[ Six weeks since Rose Creek, and the road has been startlingly quiet since Faraday's unfortunate reacquaintance with Anton and Gilbert. They've made it through a fourth full moon – not exactly whole, but alive come morning – and a fifth is a few days out. They've taken to scouting a passable range of land to settle before Faraday's feral change, somewhere for the two of them to make camp and feel confident the wolf won't find itself a meal of humans at some point in the night.
After the fourth moon, Vasquez feels fairly confident in their ability to set down out of the way, and unlike the hellish first few encounters, he isn't near so worried about the way he or some innocent bystander might end the night.
The wolf may thoroughly cull the local prey population, but human casualties aren't a concern.
Tomorrow is the night of the full moon.
Vasquez and Faraday have made camp just inside a system of caves. It's small, with one way in and out (that they've found), and it looks out across the broad expanse of the desert they've been traversing for the past week. The land is broken up by rising rock formations, mountain ranges on both sides in the far distance, and a whole lot of flat.
Belatedly, as Vasquez looks out at the desert beyond, he realizes this is somewhat ideal for keeping an eye on the wolf during a full moon. The wolf can get far, but Vasquez should be able to watch him for a while before he might even have to consider following after.
Maybe he won't end tomorrow night with so much flesh between the wolf's jaws.
It's not uncommon for the pair to go out in the night after Faraday's change. They hunt or wander – not too far from camp – to see what they can expect from their surroundings.
After they've both had a dinner of coyotes, they trek back to the caves, the quiet night broken only by the chirp of crickets and the fall of Vasquez's boots; the wolf's paws go nearly silent in the sandy dirt. Vasquez is mindful of the plant life, but some of it is tall and prickly. Burrs stick to his chaps, and as he's about to mention it to Faraday, he can hear the wolf's fur brush right through the stickery plants. ]
Perro...?
[ He grimaces in sympathy as he casts a glance back to Faraday. ]
[ The full moons still end up as a mess for the both of them, but somehow— it's not quite as bad as those first couple go-arounds. Maybe because Vasquez has a better idea of what to expect, or maybe because the man has learned to keep his distance, or maybe because he's a little less circumspect when it comes to divesting the wolf of its blood.
Whatever the case, Faraday still worries, because this curse has been nothing but a worry, but he's at least a little more certain of Vasquez's ability to come out alive on the other side.
The change is rough, as it always is when they draw closer to the full moon, like the wolf knows its time is coming, and it grows more impatient with each passing night.
This bit of land they've staked out is convenient, to say the least; devoid of people, which means Faraday has little to worry about, come the night of the full moon, but filled with enough prey that he hopes it should keep the wolf occupied enough to hold its attention – maybe long enough to keep its sights off Vasquez, though Faraday admits that's just wishful thinking.
The plant life isn't quite as bothersome for Faraday – at least, not immediately. His fur in this form is thick enough that when the burrs and barbs sink in, he doesn't take note until they're good and buried into his undercoat. By that point, he has to struggle with picking them out with his teeth, hoping he doesn't just tangle them in further.
On the bright side, come morning, the mess should slough off with his fur. It's about the only convenience the transformation affords him.
When Vasquez pauses, looking back at him with that wince, Faraday's head tilts. Sure enough, his coat his covered in burrs and foxtail spikelets.
His eyes narrow, though, and he snorts out a breath.
[ Vasquez has at least spent enough time with Faraday in both his forms that he recognizes enough of the look signaling a lack of understanding.
Demonstration, then.
The wolf is tall enough that Vasquez can reach out without stretching to find a goathead trying to burrow itself into Faraday’s coat. He gives it a pointed tug – and, as if to make a point, the damned thing only yanks at the fur. ]
[ Faraday tenses when he feels Vasquez yank at his fur, but rather than snap at Vasquez, as his lupine hindbrain demands, Faraday just growls with displeasure.
Coulda just said that.
He turns his head, letting out another unhappy groan when he finally sees the state of his coat, and he bites at another burr, tugging it free from his fur before spitting it to the ground. ]
[ Since the growl isn’t accompanied by a bite, Vasquez just gives an unapologetic shrug. He watches Faraday trying to chomp out a couple more burrs, and Vasquez at least looks sympathetic again. ]
Ay, let me help. I can work them out before they tangle deeper.
[ He may have inelegantly yanked at the last one, but he does have the benefit of fingers; he can work the fur out of the stickers without just grabbing a handful or chewing at them. ]
[ The lack of thumbs is one hell of an inconvenience, admittedly.
