Since his fight with Cwmfen, Brennt had been doing a lot of thinking. Not hard thinking, because that frustrated him to the point of headaches, and not fast thinking, because that was beyond his ability. No, he had been doing a lot of just plain, simple thinking, and, however unusual it might seem, he believed it was getting him somewhere. The black she-wolf who had painted herself in blue had attacked him, but only after leading him on. Now, at first, he had believed this to be a cruel trick. Accustomed as he was to being wrong, he had considered this further, and now believed that maybe she had not been intending to mislead him...he had sensed no deception in her, and he was good at sensing deception, he had watched Pallok do it on purpose for a long time, and had seen Fern and Hylfi lie to him out of pity several times, as well. He disliked their pity, but he felt an enlightened sensation of gladness for it now, because it helped him with this situation. Cwmfen had not meant to lie to him. No, she simply had not been ready to mate, yet.
Brennt's mother had told him that not everyone developed at the same rate. While she had initially told him this to comfort him when his two sisters got smart faster than he did, he had taken it out of context to apply to the outside world long ago. He had no always felt sexual desire, there had been a point not too long ago when he had not understood what it was he wanted, or why he wanted it. It was possible that Cwmfen had, in this way, developed more slowly than him. She may simply not have understood what he wanted. He liked this explanation, because it suggested that in some ways he was actually ahead of the game. Cwmfen had been smarter than him, just like Pallok and his sisters and many others. But if he had become an adult faster than was normal, it felt like he made up for it some way. Now he only had to wonder if it was possible to mature further into intelligence if you missed it as a child.
The stones underfoot did not bother Brennt. He stepped nimbly enough around them. While he was far from graceful, he was sure-footed and fleet enough when the need arose. His size was significant, but size did not indicate slowness...turtles were small and slow, bears were big and fast, these two examples were enough to let even Brennt know that shape mattered more than size. He was never supposed to cross a mountain-lion, because they were faster than they looked, and their jaws were very strong, even though their snout was so short. On the other hand, if he could surprise a doe, that was a good idea because, despite its size, it had no means of defending itself against him.
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cakeFour legs made balancing easier; this was a plus. Bane was so accustomed to the two-legged form, however, that at various times during his hunt, he had had to suppress the urge to reach for something with his hands, pick something up with his opposable thumbs. He understood the ways of their ancestors as well as he wished to, but he also understood that everything ran its course -- including them -- and eventually there came to time to move on. In his mind, that time had come for the old ways, and he reflected these beliefs in his lifestyle. Hunting was the only thing he did on two legs, and even then, he was only half-shifted. The speed boost was convenient when hunting alone.
cakeDespite this, his potential lunch -- a pig, its ancestors once domesticated, reverted back to its wild ways -- had escaped him. It was inevitable; the heightened intelligence was an asset but you couldn't win them all. Having given up on it for the moment, Bane sidetracked a little bit to catch his breath, gazing at the ocean as he walked along the rocky shore. As stated, the four legs made it easier to move quickly along the smooth stones that scattered the earth, and for that reason -- and the fact he would return to hunting once the mood struck him again -- he didn't bother shifting back.
cakeFocused and Alert, as he always was, the dark wolf caught sight of a stranger in his path ahead, seemingly lost in his head. As he neared, Bane got a better view of the stranger and found himself looking at a two-legged wolf, a large male with yellow eyes and old scars. Bane spoke to strangers because their stories, their words, intrigued him, and then was no different. "Hello, stranger," he said from a distance, slowing his walk so as not to appear threatening. He had learned enough of fellow loners to know not all were eager to make friends.
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The wind had not been in his favor, and so Brennt was startled--though even in his surprised he managed to look sluggish--when the other male called out to him. Another black wolf, like the last one, but this one was bigger. It was shifted half-way, and a subconscious warning told him that he should shift halfway also, to better cope with it in case it didn't want to just talk to him. Still, the fact that it had surprised him circumvented his usual thrill, and the predator was not awakened for this interaction.
"Hello. You are a stranger, too." His words came slow, the tone flat, and the phrase--which might have sounded precocious from a child--sounded more like a statement of fact than any sort of implication. Even as he returned the words, muscle began to ripple under his flesh with the shift, and his spine and legs elongated. The fangs extended in his mouth, and his claws grew more bestial, but his eyes still read the same...dim, slow, not-all-there. This was the truth when it came to Brennt: if one sought a modern wolf, not all of one was in there with him. His social persona was severely lacking, and the gaps in his understanding of social behavior and courtesy were always obvious within a few minutes. Maybe he would have been able to function in the wordless but not silent communities of his ancestors, but here and now, especially in Nowry Village where everything was done with hands and language and skill, he was a poor fit.
