[ 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. ]
[ The introduction is late, as far as Faraday is concerned, which is why he doesn't return the favor. Butch didn't ask, either, and given the line of questioning, Faraday doubts he's interested. ]
He— [ And the correction comes out as a sharp snarl. ] —ain't none of your concern.
Like I said, Butch. Keep goin' on your way, and we'll keep goin' on ours.
[ Faraday's reaction – that vicious snarl – is so sudden that Vasquez curls his fingers around his gun, though he doesn't draw it from his holster yet.
Butch hisses out another laugh. ]
Ah, but where is your way going? Not much time left before the moon is full; it might be hard to get far enough from each other.
[ Faraday has never had an even temper, even at the best of times, and his sense of patience has never been overly developed. He's not entirely sure why this Butch is rubbing him in exactly the wrong way, but he trusts his own instincts more than anything.
He glances back at Vasquez to catch his attention, gaze sliding past to indicate his intentions of getting the hell away from this conversation.
[ Vasquez catches Faraday's gesture easily, and though his hand doesn't move from his gun, he still readies himself to follow the wolf out. He makes a mental note to ask about what the hell just went down, but while they're still within range of Butch is far from the right time for it. ]
You do the same, stranger.
[ Vasquez's eyes flick from the other wolf to Faraday. ]
[ Faraday nods, though he doesn't make any move to lead the way, intent as he is on keep himself between Vasquez and the other wolf.
There's no doubt in his mind that Vasquez could probably handle himself well, considering he's already dealt with Faraday's wolf, but Faraday doesn't want to take that chance.
It's also not an instinct that he plans on examining closely.
He turns his back on Butch, then, jerking his head to signal Vasquez to head back toward where they made camp. ]
[ Vasquez doesn't need it spelled out for him, and maybe in another circumstance, he might try to brush off Faraday's odd streak of protectiveness. But, right now, he knows plenty well that could easily seem like the wrong shade of weakness in front of another – human or wolf, really.
Stepping forward, without truly drawing his focus from Butch, Vasquez moves to follow the path they'd been trekking back to their camp in the caves.
Butch waits until Vasquez turns, too, waits for both him and Faraday to take those first strides wherever they'd been headed. He still paces, lazily back and forth, for all of another heartbeat before his hind legs coil tight, and in one powerful leap, he propels himself towards Faraday. It's so sudden, so quick, Vasquez doesn't even have time to draw and catch Butch mid-jump; by the time he can react, he's too concerned about hitting Faraday with a stray bullet. ]
[ See, that's exactly the kind of underhanded shit Faraday had been expecting.
Expecting, however, doesn't always translate to preventing.
Butch barrels into Faraday, and for a second, Faraday thinks he might've just been hit by a train. Faraday's bad leg buckles a little in his effort to stay upright, but he manages it. Faraday snarls, whirling around to snap at the other wolf, teeth catching on dense fur as he tries to shove him off. ]
[ It's jarring how suddenly Vasquez feels the flash of concern for Faraday and his bad leg. That strange sense of protectiveness flashes through him, and though he doesn't fire, his gun is in his hand in a heartbeat. ]
Faraday!
[ Butch meets Faraday's vicious snarl with his own, knocked aside by the way Faraday thrashes, those teeth buried in fur. He rears back, trying to wrench away from Faraday as his jaws try to twist and latch onto the leg he saw buckle.
Vasquez curses under his breath, lifting his gun as he tries to find a clear shot between the masses of wrestling fur. ]
[ Faraday lashes out, teeth snapping and spittle flying as he gnashes at the other wolf, vicious and focused all at once.
Still, a handful of months out from Rose Creek means the effects of his injuries are still lingering. He doesn't move as quickly as he wants, and he miscalculates his reach a couple of times, held back by his old wounds.
It's a series of small mistakes, but more than enough for Butch to take advantage of. When his teeth finally clamp down on Faraday's bad leg, Faraday howls as Butch knocks him to the ground. ]
[ The risk of hitting Faraday is more than enough to stay Vasquez's hand. He's a hell of a shot, but he knows the kind of long-lasting effects a silver bullet could have on his traveling companion.
He's not about to roll those dice when he has other options.
Growling, fury building, Vasquez stuffs his gun back into its holster and quickly closes the distance between him and the raging, flying fur. Just as Butch latches onto Faraday's leg, as that howl pierces the night air, Vasquez grabs a fistful of Butch's scruff. His claws elongate instantly, piercing through layers of fur and flesh.
A startled yelp makes Butch release Faraday, and he immediately rounds on Vasquez with a wild flail. Sharp teeth graze Vasquez's thigh without finding purchase, and Vasquez bodily hauls Butch away from Faraday. Butch skids across the dusty sand, scrambling to get his paws back under him – but instead of leaping back at Vasquez or Faraday, he starts retreating, ears pinned to his skull, teeth bared and hackles raised without taking his eyes off of them. ]
[ Faraday pants heavily as Butch's weight is dragged off him, trying to roll back up onto his feet. His bad leg refuses to hold his weight, though, and he's sent right back to the sand.