At Vasquez's offer, Faraday lets out a resigned huff. Vasquez stands a better chance of getting the stickers out of his fur, and if he can't, then he's at least got the benefit of being able to use a knife to cut them out, if it comes to it.
He lets out a low, warning grunt – if Vasquez means to just yank his fur out... ]
[ Well, that's as much permission as he assumes he's going to get from Faraday in this form. ]
Have a sit. I'll get the worst out, so you're not too uncomfortable until morning.
[ Faraday may lose the rest of the burrs when he turns back into a man, but that's a few hours of the nasty little prickles wedging their way into Faraday's fur. ]
[ Vasquez absolutely doesn't expect Faraday to just sit still and do nothing – mostly because he doubts Faraday is even capable of it.
Kneeling beside the wolf, Vasquez parts his fur, finding a bundle of burrs to start working out. He hisses in sympathy through his teeth as he starts to free Faraday's fur bit by bit, finally pulling out a pair of the spikes. ]
You're lucky you usually change before these get too deep, perrito. You might end up with bald patches, otherwise.
[ Faraday isn't capable of grumbling in this form, but he still manages a close approximation of it. It comes out as more of a low, rumbling growl, though it lacks any hint of malice.
He spits out a couple of broken spikelets before working on a burr worrying close to the space between his toes. He interrupts his own work with a yelp when Vasquez tugs too sharply too sharply for Faraday's liking, and he whips his head around to glare at the other man.
[ Vasquez doesn't draw back entirely, but he lifts up one hand, palm out. ]
I told you: these go deep. You want to see this mess yourself?
[ He's parted Faraday's fur to get at the nasty little collection of big burrs tangled up in Faraday's undercoat, and he was in the process of trying to separate a pair that's wedged in just the right way to yank at two different tufts of fur. ]
[ Faraday can only crane his neck so much to see what Vasquez is working with, but when he realizes Vasquez does, in fact, have a good reason for the rough handling—
... admittedly, Faraday still doesn't seem particularly satisfied with the reasoning, but he at least doesn't snap at Vasquez's hands, as he seemed inclined to a second ago. ]
[ Vasquez just gives him a helpless (if unapologetic) shrug. ]
You did this to yourself, you know. Not my fault it hurts to undo it.
[ He manages to hold Faraday's fur down as he pulls out one of the burrs, trying not to tug too badly at his skin.
In the far distance, paws meet the sandy grit of the desert plane. Vasquez notices them at the very hind of his senses, but he's used to hearing the varied wildlife around them.
[ He grumbles again – or at least, offers his closest approximation of it – but lets Vasquez go back to his work.
He picks out a few more burrs from his front legs for a while, but his ears perk at the sound of heavy weight on shifting sand. At first, Faraday doesn't pay it much mind. After a few minutes, when he realizes the footsteps are growing closer, Faraday finally stops, lifting his head, scenting at the air.
The wolf affords him a few heightened senses, and this close to the full moon, they're heightened to an almost painful degree. He tenses as he takes in the scent of dry air and sand, the distinct smell of night. The strange, warm scent from Vasquez.
And then, something distant, but distinctly other. ]
[ At first, Vasquez barely pays Faraday’s sniffing any mind; he assumes the wolf caught the scent of a rabbit or similar.
Until Faraday goes tense, until he’s truly trying to scent something.
Vasquez pauses, letting his hands fall from Faraday’s fur to look around. ]
What is it, perrito?
[ He pushes himself upright, taking the opportunity to try and catch the strange new scent. It’s... familiar, but he can’t recognize it – other than to think it reminds him an awful lot of Faraday. ]
[ Faraday recognizes the scent immediately – marks it as something metallic and earthy and bitter – and while Faraday reads it as werewolf, the wolf in him reads it as challenge.
With the full moon as close as it is, with the wolf being so close to the surface, sometimes the wolf's instincts take over. He's on his feet before he realizes it, entire body rigid as he goes on full alert, and a low, warning growl rumbles out from him.
His eyesight isn't quite as good as Vasquez's, in this form or otherwise, but he aims himself in the general direction of where the scent seems strongest. ]
Vasquez looks out across the desert, his eyes narrowing in the dark, and he finally hones in on the small, fluffy blot moving across the sand. On all fours, it lopes like Faraday, pressed low to the ground, heading in their direction. It isn't moving quickly, and while it strides with purpose, there's no underlying intention of hunting – probably because there's no way it would slip Faraday and Vasquez's notice long enough to get so close.
