[ ☼ ] When the summer Dies

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He was like a bug;

Wriggling, writhing, turning, itching–

It was painful, the fall, but it was confusing. Janus had been in a form like this before; fuck, he'd travelled dimensions, there was no need to be flabbergasted all of a sudden, but the sire felt himself looking down at his paws and legs with such conviction, he supposed it'd look like he was trying to will away the fur that now laced his body. Well, it's not like he'd been particularly smooth beforehand, but-- you know what, whatever. Janus shook himself one last time, heaving himself upwards as he looked around. Yep. No clue what the fuck this place was; and that made it weirder. Not that he was a canine in some distant world, but that he didn't know what world it was.

He knew every world! He'd been to all of them! How could he not know this one. He huffed, rolling his eyes, and looked around, hoping to gather whatever bearings he may of came with, but, nothing. Not even– No.

Juno.

Janus scowled, prowling around the golden grass for a few moments, trying to find even any sort of reminiscence of what his betrothed might've once been. The sire growled, blending into this new form with odd skill as he scoured the place, tsking underneath his breath everywhere he went, rolling his eyes whenever she wasn't there. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He tipped his head back in a groan, though he had to keep his feet-- paws?-- planted, instead of throwing them up to his face in an act of frustration. He didn't want to make a fool out of himself, now, did he? “Junnooooo,” He whined quietly, screwing his eyes shut. “Where the fuck did you go?? I swear to fucking god Juno, I'll find you . . . No doubt about it.” Some would think that was a threat, some would think it's sweet.

To Janus?

It was a fucking promise.

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Curious.

He's never actually seen a wolf manifest from nowhere before. But there wasn't a wolf before, and now there is one. Writhing like some sort of creature, screaming in agony. So this is what it's like for these creatures, who did not exist when he was young, but now lurk everywhere. And now the creature is whining, begging pleading with some unseen force. Crying for another. Nicabar listens, ears perked slightly, not quite leaving the safety of a bramble bush.

He could speak to the creature. He might, actually. He peers outward, his voice projecting. "From the sky they come. To be a wolf is to be divine, is it not?" The rabbit doesn't truly believe that, and he's not going to say that. He doesn't say many things he truly believes. "Welcome to the world."
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A voice sounded out from the bushes.

Janus glared at it, mismatched eyes glaring through the leaves with the pierce of a thousand suns. He huffed.

"From the sky they come. To be a wolf is to be divine, is it not?" Janus narrowed his brows, scrunching up the top of his nosebridge as his eyes came upon the . . . rabbit. He watched the creature speak, giving a sarcastic dip of his head as it welcomed him to this world. The sire scoffed, his tail swaying as he begun to move. The fuck? Nope. He couldn't just walk away, damnit; “How can you talk?” He asked, turning back to the thing. Janus sniffed. “How can I understand you?”

He sighed, and if he had hands, he would of put his fingers between his eyes; atop his nose, rubbing together in an act of self-soothing the amount of frustration he felt right now. He looked back at the rabbit, shaking his head. “I'm not even sure if I wanna know, fucking hell,” He held his breath for a moment, about to turn away to leave once more until more questions flooded his name and he came back, brows knitted together. “And where the fuck am I?”

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"Do you really think you're the only species capable of thought?" Nicabar speaks aloud this time, pushing his luck. But he's sure he can outrun a confused wolf. "The only species capable of communication? The arrogance of those from beyond!" He laughs, knowing he's likely annoying the creature. But he doesn't answer the questions, not in truth. After all, the man doesn't want to know. So Nicabar watches the posture of the other, eyes glinting.

So they do just appear... This means the first ones must have all arrived this way. "You're in the Ever-Changing Lands," he says. Some might have other names for it, but the Rabbits know the land better than most. They've lived here longer, long enough to see the land warp. "The world seems to welcome you. Make the most of it, will you? She deserves your respect."
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This one reminds Nicabar of what Jericho often warns him about. That wolves do not have any sort of thoughts worth having, and that not a one of them could be trusted. But Nicabar is starting to see that they're rather like rabbits, albeit rabbits with a self-centered god complex. Some of them are brilliant and wonderful. He could speak with them for hours, learn their ways, discuss all manner of useful things with them.

This one, though, was slave fodder. He wouldn't be surprised if a wolf pack kept him as chattel for the hunt. That's what Nicabar would do, were he a wolf.

And so he decides he probably won't even waste time. He doesn't even besmirch the crude comment. "Go rut with holes in the ground, sure," he states, waving a paw dismissively. "If that's truly what drives you forward. I answered your questions. Unless you have more, I don't think I have anything else to give you."
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"Go rut with holes in the ground, sure,"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"If that's truly what drives you forward. I answered your questions. Unless you have more, I don't think I have anything else to give you." Now this time, he really turned to leave, his tail waving a little "goodbye" as his hips swayed; he left. Hopefully he wouldn't have to encounter any more of these bat-shit crazy rabbits, though he knew they reproduced and sprouted up like fucking weeds. He gave a low growl.

Hopefully not.

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