"What do you want?" The question didn't come fast enough to be a snap, nor harsh enough to be a demand. Though the large--and still growing--wolf was still uncomfortable with this newcomer, he was not hostile to him. His instinct told him only to be wary, and wary he was. He thought he might always be wary, in a world like this one, where words clouded intent so well.
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cakeBefore recent events, the doctor lived for social interaction; this wasn't necessarily because he sought to bond with strangers, but because the sentient mind fascinated him in ways even he couldn't quite explain. Everyone was interesting in their own way, and it was generally easy to get people to talk about themselves. Occasionally, he met a person he didn't have to waste time talking to, as they were interesting in some way, small or big, right off the bat. This wolf was one of those, and Bane watched him silently. His neutral expression belied the curiosity he felt stirring within him, for the man's words and the eyes that looked so empty.
cakeIn the simplest of ways, it was true -- Bane was a stranger, as well. His eyes carefully flitted over the male's chest and legs as he shifted, watching with mild interest the change as it happened. More interesting than that was the fact that this fellow was shifting in the first place; the only reason possible was that Bane was half-shifted, and this man seemed to want to keep things even. Despite the stranger's impressize size -- comparable to his own -- Bane wasn't threatened; he sensed no danger here, simply wariness.
cake"Nothing in particular," he replied lightly, sparing a glance for the ocean as he stood, still and unthreatening a distance from the stranger. "Just being polite. Am I interrupting anything?"
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"No," he said simply after a moment, though it was untrue. He had been thinking about Cwmfen, but he didn't want to tell anybody that. He didn't like that she attacked him, and he didn't like that he had run instead of her running. He knew vaguely that it was better for the other person to run, because it meant you had won, but at the same time, there was no one else who knew about it to be embarrassed by, so it was better. Besides, now that he considered her to be less mature than him sexually, she would be embarrassed if she told anyone, which made the situation better for him.
"But I don't know who you are," he said after a moment, as if that were a relevant and not wholly obvious point to both of them already. Brennt wanted the stranger to go away, but he wasn't exactly certain how to bring that about. Big males who approached partially shifted probably wanted trouble...his mother had told him to look out for strangers who wanted trouble, he was big and strong, of course, but he was also different, and she had warned him that others might try to hurt him because of his differences. He didn't understand why that made it okay, but Pallok had showed him that it did make it okay. Pallok had paid, though, for forgetting that Brennt was big and strong, as well as different.
His shift was done, but he still didn't like that the other wolf had approached. He didn't know if the other was a good fighter like Cwmfen, or a poor fighter like Pallok, or a good fighter with no confidence like Osric. All he knew was what his mother had taught him: boys want trouble more than girls, big boys wanted trouble more than little boys, and if someone shifted bigger than him, he was supposed to shift too. In all likelihood, his mother wasn't as concerned about his welfare now as she had been when she'd told him those things. He had eaten her second litter of babies...she probably hated him. He would be sad about that later, when it occurred to him again, like it did often.
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cakeThe male was evidently possessed of borderline intelligence, and Bane found this curious. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing; perhaps it made life easier, simpler, a throwback to the days of their ancestors, who had followed the same paths through forests and mountains, who had spilled the same blood every time they hunted, who had lived strong and free, unharboured by sentient thought. At the male's reply, Bane smiled, a calm smile that spread across his face without affecting his eyes. "My name is Bane Kiles," he replied. Polite, as always. Everyone deserved an introduction.
cakeThe yellow-eyed male was done with his changing, now fully half-shifted, as Bane was as well. Aware that the stranger could possibly take any wayward movement or comment as a threat, Bane remained where he stood, unwilling to come any closer. He wasn't looking for a fight, but then the dark wolf, despite his size, had never been the type to start anything. Scanning the male, Bane took in the minor details of his appearance, learning as he looked.
cake "You seem as though you've been in a few scraps lately," the black wolf told his companion, voice casual and calm. He knew his presence wasn't exactly welcome, but his curiosity would need to be sated, and he would remain as long as there was no physical threat.