Vasquez rests a hand on his belt – where the silver chain lies, waiting. He's armed with silver bullets, but he rarely keeps them loaded in his revolver, for the pure sake of refusing to waste them. ]
[ One of Faraday's ears twitch in Vasquez's direction at the question, and his growling quiets a little as he considers it.
The other wolf seems to be moving toward them, though whether that means they intend to simply pass on or they intend to confront the two men is anyone's guess.
In answer, Faraday takes a couple of steps toward the other wolf before he pauses, turning back to look at Vasquez. His gaze drops meaningfully toward Vasquez's revolvers. ]
[ Vasquez follows Faraday's gaze to his belt, and he hums in low agreement. ]
A good point, perro.
[ He draws one gun from its holster, flicking open the cylinder to drop the normal bullets back into his pouch. He plucks the silver ones out in their stead, dropping them into each chamber.
With the gun properly loaded, he deposits it back into his belt, his hand resting snugly on the butt.
The wolf is far enough off that Vasquez easily has the few brief moments to prepare, and as he relaxes into waiting, the other werewolf trots into view. It finally pauses when bright yellow eyes settle on Vasquez and Faraday, and it lowers its head, looking curiously between them. ]
... Can you talk to it?
[ This, to Faraday as Vasquez holds steady.
The other wolf growls a low bark, and while Vasquez hears nothing else, it translates in a different frequency for Faraday. ]
He's never encountered another werewolf before – not willingly, anyway, and the night he was bitten hardly counts. He's not entirely sure what to expect – whether he's right to be on his guard, or whether he ought to feel some sense of relief in finally encountering someone carrying the same curse.
For now, he's alert, eyes wide and ears pressed forward, muscles coiled and ready to move. When the wolf finally steps within spitting distance, Faraday makes no move toward it, unconsciously angling himself in front of Vasquez.
Vasquez claims to be mostly indestructible – save for the unlikely application of obsidian – but Faraday's seen what happens to Vasquez when he gets on the wolf's bad side. Maybe Vasquez hasn't died from it yet, but Faraday is still inclined to believe it's a distinct possibility.
When the other wolf barks, Faraday stiffens with surprise. It's not speaking, obviously, but Faraday still understood, nonetheless.
[ Faraday tracks the other wolf's movements, mirroring them to keep himself between the other wolf and Vasquez.
Faraday is distrustful, as a rule; it could be that the other wolf is simply curious. Maybe in a different moment, Faraday would find himself elated by the prospect of finding another werewolf, of having someone to commiserate with, of having someone to learn from.
The other wolf seems to have a leg up on him, after all. Faraday didn't even realize communicating in this way was possible, yet the other wolf started this conversation without even a second's hesitation. ]
We're not interested in any trouble, friend, so if that's your aim, I suggest continuin' on your way.
[ Vasquez is suddenly keenly aware of what it's like being on the other side of a language he can't understand; unlike Spanish, however, he can't learn this one.
He can respond to Faraday's body language, the tension in the set of his shoulders. ]
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gomen for my short mess
After the fourth moon, Vasquez feels fairly confident in their ability to set down out of the way, and unlike the hellish first few encounters, he isn't near so worried about the way he or some innocent bystander might end the night.
The wolf may thoroughly cull the local prey population, but human casualties aren't a concern.
Tomorrow is the night of the full moon.
Vasquez and Faraday have made camp just inside a system of caves. It's small, with one way in and out (that they've found), and it looks out across the broad expanse of the desert they've been traversing for the past week. The land is broken up by rising rock formations, mountain ranges on both sides in the far distance, and a whole lot of flat.
Belatedly, as Vasquez looks out at the desert beyond, he realizes this is somewhat ideal for keeping an eye on the wolf during a full moon. The wolf can get far, but Vasquez should be able to watch him for a while before he might even have to consider following after.
Maybe he won't end tomorrow night with so much flesh between the wolf's jaws.
It's not uncommon for the pair to go out in the night after Faraday's change. They hunt or wander – not too far from camp – to see what they can expect from their surroundings.
After they've both had a dinner of coyotes, they trek back to the caves, the quiet night broken only by the chirp of crickets and the fall of Vasquez's boots; the wolf's paws go nearly silent in the sandy dirt. Vasquez is mindful of the plant life, but some of it is tall and prickly. Burrs stick to his chaps, and as he's about to mention it to Faraday, he can hear the wolf's fur brush right through the stickery plants. ]
Perro...?
