Feel the devil on my back

The sky roared with a thunderous force, blackened by dangerous clouds and accompanied by piercing winds that traveled from the waters to the mainland. The waves tumbled high, their heads carrying caps of white as they tried to reclaim the sand they clawed at. In the midst of it was a man, struggling for air and footing; gagging on saltwater and tangled in seaweeds. The sea and the storm above played with him like a toy, throwing him about and keeping him under, but never long enough to drown. He was swept away by currents in an endless rocking motion that made his stomach twist. All he could puke out was the water that he'd been forced to swallow

But as soon as the storm had appeared, it was gone in a final flash of lightning that seemed to be the final blow to the poor, drowned man.

He could feel the tingle of water at his back feet and the sting of tired muscles throughout his entire body. He felt his lungs and throat burn from coughing up the salt of the sea. The ache in his head, the ringing in his ears... And yet, he wasn't dead. Tired eyes opened slowly as he lifted his heavy head above a shoulder. His vision needed time to adjust, but his nose was quicker to figure out where he was. To no one's surprise, he was washed ashore with other rubbish on a perfectly clear and nice day. What the...?

He lifted himself, finding that, though his body was tired, he was unscathed, uninjured... He'd been so certain that he was dead, and yet here he stood in lands unfamiliar and with no way of knowing where he'd come from. His heart ached, almost as if he was homesick, as if something was missing... He couldn't for the life of him remember what (or who) it was.

His stomach rumbled, and it appeared unwise to linger on things forgotten when there were more concerning matters right in front of him. To the north stood a mountain, in the distance many more. He was planning to slip between the trees of the forest he saw between them, hoping his peace to go undisturbed.

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"¿Mamá?" — Mom?

"¿Qué pasa, Mateo?" — What's wrong, Mateo?

"Cuando mueras, ¿eso significa que me dejarás solo? ¿Al igual que papá nos hizo?" — When you die, does that mean you'll leave me all alone? Just like dad did to us?

"Mi dulce niño. Cuando crezcas y empiece a marchitarme, todo lo que tienes que hacer es mantenerme en tus recuerdos y mi alma vivirá para siempre..." — My sweet boy. When you grow older and I start to wither away, all you have to do is keep me in your memories and my soul will live on forever.....

—

Mateo remembered that day -- when he'd woken up from yet another bad dream of him getting lost, and crying to his mother to seek reassurance that she wouldn't leave him. She was all he had, after all -- making friends as the "shy kid" was a challenge and he never truly knew his father. Sadly, the naive mind of a child never granted them any favors, and at his mother's death bed not even her sweet words from that day could take away the sorrow he felt -- the sorrow he still feels to this day for not being able to aid the sickly woman into living a longer life. After all, he did promise her a litter of beautiful grandchildren...

The shaman's tears have dried since then, but not his drive to fulfill his mother's wish and carry on their family's legacy as healers. He may have failed his mother, but perhaps he could make use of his knowledge to save the lives of others? Maybe then, when the sire is truly able to fill the empty space left in his chest after her passing?

He'd already sought refuge in a part of the mountains after seemingly....waking up there a few weeks back....? Well, details surrounding it were of no concern to him at the moment. For now, the sire wanted to make use of his current predicament and set up shelter there, just until he could properly go pack hunting. Today's destination was nowhere specific -- the forest was a breeding ground for plants and herbs of all kinds, so he figured some scouting will do. Though it was the body of a rather tall man who stood with his back towards him that made the Shaman stop to investigate:"Are you heading towards the forest as well?"

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The squishing of wet fur underneath his dirtied paws annoyed him more so than the fur that clung tight to his body, like a mother's suffocating embrace. He had considered drying in the sun on the beach, but - and he'd never admit this out loud - the place scared him. Flashes of his days adrift at sea came back to him, and instead of facing whatever dared to drown him, he ran. It was what he did best,anyway. Of course, it wasn't the only reason to head inland; he knew not where he was, and needed a place where he could survive. He'd worry about spirits, curses and forces sometime later.

And the day just kept getting better and better. A man's voice rang out to him from behind, one he didn't recognize. He played with the idea of staying silent and dragging his soaked body elsewhere, but knew this could make the stranger all the more curious. With a heavy step did he halt and turn to look at his pursuer. The older male looked like marbled sandstone washed clean of dirt and shining in the pale sun. The boy moved his ears back, cautious but curious, like a fawn surrounded by hunters.

His drying fur outlined his muscles - no longer were they hiding under a thick winter's coat. He stood taller than him too - surely he wouldn't try anything. Alright then, he deserved an answer to the question posed. “Depends. Do you know what lies there?” He asked now. If a pack had settled there, he would take the long way around over the mountains to go further inland. He wasn't much in the mood for trouble today.

