[ 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. ]
[ Butch snarls with a vicious tinge of rage, but Vasquez's eyes bleed over black, his lips pulling away from the fine points of his fangs. The wolf doesn't cower, but he continues growling as he puts more distance between them, then finally turns tail and bolts across the dusty plain.
Vasquez is tempted to follow him, to run him down, but from the faint edge of his awareness, he can tell Faraday isn't getting right back up.
Going after a useless animal isn't worth the effort.
Vasquez waits until Butch disappears in the distance, then turns to Faraday, stepping closer and kneeling down beside him. ]
[ Faraday has rolled onto his good hip in the meantime, keeping his weight off his bad leg. He looks like a mess – with burrs still in his coat, and patches of his fur standing at odd angles from wrestling with the other wolf.
There's a relatively clean bite mark on his thigh, and though blood soaks into his fur, the wound seems superficial. The effort and exertion from the tussle are probably the main factors in his leg refusing to cooperate.
He licks at the wound on instinct, trying to clear up some of the blood. ]
[ Instinctively, Faraday rocks up into that little gesture of comfort. It's familiar enough by now that he hardly thinks about it – though whether he doesn't think about it is by choice or by ignorance is anyone's guess.
At Vasquez's question, Faraday nods, the movement subdued enough to avoid dislodging Vasquez's hand. Slowly, he gets his paws back under him, though he keeps his bad leg pulled up close to his body. ]
[ It's slow going returning to the network of caves, with Faraday hobbled as he is. All the while, Faraday keeps his ears perked for any telltale signs of pursuit, sniffing at the air for the scent of unfamiliar blood that might signal Butch's arrival.
Thankfully, Butch must've considered himself soundly beat – or at least, valued the idea of his skin remaining attached to his body – and they return without further incident. Faraday limps his way over to his bedroll and promptly collapses onto it. ]
[ Faraday's only response is a low, displeased rumble.
Aside from the nights where loses his mind entirely, it's been ages since he's been in a brawl – and wolf or otherwise, he's displeased to find how sorely out of practice he is, to find how badly his wounds have hindered him, mostly healed as they are.
[ After a moment of pause, Vasquez realizes: Faraday is sulking. It's almost funny – watching a wolf cling to a sour mood – but Vasquez is also distracted by the wound Faraday is nursing. After the fight with Bogue and all manner of other scuffles, Vasquez is more accustomed to things that don't even manage to break the wolf's skin (other than silver).
Butch bit right into Faraday's leg like it was as tender as a cooked chicken wing.
It makes sense, Vasquez reasons, that Faraday might be affected by his same kind, but that's no more a comfort than any other part of the encounter.
The fire sparks to life, and Vasquez tucks away his tinderbox. He pushes himself up to his feet, going over to drop next to Faraday on his bedroll. ]
So... [ Vasquez removes his hat, dusting is off. ]
[ At that bit of commentary, Faraday almost immediately lifts his head and starts snarling and barking, having apparently forgotten that Vasquez can't actually understand him. In another moment, it might've been a rant filled with the sort of curses that would blight an entire field.
Silly, how quickly that short time with Butch has apparently spoiled him. ]
[ Vasquez's brows progressively inch up his forehead the longer Faraday keeps barking out what would, to other ears, surely be a fully formed cursing-out.
It's probably impressive, in context.
He leans his elbow on his knee, propping up his cheek as he lets Faraday go on.
After Faraday seems to be trailing off, Vasquez finally supplies, ]
[ He snorts out a breath once he realizes how utterly lost that tirade was on Vasquez – though the tone of it is less chagrined and more conclusive, as if he means to tell the other man, "I said what I said." ]
[ It's funny, Faraday might think in a better moment, that the only reason he's so used to this bit of contact is because Vasquez offered it when Faraday was out of his mind with pain and desperately latched onto any small bit of comfort he could.
It took weeks for him to get to this point, where he could simply exist without regretting it, which means he's had weeks to grow accustomed to Vasquez's presence and his touch – enough so that the absence of either would be truly out of the ordinary.
Vasquez's question earns a quick, decisive nod, and Faraday jerks his head a little toward the mouth of the cave, though given that his gaze is aimed upward, he seems to be indicating the sky.