It's just as well, though, considering Butch doesn't seem inclined to go on the offensive again – not with Vasquez standing between the two of them, his long, impossibly sharp claws still covered in Butch's blood. Faraday pushes himself up onto his two front paws, head hanging low as he tries to catch his breath.
Still, he catches Butch's gaze, his gold eyes flashing in threat and mischief. He lets out hissing sort of breath, something that might almost be a laugh. ]
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... 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. ]
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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?
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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. ]
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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.
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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?
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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. ]
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[ 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.
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[ 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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He— [ And the correction comes out as a sharp snarl. ] —ain't none of your concern.
Like I said, Butch. Keep goin' on your way, and we'll keep goin' on ours.
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Butch hisses out another laugh. ]
Ah, but where is your way going? Not much time left before the moon is full; it might be hard to get far enough from each other.
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[ Faraday has never had an even temper, even at the best of times, and his sense of patience has never been overly developed. He's not entirely sure why this Butch is rubbing him in exactly the wrong way, but he trusts his own instincts more than anything.
He glances back at Vasquez to catch his attention, gaze sliding past to indicate his intentions of getting the hell away from this conversation.
Then, a firm dismissal to the other wolf: ]
Enjoy your evenin', Butch.
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You do the same, stranger.
[ Vasquez's eyes flick from the other wolf to Faraday. ]
Ready?
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There's no doubt in his mind that Vasquez could probably handle himself well, considering he's already dealt with Faraday's wolf, but Faraday doesn't want to take that chance.
It's also not an instinct that he plans on examining closely.
He turns his back on Butch, then, jerking his head to signal Vasquez to head back toward where they made camp. ]
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Stepping forward, without truly drawing his focus from Butch, Vasquez moves to follow the path they'd been trekking back to their camp in the caves.
Butch waits until Vasquez turns, too, waits for both him and Faraday to take those first strides wherever they'd been headed. He still paces, lazily back and forth, for all of another heartbeat before his hind legs coil tight, and in one powerful leap, he propels himself towards Faraday. It's so sudden, so quick, Vasquez doesn't even have time to draw and catch Butch mid-jump; by the time he can react, he's too concerned about hitting Faraday with a stray bullet. ]
no subject
Expecting, however, doesn't always translate to preventing.
Butch barrels into Faraday, and for a second, Faraday thinks he might've just been hit by a train. Faraday's bad leg buckles a little in his effort to stay upright, but he manages it. Faraday snarls, whirling around to snap at the other wolf, teeth catching on dense fur as he tries to shove him off. ]
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Faraday!
[ Butch meets Faraday's vicious snarl with his own, knocked aside by the way Faraday thrashes, those teeth buried in fur. He rears back, trying to wrench away from Faraday as his jaws try to twist and latch onto the leg he saw buckle.
Vasquez curses under his breath, lifting his gun as he tries to find a clear shot between the masses of wrestling fur. ]
no subject
Still, a handful of months out from Rose Creek means the effects of his injuries are still lingering. He doesn't move as quickly as he wants, and he miscalculates his reach a couple of times, held back by his old wounds.
It's a series of small mistakes, but more than enough for Butch to take advantage of. When his teeth finally clamp down on Faraday's bad leg, Faraday howls as Butch knocks him to the ground. ]
no subject
He's not about to roll those dice when he has other options.
Growling, fury building, Vasquez stuffs his gun back into its holster and quickly closes the distance between him and the raging, flying fur. Just as Butch latches onto Faraday's leg, as that howl pierces the night air, Vasquez grabs a fistful of Butch's scruff. His claws elongate instantly, piercing through layers of fur and flesh.
A startled yelp makes Butch release Faraday, and he immediately rounds on Vasquez with a wild flail. Sharp teeth graze Vasquez's thigh without finding purchase, and Vasquez bodily hauls Butch away from Faraday. Butch skids across the dusty sand, scrambling to get his paws back under him – but instead of leaping back at Vasquez or Faraday, he starts retreating, ears pinned to his skull, teeth bared and hackles raised without taking his eyes off of them. ]
no subject
It's just as well, though, considering Butch doesn't seem inclined to go on the offensive again – not with Vasquez standing between the two of them, his long, impossibly sharp claws still covered in Butch's blood. Faraday pushes himself up onto his two front paws, head hanging low as he tries to catch his breath.
Still, he catches Butch's gaze, his gold eyes flashing in threat and mischief. He lets out hissing sort of breath, something that might almost be a laugh. ]
You should probably start runnin'.
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