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The man who he had called out to turned head to look in Mateo's direction -- and when he did, his dark hues widened a bit in suprise. For a body so large, so compactly muscled, the shaman was not expecting it to belong to someone so young. Youth was easily spotted in the shadow's hardened features upon seeing their face -- if you looked closely, of course....

Little did Mateo realize that upon his visual observation of the boy, he'd already taken a few steps closer -- even going as far as to circle one half of the yearling's side. It was a bad habit of his to do this to others, as if he'd been checking up on them to observe a wound or rash that promptly needed cleaning. After Mateo realized this however, he'd respectfully back away with a sheepish grin. "Ah, force of habit. I apologize..." the marbled boy said, and didn't say anything further about the akaward encounter before turning to look back towards the forested area.

"Who knows what could lie there, many things,  probably..." Mateo responded to the younger boy's question, not too knowledgeable of what lied ahead himself,  but still curious nonetheless. Then, his gaze turned back up to the shadow-cloaked yearling with a soft smile, and a shift in his movements closer towards this biome as he looked back. "Though the scent of herbs draws me closer to them, and I could use a little movement in my daily routine anyhow." 

"Would you care to join me?"

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Even when Almight had halted, his pursuer kept, y'know, pursuing. He glared at him, following his movements with his eyes - when he was close enough for the boy's comfort, the titan shook his fur free of water. Hopefully enough of it still clung to him to hit the other, but whether it did or not, Almight would still play it off as just a casual shake with nothing behind it. “Strange habbit.” The boy croaked under his breath.

Almight yawned widely, still rather tired from his 'adventure'. Perhaps that was the only reason he was still playing along with this guy; he was far too tired to just up and walk away. His soaked paws were already sore... He desperately needed somewhere to dry off before he caught his death out here as well. The thought made him chuckle; how pathetic would it be that a storm at sea would not kill him, but a cold would? He tucked his hind 'neath his body as he sat down, a chill running down his spine as he listened to the other, only half aware of what was being said.

“Way to be vague about it dude.” He complained, lounging now. He smirked tiredly. “So you're like, what? An old herbalist? You work for a nearby pack?” He asked, ignoring the question at first. He shook his head with a mocking smile. “Look, man, I was only heading there to find a nice, warm rock to dry off on. If it makes you feel any less lonely if I stick with you, then I guess I'll come along.”

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Just his luck for coming too close, and it was like Mateo had stood in the splash zone of water being shooken away from the teen's pelt. He blinked, for a moment after being wet -- and then a sneeze came along that was followed by a moment of blinking and watery eyes. He supposed many other's could agree the same -- it was a strange habit. Although it was one that the herbalist developed over time; a knack for unnecessary physical check ups...It's a living.

Mateo used a forepaw to rub his watery eyes a bit while responding to the boy's statement of "vagueness" with a light-hearted chuckle. He couldn't help but feel the youth emanating from the dark boy's way of speaking -- it reminded him how enjoyable it was to be around those of different generations. Even the particularly 'angsty' ones. "I am a herbalist, yes, but I wouldn't say that I've reached my prime yet to be considered old,-" Mateo commented with a smile -- surely he wasn't aging too fast, right? The paw used to rub his eyes now migrated to the top of his head to rub away any water that had landed there. "As for a pack....I do suppose I belonged to one. Well...until I woke up here, at least..." His voice notably trailed off at those last couple of words, which begged the question; where did his home disappear to anyway? 

Sidetracking from these confusing thoughts, the large teen would agree to follow suit -- albeit it a rather condescending way that flew over the marbled man's head, since he was too busy happily wagging his tail at the thought of dragging someone along during one of his herb forging sessions. "I suppose I was feeling rather lonely beforehand, especially in a place I have no recollection of..." and before Mateo could let them respond, he was already walking towards the foliage with a bit of a spring in his step while sniffing the air. "Come then. We can find you a place to rest while we walk, maybe then we can share a little more about each other along the way..."

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A smile crept on the giant's face, if only to know he was a slight inconvenience to someone. Truly, the boy wasn't evil. He was just a lonely asshole, and the only way he knew how to have fun was at the expense of others. It was sad, really, though he'd never allow such pity be directed towards him. He was fucking Almight after all, surely his namesake had to mean something?

“Old enough to talk like you're ancient.” He jested, but his expression became a little softer when it was revealed he wasn't the only unfortunate soul that was completely lost in this new realm. Near to no memories, no directions, no real purpose... for now. It wasn't pity he felt, no... it was something closer to empathy, quite the foreign feeling for the hunter. It angered him.

He blew air forcibly through his nose. “Guess I'm not the only one shat out by whatever God in this bloody place.” Though he'd almost hoped he was some kind of messiah, here to save those of a realm not his own and return to his home as a hero. He chuckled. “Not much to share if I don't remember.” He followed the man with his gaze first, letting him take the lead, padding after him shortly after. He aligned their shoulders though kept his distance, opting to look around instead of directly at his travel companion. His lips were tightly sealed.

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