[ With the amount of time Vasquez has spent with Faraday in this form, he understands the wordless gratitude for what it is. He scratches the top of Faraday's head, almost in acknowledgment, before his fingers shift down to rub under his jaw – the same absent affection as always. ]
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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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Vasquez is tempted to follow him, to run him down, but from the faint edge of his awareness, he can tell Faraday isn't getting right back up.
Going after a useless animal isn't worth the effort.
Vasquez waits until Butch disappears in the distance, then turns to Faraday, stepping closer and kneeling down beside him. ]
How is the leg, perrito?
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There's a relatively clean bite mark on his thigh, and though blood soaks into his fur, the wound seems superficial. The effort and exertion from the tussle are probably the main factors in his leg refusing to cooperate.
He licks at the wound on instinct, trying to clear up some of the blood. ]
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Without even thinking about it, Vasquez reaches out to set his hand between Faraday's ears, rubbing gently through his fur. ]
You think you can walk back?
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At Vasquez's question, Faraday nods, the movement subdued enough to avoid dislodging Vasquez's hand. Slowly, he gets his paws back under him, though he keeps his bad leg pulled up close to his body. ]
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Come on. We get back and you can let it heal up, hm?
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Thankfully, Butch must've considered himself soundly beat – or at least, valued the idea of his skin remaining attached to his body – and they return without further incident. Faraday limps his way over to his bedroll and promptly collapses onto it. ]
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Mercifully, their slow trek goes uninterrupted, all the way back to the caves.
As Faraday goes to flop down, Vasquez heads over to get a fire started, glancing back at Faraday with a somewhat wry smile. ]
You still want help with those burrs, perro?
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Aside from the nights where loses his mind entirely, it's been ages since he's been in a brawl – and wolf or otherwise, he's displeased to find how sorely out of practice he is, to find how badly his wounds have hindered him, mostly healed as they are.
Faraday isn't used to losing, it seems. ]
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Butch bit right into Faraday's leg like it was as tender as a cooked chicken wing.
It makes sense, Vasquez reasons, that Faraday might be affected by his same kind, but that's no more a comfort than any other part of the encounter.
The fire sparks to life, and Vasquez tucks away his tinderbox. He pushes himself up to his feet, going over to drop next to Faraday on his bedroll. ]
So... [ Vasquez removes his hat, dusting is off. ]
Quite a bastard, no?
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Silly, how quickly that short time with Butch has apparently spoiled him. ]
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It's probably impressive, in context.
He leans his elbow on his knee, propping up his cheek as he lets Faraday go on.
After Faraday seems to be trailing off, Vasquez finally supplies, ]
I didn't get any of that, my friend.
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Vasquez huffs out a laugh, setting his hat aside and reaching out to run his fingers down Faraday's shoulders, almost absently petting him.
(Something he obviously wouldn't do out of hand when Faraday was in his human form, but it's hard to resist like this.) ]
You think he will be trouble again?
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It took weeks for him to get to this point, where he could simply exist without regretting it, which means he's had weeks to grow accustomed to Vasquez's presence and his touch – enough so that the absence of either would be truly out of the ordinary.
Vasquez's question earns a quick, decisive nod, and Faraday jerks his head a little toward the mouth of the cave, though given that his gaze is aimed upward, he seems to be indicating the sky.
Not tonight, he's trying to say. Tomorrow night.
During the full moon. ]
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The moon beaming overhead, nearly full.
Vasquez frowns, something more serious setting in. ]
Do you want me to follow closer tomorrow?
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The wolf form doesn't allow Faraday to be quite as expressive as he is during the daylight hours.
Even so, Faraday still somehow manages to convey what he's thinking:
Are you goddamn insane?
Following closer is the exact last thing Vasquez ought to do. Bad enough there's one feral wolf trying to eat him; contending with two is suicidal. ]
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Vasquez lifts his free hand in a truncated shrug. ]
To make sure he stays away from you.
[ And, thoughtfully, ]
And I do not care about shooting him, so...
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That's an astoundingly fair point, Faraday wants to say. ]
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[ Vasquez reaches up to give one of Faraday's ears the faintest, barest of tugs before scratching behind it. ]
Him? I will pump him full of silver before he has a chance to get close.
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This, in place of a proper thank you. It seems the least he owes Vasquez for hauling Butch off him. ]
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Is the leg healing, perrito?
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