i'm just a fleabag

The strange wolf had led Tafty out of those dark, disquieting woods and into the sunlight. He’d followed gratefully. She seemed to think he was a wolf as well, which struck Tafty as slightly odd, but not truly inconvenient. Some wild animals, quite sensibly, wanted little to do with people. Tafty had shared that sentiment often enough in his time. If thinking him a wolf made her more willing to help him, he’d take it.

Despite his worry for his friends, the trip was almost pleasant. Tafty hadn’t traveled great lengths on four paws before, but he’d spent much of his adult life wandering. He was no stranger to long days and long walks. This was a pleasant place, anyways—the landscape alien, but the air clean and sweet.

They stopped at a small lake for water. Stopping gave Tafty’s worries time to catch up with him, and once he’d finished sipping water with his long wolf’s tongue, he raised his head to look at Merel thoughtfully.

“Those abandoned cities you mentioned,” Tafty said. “Are there any near here?”

Probably not, if she hadn’t seen them, but Tafty had been thinking while they walked. With its long, frequently violent history, Faerûn had any number of abandoned cities—often of the cursed variety. Simply knowing the name of one nearby might help him orient himself. Find his way back.

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@crowloft
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Merel had intended to head north. Unfortunately, Tafty had decided to follow her.

After getting over her initial horror, she wearily accepted her fate as this wolf’s…caretaker. She supposed. He was nice and harmless enough when he wasn’t talking about druids or goddesses. She brought him to a little lake in hopes that her friend Beck might be there. Beck might know what to do with him. Possibly.

But Beck was not there, sadly. She would be on her own. It was a futile hope. She trotted to the edge of the lakeshore with her companion, and lapped up the cold water.

Winter was approaching. She could feel it in the sharp breeze that tugged at her fur. If she wanted to find her sister before the mountains were clogged with snow, she’d have to act soon.

Her ruminating on what she should do next was interrupted by the sound of Tafty’s voice.

“There’s a ruined castle to the south of here,” Merel said. “And there’s a huge staircase somewhere northwest, but it’s not close. I’ve only heard rumours of others—I’ve not seen them myself.”

She watched Tafty closely. In her homeland, she had heard stories of wolves who had learned to walk amongst Men. Her parents had always been tight-lipped on the subject. Best to keep as far away from humans as you can, they had always advised her. Merel had no reason to doubt that advice.

This wolf’s interest in cities made her wonder, though.

“Tafty…what sort of place did you come from?” she asked him.

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@Tafty

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A ruined castle and a grand staircase…yep, those sounded about right. Crumbling marble steps that led to nowhere, the palace they had sprawled before only a memory, and rotting grandeur, returning to the dark soil. Tafty had seen a half-dozen or so of both during his travels, if not more. So Tafty was relatively certain that he was on the right continent, at least, though Merel could be describing one of many places.

“A place like this one,” Tafty replied, answering her with a laugh. “I got…lost, though. We were near a village. A small two-leg city,” Tafty clarified. Merel seemed fairly clueless when it came to people-things. “Have you heard of any place like that?”

Gods, Tafty would love to get back. He didn’t know what he would find when he arrived, but even if the village had been entirely overrun with werewolves, at least he could round up his mates and leave. Find another village, one where he might find a proper room and sink into a nice bath for several hours. Hot food, too.

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@crowloft
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"I know somewhere like that. It's northeast," Merel said. She assumed it went without saying that it was entirely abandoned, of course. Merel could not fathom why any wolf should want a world ruled by Men. Not after what they had done to hers.

She looked at him thoughtfully, ears perking with interest at the word we. Northeast was where she needed to go, too. Perhaps it might benefit them both to head that way. "Maybe your pack would still be there? We could try to head that way instead."

If she could reunite Tafty with his family, that would be the best possible outcome. And perhaps she might reunite with her own sister in the process.

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@rhizophora

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She did know of a village! Maybe even the right village! Tafty brightened, though he couldn’t help feeling a stab of regret at the same time. If he’d just asked her to begin with, while they were still back in that strange, mushroom-riddled patch of forest, they might already be well on their way to the village. And the, er, werewolves, which Tafty had to assume were now running rampant through the streets.

Well, that was a problem for tomorrow’s Tafty. Right now, Tafty would settle for figuring out how the hell he’d been transported all the way out here.

“Oh. Yes, my pack,” Tafty said, a touch hesitantly. She still thought him a wolf, which Tafty was starting to feel badly about, but what was he supposed to do at this point? He’d mentioned druids, even wildshaped druids, but she hadn’t…gotten it. She’d even seemed vaguely uncomfortable at the mention of druids. Suppose she fled if he clarified? He needed her help!

His tail lashed nervously, the habit a holdover from his usual form, before he managed to still it. Come to think of it, why was she still helping him? Most animals were agreeable to helping druids, seeing as druids usually repaid the favor, but Merel was different. Why?

“Why do you want to help me?” Tafty asked, eying Merel. “I appreciate it—a lot, really—but…why? Don’t you have your own pack? Things to do?” Fluffy bunnies to chase? That sort of thing.

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@crowloft
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Why was she helping him? He seemed to perk up at the mention of being able to find his pack, his tail wagging forcefully—that wasn’t reason enough? Well, Merel supposed it was a good question. Fuck if I know, Merel answered silently.

Out loud, she said: “I need to head that direction anyways.”

She paused. Her jaw clenched, the lines of her face momentarily tightening at the mention of her pack. And then she relaxed, shaking her head wordlessly. Well. She didn’t think any harm could possibly come from telling this specific wolf what her goals were. He just seemed so…helpless. Well-meaning, if utterly batshit.

“I’m looking for…someone,” she sighed after a moment. She looked out across the lake. A light breeze ruffled its normally mirror-like surface; around the edges, she could hear freshly-formed ice cracking. Yes, she had to move faster.

“I can take you part of the way there, at least. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find your way from there.”

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@rhizophora

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Even Tafty could read the tension in Merel’s wolfy face before she replied. She seemed hesitant, and when she spoke her answer was about as vague as Tafty’s own description of his missing, erm, pack. Tafty was briefly suspicious, but he was suspicious by nature, as were all his breed. Whatever she was holding back, it was likely nothing to do with him.

“Alright,” said Tafty. “Whenever you’re ready.”

His tail twitched again, quick and anxious. He’d already wasted too much time on this. He already ached to figure out what in the hells had happened to his friends (not to mention his things!) and regain his usual shape. And he was already beginning to fear, deep in his withered heart, that nothing would be that simple or easy.

“Thank you,” Tafty said, after a pause. It sounded stiff, which it was; it was sincere, and therefore sincerely awkward, whereas Tafty’s earlier expressions of gratitude had been more for politeness’ sake than anything else.

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@crowloft
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He didn’t press her for details. She was glad for that. She was familiar, too, with the difference between gratitude and politeness—and when she saw the former in the other wolf’s face, she offered him a genuine smile. Small and tired, but real. More real than the one she wore most of the time.

“Save it for when we find your pack,” she said, a slight grin tugging at her cheeks. “Let’s rest here for a bit, first. Are you hungry? I reckon we can catch some of those ducks, if we’re sneaky.”

Perhaps she’d judged him too quickly. Tafty might be strange and a bit mad, but everyone was a bit mad, weren’t they? Even herself. Ha. With a swish of her tail, she turned to lead him towards the overgrown southern shore.

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@rhizophora

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