[ He grimaces in sympathy as he casts a glance back to Faraday. ]
Did you manage to walk around las rebabas?
no subject
Whatever the case, Faraday still worries, because this curse has been nothing but a worry, but he's at least a little more certain of Vasquez's ability to come out alive on the other side.
The change is rough, as it always is when they draw closer to the full moon, like the wolf knows its time is coming, and it grows more impatient with each passing night.
This bit of land they've staked out is convenient, to say the least; devoid of people, which means Faraday has little to worry about, come the night of the full moon, but filled with enough prey that he hopes it should keep the wolf occupied enough to hold its attention – maybe long enough to keep its sights off Vasquez, though Faraday admits that's just wishful thinking.
The plant life isn't quite as bothersome for Faraday – at least, not immediately. His fur in this form is thick enough that when the burrs and barbs sink in, he doesn't take note until they're good and buried into his undercoat. By that point, he has to struggle with picking them out with his teeth, hoping he doesn't just tangle them in further.
On the bright side, come morning, the mess should slough off with his fur. It's about the only convenience the transformation affords him.
When Vasquez pauses, looking back at him with that wince, Faraday's head tilts. Sure enough, his coat his covered in burrs and foxtail spikelets.
His eyes narrow, though, and he snorts out a breath.
You know I don't know what that means. ]
no subject
Demonstration, then.
The wolf is tall enough that Vasquez can reach out without stretching to find a goathead trying to burrow itself into Faraday’s coat. He gives it a pointed tug – and, as if to make a point, the damned thing only yanks at the fur. ]
The burrs, perrito.
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Coulda just said that.
He turns his head, letting out another unhappy groan when he finally sees the state of his coat, and he bites at another burr, tugging it free from his fur before spitting it to the ground. ]
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Ay, let me help. I can work them out before they tangle deeper.
[ He may have inelegantly yanked at the last one, but he does have the benefit of fingers; he can work the fur out of the stickers without just grabbing a handful or chewing at them. ]
no subject
At Vasquez's offer, Faraday lets out a resigned huff. Vasquez stands a better chance of getting the stickers out of his fur, and if he can't, then he's at least got the benefit of being able to use a knife to cut them out, if it comes to it.
He lets out a low, warning grunt – if Vasquez means to just yank his fur out... ]
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Have a sit. I'll get the worst out, so you're not too uncomfortable until morning.
[ Faraday may lose the rest of the burrs when he turns back into a man, but that's a few hours of the nasty little prickles wedging their way into Faraday's fur. ]
no subject
He's also, apparently, not content to sit and wait. He lifts his front paw, picking at the spikelets on his leg. ]
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Kneeling beside the wolf, Vasquez parts his fur, finding a bundle of burrs to start working out. He hisses in sympathy through his teeth as he starts to free Faraday's fur bit by bit, finally pulling out a pair of the spikes. ]
You're lucky you usually change before these get too deep, perrito. You might end up with bald patches, otherwise.
no subject
He spits out a couple of broken spikelets before working on a burr worrying close to the space between his toes. He interrupts his own work with a yelp when Vasquez tugs too sharply too sharply for Faraday's liking, and he whips his head around to glare at the other man.
The hell are you doing back there? ]
no subject
I told you: these go deep. You want to see this mess yourself?
[ He's parted Faraday's fur to get at the nasty little collection of big burrs tangled up in Faraday's undercoat, and he was in the process of trying to separate a pair that's wedged in just the right way to yank at two different tufts of fur. ]
no subject
... admittedly, Faraday still doesn't seem particularly satisfied with the reasoning, but he at least doesn't snap at Vasquez's hands, as he seemed inclined to a second ago. ]
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You did this to yourself, you know. Not my fault it hurts to undo it.
[ He manages to hold Faraday's fur down as he pulls out one of the burrs, trying not to tug too badly at his skin.
In the far distance, paws meet the sandy grit of the desert plane. Vasquez notices them at the very hind of his senses, but he's used to hearing the varied wildlife around them.
For now, he doesn't even pay attention. ]
no subject
He picks out a few more burrs from his front legs for a while, but his ears perk at the sound of heavy weight on shifting sand. At first, Faraday doesn't pay it much mind. After a few minutes, when he realizes the footsteps are growing closer, Faraday finally stops, lifting his head, scenting at the air.
The wolf affords him a few heightened senses, and this close to the full moon, they're heightened to an almost painful degree. He tenses as he takes in the scent of dry air and sand, the distinct smell of night. The strange, warm scent from Vasquez.
