Open Post

[bardische]

Comments

[bardische]

[ Basch’s ears, however, shoot up, a growl back in his throat as his head whips toward the disturbance, nose up to the air for the scent.

And then he’s off Olivine, hackles up and tail bottlebrushed, snarling with every tooth bared, angling toward the scent of the encroaching monster.

And the moment it enters the clearing, he lunges, aiming for throat. This monster is fast though, and instead he lands on arm, growing as he clamps down, blood under his teeth.

But the monster is strong, and it manages to throw him down, a claw lightly grazing his side and pulling bright blood onto his fur. ]

[massochism]

Wait—

[the other moves and Olivine is quick to recover in turn, pushing himself up to follow. most of the creatures here aren't so bad, especially for something Basch's wolf size, but he can't help worrying anyway.

thankfully, that worry at least has him up and ready when the other lunges, gathering essence in hand to use as soon as he's sure of what's needed. that turns out to be more defensive than not, though he's too late to prevent the injury altogether. the warmth of his magic hasn't changed at all, though it forms a protective barrier rather than healing him immediately.

he's trying not to panic at the sight of blood soaking light fur, knows that the other is strong enough to have gotten along without him before, but...]

Don't rush...

[it's at least partly for himself, because if he rushes then they could both get seriously injured. at least the creature isn't much bigger than Basch, just fast and vicious—fairly standard for Olivine, but probably new to the werewolf.]

[bardische]

[ His thoughts are narrow and hazy, single-minded to protecting his mate. But some piece of Olivine’s voice penetrates. Basch rights himself and stands his ground, shaking blood and dirt from his fur as he continues to snarl. The magic around him is as familiar as the voice. It’s calming, but it also makes him that much more determined to protect what is his.

He stalks, slowly, drawing the attention of the creature. He never would have rushed in if he were even marginally in his right mind. Even as a calm wolf, he’d have been more strategic. But now he snarls, watches, dares it to try to get a step closer to Olivine. ]

[massochism]

[there's the smallest exhale of relief as Basch settles even that little bit, and he watches the monster now. almost ironically, he's more suited to support than attack—though he's clearly no slouch in that department either. for now then, his focus shifts to healing the other's wounds, gaze flicking to the creature as he does.

God, but he wishes he could speak to him directly. sure, the werewolf seems to understand him, but he can't define exactly what happened to this point, or what he needs, or... anything like it. the only truly clear thing is how protective he is, waiting for movement.

which does happen eventually. Olivine presents a much more convenient-seeming target, and it had already batted Basch away once, so perhaps that makes it bolder still. there's not much in the way of time to move, then, though he's pretty sure he'll be able to dodge at least one or two hits to save the other some worry.]

[bardische]

[ The magic is soothing. His wounds were honestly not bad, but the familiar feeling of Olivine's magic after the empty, lonely hole he's felt as a wolf but hasn't understood is like water quenching dehydration.

But it only makes him that much more determined to protect.

The monster lunges, and Basch is on it, using his body weight to slam into the other. It gets a light swipe at Olivine as its sent staggering.

Basch presses his advantage, slamming into its other leg before tackling it by the chest. Where he'd been somewhat gentle with Olivine, now his all teeth and claw. If he were human, he would have anticipated that being entangled with this monster would make Olivine's magic harder to target. But he's not thinking strategically. He just wants this thing down and dead, and it's doing its best to do the same to him. ]

[massochism]

[it's definitely made harder by the positioning, plus the fact that Olivine isn't entirely used to working with others. but for right now, he's just shifting his intentions to bolstering Basch—soothing wounds, and drawing up a sort of protective "coating" when he can. the magic feels weaker than he likes, he thinks, but he's been using it for a while so it's not that surprising...

the thing can't escape him, and hopefully can't hurt him enough to risk him dying, and so the priest just has to trust that his wolf will win this. it's an uncertainty that twists terribly in his gut, even trusting him as he does.]

[bardische]

[ That magic bolsters him, and so does the smell of Olivine's worry. Not panic, but enough distress to make him downright feral.

He gains the upper hand, and the moment he has a clear shot, he sinks his teeth in...ripping out the monster's throat. It's a messy business, terrible sounds, blood spattering on his fur. He holds down while it thrashes. Claws catch him, but he holds fast.

And then, nothing. Just his own panting. ]

[massochism]

[The whole thing is far more visceral in this moment, the guttural noises and the struggle of the creature as it dies. It's true enough that Olivine is also used to the idea of it, but there's still a part of him that flinches away from this side of it all.

Maybe it's more to do with a sense that he... well, didn't cause this, but certainly acted as part of the catalyst. The splattering of blood, the awful rip of flesh, all without reverence in the least. It's all necessity, until everything quiets and there's just the sound of panting breaths.

Finally, he manages to make his body move, fully intending to look Basch over and heal any injuries.]

... thank you...

[quiet. Concerned. Olivine could have handled the creature, but he's grateful for the help even if it caused more injuries to the werewolf.]

