape of the werewolf varied more, allowing him to create or destroy, to move through the territory with his princely swagger, to ride his mare, or to simply sit down and read a book.

Whatever hubris tainted his secui and optime forms, however, could not touch him in lupus. When he ran on four legs in the shape he’d been born in, all he felt was the pride and purity of the wolf (or wolfdog, as was his case). He felt the most natural and happy like this, free of complex thoughts, simply letting instincts take over and guide him. As he dashed through the grass, he turned and shot a tongue-lolling grin at the girl, admiring her own huge doggish shape and hoping that she’d feel happier like this, too. Maybe she wouldn’t forget her grief, but she could at least put it at bay for a while and let herself start to heal.

The boy set his pace at a steady lope, one that he could keep for a long time without tiring. He let out a short howl as he did so, to let the others know that he was escorting this Cavalier, before they finally reached the forests. He slowed down then, his steps more careful. He was acutely aware that his pale coat starkly contrasted the shadows of the trees, but that wouldn’t matter once they ran the deer down. He didn’t care if it took a day; they’d catch it in the end.

The pace was kept until they entered the forest, and then it slackened as the outsider girl surveyed the area with attention to detail. It made the boy wonder what her forests were like—and if he would ever see them. It had occurred to him more than once that he might like to visit Casa di Cavalieri, knowing that some former Courtiers made their home there, and of course that warriors lived there too. Perhaps they could give them the training that many in his pack could not, or at least a different insight as to how to train. It was probably a bit hypocritical that he wanted to learn to fight better to protect his pack, considering the beating he and Hati had given each other, but it was a worthy goal in the end.

Skoll slowed down as they reached an area where the whitetail liked to browse; he’d seen them as a child roaming through the trees. Sometimes the majestic creatures had simply stood still, stark and brown against a striped brown and white backdrop, as if they still thought they were camouflaged like in the autumn. With it being summer, it was a bit harder to spot them, but the wolfdog relied more on scent as he followed their trail.

He rolled his shoulders forward with anticipation, coming to the edge of the trees; not fifty yards away he thought he could see an old doe. He flicked his gold tail behind him to let Adelle know, his nose pointing in the prey’s direction, as he considered a strategy. All he could think was that he wanted to chase the doe, and bite deep, and drag it down and bite into it again. There was hardly any room for sneaking or tricks in his repertoire.

“Wanna go for it?” Skoll whispered, grinning childishly. He knew it could very well end in a failed hunt, as was often the case, but he was sure it’d be fun and that they could give up and go raid the Court’s stores if they needed to.

The large dog moved away from him, half circling around to come at the deer from a different direction, and Skoll crept forward as sneakily as his bright-colored body would allow him. He stopped and started, but the doe seemed more interested in food than the possibility of becoming food, and when it came close enough to Adelle, the female lunged out, charging after it and snapping at its spindly legs.

With a thunderous bark, Skoll scrambled after them. His paws and shoulders snapped twigs, but he managed to catch up, his tongue lolling as he came alongside the deer. He turned and drove his shoulder into the creature, which stumbled then righted itself, bearing tooth marks from the wolfdog inflicted in the moment it fell. Skoll barked again as it leaped over a fallen log, excited by the chase and the promise of blood on his tongue.

It was rare that Skoll was able to enjoy a mindless hunt like this; few members of the Court (except perhaps Terra) really held to the old way and relied on instincts in their life. Hunting required the preparation of asking others to join him, and even then they were usually content to send a few arrows into a few rabbits rather than truly having fun. He didn’t see how any of that compared to this.

He felt more than saw Adelle grab hold of one of the doe’s legs, and he put on a burst of reserve speed as the creature staggered again, managing to knock the dog girl away. He cut almost in front of the animal, its chest pumping into his neck, and lunged for the leg opposite where he was. The combination caused the deer to trip, flipping over his back and landing on the forest floor with its leg wrenched at an odd angle. It thrashed, a hoof catching Skoll on the shoulder, but he only growled and jumped at his prey, sinking his teeth in for the first death bite of many.