And then, something distant, but distinctly other. ]
no subject
Until Faraday goes tense, until he’s truly trying to scent something.
Vasquez pauses, letting his hands fall from Faraday’s fur to look around. ]
What is it, perrito?
[ He pushes himself upright, taking the opportunity to try and catch the strange new scent. It’s... familiar, but he can’t recognize it – other than to think it reminds him an awful lot of Faraday. ]
no subject
With the full moon as close as it is, with the wolf being so close to the surface, sometimes the wolf's instincts take over. He's on his feet before he realizes it, entire body rigid as he goes on full alert, and a low, warning growl rumbles out from him.
His eyesight isn't quite as good as Vasquez's, in this form or otherwise, but he aims himself in the general direction of where the scent seems strongest. ]
no subject
Vasquez looks out across the desert, his eyes narrowing in the dark, and he finally hones in on the small, fluffy blot moving across the sand. On all fours, it lopes like Faraday, pressed low to the ground, heading in their direction. It isn't moving quickly, and while it strides with purpose, there's no underlying intention of hunting – probably because there's no way it would slip Faraday and Vasquez's notice long enough to get so close.
Vasquez rests a hand on his belt – where the silver chain lies, waiting. He's armed with silver bullets, but he rarely keeps them loaded in his revolver, for the pure sake of refusing to waste them. ]
You want to wait for it?
no subject
The other wolf seems to be moving toward them, though whether that means they intend to simply pass on or they intend to confront the two men is anyone's guess.
In answer, Faraday takes a couple of steps toward the other wolf before he pauses, turning back to look at Vasquez. His gaze drops meaningfully toward Vasquez's revolvers. ]
no subject
A good point, perro.
[ He draws one gun from its holster, flicking open the cylinder to drop the normal bullets back into his pouch. He plucks the silver ones out in their stead, dropping them into each chamber.
With the gun properly loaded, he deposits it back into his belt, his hand resting snugly on the butt.
The wolf is far enough off that Vasquez easily has the few brief moments to prepare, and as he relaxes into waiting, the other werewolf trots into view. It finally pauses when bright yellow eyes settle on Vasquez and Faraday, and it lowers its head, looking curiously between them. ]
... Can you talk to it?
[ This, to Faraday as Vasquez holds steady.
The other wolf growls a low bark, and while Vasquez hears nothing else, it translates in a different frequency for Faraday. ]
Not like you talk, stranger.
no subject
He's never encountered another werewolf before – not willingly, anyway, and the night he was bitten hardly counts. He's not entirely sure what to expect – whether he's right to be on his guard, or whether he ought to feel some sense of relief in finally encountering someone carrying the same curse.
For now, he's alert, eyes wide and ears pressed forward, muscles coiled and ready to move. When the wolf finally steps within spitting distance, Faraday makes no move toward it, unconsciously angling himself in front of Vasquez.
Vasquez claims to be mostly indestructible – save for the unlikely application of obsidian – but Faraday's seen what happens to Vasquez when he gets on the wolf's bad side. Maybe Vasquez hasn't died from it yet, but Faraday is still inclined to believe it's a distinct possibility.
When the other wolf barks, Faraday stiffens with surprise. It's not speaking, obviously, but Faraday still understood, nonetheless.
He offers a tentative bark in return, ]
Who are you, and what do you want?
no subject
The wolf keeps its distance, but it starts to pace slowly in a horizontal line, never taking its eyes off of Faraday. ]
The same as you, I would think. This land doesn't smell like yours, so you're just passing through, aren't you?
[ So much for answering the first part of that question. ]
no subject
[ Faraday tracks the other wolf's movements, mirroring them to keep himself between the other wolf and Vasquez.
Faraday is distrustful, as a rule; it could be that the other wolf is simply curious. Maybe in a different moment, Faraday would find himself elated by the prospect of finding another werewolf, of having someone to commiserate with, of having someone to learn from.
The other wolf seems to have a leg up on him, after all. Faraday didn't even realize communicating in this way was possible, yet the other wolf started this conversation without even a second's hesitation. ]
We're not interested in any trouble, friend, so if that's your aim, I suggest continuin' on your way.
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Who is "we?" What are you traveling with, friend?
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Don't see how that's any of your business, especially considerin' as how I hardly know you from Adam.
no subject
[ Vasquez is suddenly keenly aware of what it's like being on the other side of a language he can't understand; unlike Spanish, however, he can't learn this one.
He can respond to Faraday's body language, the tension in the set of his shoulders. ]
So what is it? Smells like old blood.
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