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"Banekyles," Brennt said stupidly a moment later, testing the name on his tongue, speaking it all as one word, as he was a little unfamiliar with surnames. Blank eyes didn't move from his large counterpart, but the hair on the back of his neck stayed down, as the other wolf had kept his distance. That was okay, Brennt could be quite suspicious, but it was generally a relatively passive suspicion, only the predator had the alacrity of thought to do very much in the way of anticipating attack.
"With Cwmfen. She's got blue stripes. She is mean." His diction was extremely simple, but it related his thoughts well enough, in this case. He didn't believe himself to be responsible for what had happened. She had said he liked him in ways that were much clearer than words, and then attacked him for no reason. As if words were necessary for what they had been trying to do, or as if they could invalidate the other signals...in Brennt's mind, words came dead last in terms of communication. Their worth was little, their accuracy was little, and their safety wasn't good, either, as liars could do a lot with words.
He didn't know why he'd told the other large wolf, maybe he knew her? She knew how to fight big wolves, so maybe she had fought him at some point. Maybe, if they both disliked Cwmfen, Banekyles would decide he was alright and leave him alone? Brennt didn't know for sure, but for now he would just go with impulse and hopefully eventually be left alone again. The truth was, though he didn't know it, that he would have been unable to fight Bane even in top condition. Cwmfen had done her damage to him, and though the predator could analyze its own chances and might have run from what it perceived to be an overly curious male with the capacity to kill it, especially in its weakened state, Brennt could realize no such suspicion nor analysis while his mind swam in the world of words.
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cake Brennt is awesome, I like him... he's very unique XD
cakeHaving accepted what he perceived to be a unique personality, Bane wasn't surprised at the stranger's mispronunciation of his name. He also wasn't much surprised when he didn't get a name in return; perhaps the big wolf didn't have one. Perhaps he had at one point, but had left it behind -- these things were unnecessary, Bane would imagine, if you lead a certain type of life. Perhaps he had just forgotten to offer his -- or didn't care. Bane, instead of asking, merely smiled, an enigmatic expression that well shrouded his thoughts.
cakeShifting a little, he sat down on the beach, balancing himself well on the rocks. Already the dark wolf had forgotten his failed hunt, the memory of which would return to him once the conversation he was having with this fellow ran dry. If, of course, you could call it a conversation. For now he was content, as he was whenever his curiosity was being stimulated.
cakeAt the mention of the wolf's adversary, Bane's ears perked involuntarily, and he tilted his head slightly at the stranger. Cwmfen; the last time a stranger had mentioned that name to him, it had also been in reference to a fight. And then he had found her, torn and bleeding at the mercy of a coyote who would've killed her for the hell of it. The mention of her being mean entertained him. A fighter had to be mean to survive. Bane didn't know her all that well; he did know her, however, in ways that Brennt didn't. "That's unfortunate. I've met the lady in question. She seems the type who can handle herself in a fight." Idle conversation.
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Thanks a lot! It occurred to me that I'd never seen anyone play a stupid character, so I figured...why not go for big and dumb?
Brennt said nothing for a moment, his face impassive, but his mind restless. Banekyles knew Cwmfen, but didn't hate her, which meant that they weren't the same, and might mean that he expected Brennt to explain himself, and would probably defend Cwmfen. He didn't want to fight the black wolf, the black wolf was as big as him, and hadn't gotten into a fight recently, and seemed too comfortable...he didn't like wolves that were so comfortable and confident like that, though he didn't know the confidence was why he didn't like them. When someone else was confident, it made him less confident, it made him see them as better or dominant, a natural response to such behavior, and one which reminded him that he wasn't in control.
"She said she knew how to fight big wolves, so she hurt me. But she started it. I could fight people too, but I don't start it. That's bad, and you're not supposed to." He didn't have much in the way of arguments, especially since he wasn't completely conscious that he was embarrassed at having lost, and thus not sure why he was arguing or to what end, exactly. For the most part, Brennt ran on automatic, and if his impulses landed him in a hard spot, there was always instinct to fall back on, which he had been leaning on quite heavily since coming to this place.
He could find food here, but as usual it was his social interactions which got him in trouble. This land had plenty of food and plenty of shelter, but it also had plenty of wolves, and he could not readily make friends, or in the case with Cwmfen, find mates. Brennt would have--with no small degree of anxiety--fallen into the role of father if it had been possible. He was capable of love, he had loved his mother more than any other puppy had ever loved any other mommy, he knew, but his social maturity was severely limited. Not until he shed the words from his mind could he truly make sense of the things that mattered. It was the words that everyone else used, and everyone else that used them, that made life so much more complicated than it needed to be.
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