[bardische]

[ Danger passed, his mind starts to calm. But now he's aware of...at the very least being dirty. Something like shame hazes his vision, and the desire to curl up with Olivine wars with the desire to bolt.

He whines, leaving the messy carcass, and goes to roll in the grass, trying to get the worst of it off himself. Cuts and muscles ache, but its nothing terrible.

And when he's as done as he can, he rolls back all fours, lying his head down low, ears back and wagging his tail, another whine in his throat. Submissive and docile.

It's Olivine's choice if he still wants to approach. That's what Basch can give him. ]

[massochism]

[giving the other the time to clean up as he can, Olivine takes a moment to also sort his own thoughts. He's always felt a little hypocritical, being more negatively affected by this than pain to himself—even if it does make sense enough.

But those thoughts leave him as Basch whines again, and he can't help but smile as he approaches, sitting down with him and reaching to rub the base of his ears. He doesn't speak yet, just working to ease the ache of muscle and torn flesh, pale hands stained red when they draw downward to help him clean up without hesitation.

He's alright... he's alright. Safe. That's enough for Olivine.]

[bardische]

[ His tongue lolls, eyes falling half-lidded as Olivine scratches the base of his ears. The only reason he doesn’t roll on his side is those hands continuing to search him.

They come away with blood. Basch whines again, licking at the mess.

Called, his thoughts are a little clearer. Relief. Sadness. Worry. Affection. He aches to curl around his human, to hold him, to go home to their nest. ]

[massochism]

It's alright.

[the words are spoken soothingly as Basch licks at the mess, pausing just briefly. it's a risk, sure, but... if he's honest, Olivine just wants him back. wolf or not, dangerous or not, being without him had been hard.]

Will you come back with me? [there's no pressure to the question, and no pause in his caring for the werewolf. it's the same as every other offer he's made—earnest, welcoming, but never presumptive.] We can get you washed up first, of course. I just... don't like the idea of you having to be out here alone.

[bardische]

[ Calming under the other’s presence, he understands the speech a little better. He whines again, tail wagging as he butts against Olivine’s hand.

Human him would object. Wolf him is not about to let his precious mate out of his watch.

That and even his wolf heart feels lighter. It was a myth that wolves were solitary. He could manage, but now that he had tasted not being alone, it was much harder to elect back to it. That was something he’d have to confront when his mind fully returned. ]

[massochism]

[it provides a deep sense of relief, the way he butts against Olivine's hand. sure, they'll probably have to talk about it more directly when this ends, but... for now, this is all he needs.

warm fingers press to the base of his ears, scritching fondly before he's shifting to move.]

This way, then. We should be safe to get to the water now.

[and after that... after that, he'll just have to calm any villagers who are worried about a wolf following him back home. most of them shouldn't be, if anyone is even out.]

[bardische]

[ He barks lightly in affirmation, pushing back on his haunches and rising with Olivine. He's large, larger than a wolf should be and he stays close, such that Olivine's hand natural falls against his head or back. It's as much for his own desire to be close as it is for the lingering sense of protection.

His thoughts continue to feel clearer, like Olivine's presence is reminding him of his humanity. They absolutely should not be seen covered in blood. That much he's sure of.

And he has a hazy memory of being in the water with Olivine being safe and pleasant.

When they reach it, he'll wait for Olivine to enter with him, but he'll be willing to submerge himself and be washed, assisting Olivine by licking and headbutting, for all the world a docile pup. ]

[massochism]

[His hand continues its gentle movements when it comes to rest against Basch's head and back, an idle familiarity and reassurance both for him. It's really something he didn't realise he needed so badly.

Once they reach the water though, he'll take a moment to remove his top—the pants are thick enough to remain covering even when wet, but the rest? Better not to risk it. For Basch's comfort, it'll also confirm that the worst marks Olivine bears are little pink slivers, no worse than catching himself on a branch.

Once they're submerged, Olivine works in earnest, actions simple and sure. It's not hard to guess that he's bathed other animals before—and probably not surprising, given his nature. But right now all his attention is on the docile pup of a wolf with him, laughing softly when he headbutts or licks. And really, the other ever thought he would be a danger to Olivine...]

Alright... I think that's good.

[There's still a faint metal tinge to the air, but no more colour or remnant clings to sandy fur. The priest has already appeased his own worries in the effort of cleaning, too—no major wounds remain amid all the fur, and he doesn't flinch from any touches. Hands move to rub the space from brows to ears, thumbs massaging as he goes.]

Let's get dried off and head home.

[bardische]

[ He does, in fact, resume his inspection of Olivine, tongue tracing any scratches to be sure, but he's calmed significantly that the other is fine.

And he's absolutely undignified at the other scratches and pets through his fur. It's...heavenly. He's never been pet before, not as a wolf, and now that he's relaxed, his tongue lolls and his tail wags, encouraged by Olivine's laughs.

He's almost sorry its over, but the promise of home makes him quick to escort the other out of the water, never getting too far until they're on land. He only moves away so he can shake his fur without catching Olivine too badly.

He'll stick close to the other's side, noise and ears alert for danger, but his gait and posture are light and happy, ears perked, and he'll periodically look up at Olivine with a doggish grin. ]

[massochism]

[there's always the option to resume when they're settled, of course. Olivine himself isn't thinking past the walk, now that they're finished. and once they're both dry enough, with the priest's shirt pulled back on and his hair let back down from his shoulders, they can begin that trek.

it's quiet now, very possibly because of the very large monster being taken out and that sending a pretty blatant signal to everything in the area. either way, it's easy to keep an eye and ear out and rely on Basch for anything he might have missed. the fact that he's able to look up at him with that doggish grin only makes it more comfortable, and he's happy to reach down and pat him in turn.

night is approaching again by the time they reach the gates, the usual hustle and bustle already wound down as everything settles for the evening. there's a little surprise at seeing the sandy wolf with Olivine, but well... it's Olivine, so they're generally pretty willing to accept his calm.]

[bardische]

[ Basch grows more tense as they approach the city gates, weight sticking closer to Olivine. All of his instincts say to flee, but that hand on his head and back grounds him. It also reminds him how much he doesn’t want to be alone.

So, tail and ears dipping in discomfort, he stays close, doing his best not to growl or look intimidating. It’s difficult to do much for the latter when he’s so large, but not snarling seems a good step.

The smell of panic doesn’t come. Some concern, yes, but the humans seem to be eased by Olivine’s ease. Basch whines lightly, but he follows through the gate, wary of the walls now keeping him in.

But his heart lifts too, recognizing sights and smells and the path home to Olivine’s den. The closer they get, the more dense it is in his scent, and Basch has to clamp down the desire to howl as the depth of his prior loneliness settles over him now that he’s safe. ]

[massochism]

Just a little longer.

[It's a quiet promise in response to that whine, hand maintaining constant contact and gently easing over fur. They're not stopped for more than a brief moment—maybe because there's a sense of purpose to Olivine's gait, maybe because they're not sure what to do with a large wolf they know nothing about. Whatever the case, they make it to the church without much ado.

It's not until they're inside that Olivine's posture droops a little, relief filtering in as he exhales a sigh. Not that he was worried for Basch—this is the same tension that is there whenever he goes out, preparing to try to escape long-winded conversations by any means necessary. That's grown a lot easier with Basch around anyway.]

[bardische]

[ Olivine droops and Basch is at his side, butting against his chest and wagging his tail. This, at least, is a familiar mood to him.

He butts at the other, pushing him back to he bed, and when Olivine is forced to sit or have very uncomfortable legs, Basch puts his heavy head across the other's lap, woofing lightly. It's not unlike the days he orders Olivine to the bed the rub his shoulders or hold him. He just...can't do much like this. ]

[massochism]

Ah—hey—

[despite his verbal protests, Olivine lets himself be pushed over to the bed, exhaling a bemused sigh as he settles on it. it's always good, really, to have confirmation that he hasn't changed at all, but physically.]

I'm fine, you know...

[again his hand drifts down, rubbing and scritching over the werewolf's head and ears before bending down to press his lips to his forehead. you wouldn't think it was the first time they'd been together like this—but then, Olivine is always like this, isn't he. just having the other nearby helps immensely, even if they can't communicate the same way they usually do.]

[bardische]

[ he huffs a heavy canine sigh at Olivine's claim he's fine. But his tail wags, and again his eyes grow heavy with the fingers at his scalp. It feels blissful, sending shivers through him. When Olivine dips to kiss him, he raises his snout, licking at the other's jaw.

He's not entirely himself, but his thoughts are clearer every hour with Olivine. This is good, and safe, and home, but he still longs to be able to hold and kiss the other, or to have them both be wolves and curl around him that way.

Still, he senses the growing ease in Olivine, and it is enough. He moves his head away, only to jump up on the bed, crawling to his usual spot so Olivine will follow. If he were human, he'd insist they eat, but he can't communicate, and the idea of facing the mess hall right now is more than he can really manage, though he wouldn't stop Olivine from going. ]

[massochism]

[no respect at all from this pup. no, but really he's grateful for every passing moment, to not have to worry about whether Basch is safe or injured or hungry. the lick at his jaw earns a warm laugh. and for a bit, he's fine like that. just relaxing in the other's familiar presence and pampering him in a way that feels rare and wonderful, until the other's head moves to release him.

not that he goes far, jumping up onto the bed to settle back where he always would, and Olivine hums softly, stretching absently before turning to join him.]

Are you not hungry? I could get us something to eat... although I don't know if what you can have changes at all like this.

[for now he scoots up to lay beside the wolf, marveling quietly at... well, most everything about him. his size, the sleek sandy fur, the ease with which he maneuvers in this form.]

[bardische]

[ The relief at not worrying about the other is mutual. And his partly-wolf thoughts mean, for once, he just quietly enjoys the affection put on him, because he can tell it pleases Olivine. And because he doesn't have the foresight to stop.

But when he does reposition, his tail wags as Olivine sidles up beside him. He can't answer Olivine's question, and he does wish the other would eat, but he also can't help the impulse to snuggle up beside the other and settle his head on his chest. ]