Chapter 30. Beat of the Woods.
It might have been rude to mark Sid as a beast but damn you should have heard those noises he made. The man was part monster, somewhere deep inside. Not a metaphorical monster either. Well, he might have some kind of that sense about him too, but no, that man held a secret.
Something sinister and dark kept under a tight lock and key, just like his masters’ relics in that glorious chest.
Not only that but only a dumb animal would attack a pack of vampires. That though, that wasn’t just an attack, he completely slaughtered them all. It was an absolute mess back there. The forest floor should have a lush regrowth though, much like after a forest fire.
Well—he didn’t know how that goop stuff worked he was just being positive about things. The thought of Sid kicking the asses of those vampires cheered him up.
He had to hurry and find him. Bring him back to help his master. The squeaking moan of that wheel raged on. Screaming louder and faster.
He tried his damn hardest to block out all the noise. That lonely left ear tuned in. Picking up on a frequency, before the air transmitted a clear calling.
A gruff voice. It was faint and trailing, but it was the right one. A sound he didn’t think could be relieving. Like the trumpets of reinforcement. That heavy voice sang of salvation, ringing through the timbers. It was a delivery of revelations.
He focused on that calling. Leading his speed wagon in a new direction. He wasn’t one to disobey his master, but there was a vibration in the pines that told him to follow. So, he did.
He couldn’t be sure of it, but it also looked to be true for other animals too. It was possible they could all just be running from the excitement produced by his master and that gross Butcher, but he wasn’t about to ask. It was jubilating though. That feeling of all of them running in the same direction together.
That moment of heralding redemption faded. That squeaky wail slowed upon seeing that heaving fleshy man. Lifting one mental arm at a time, smashing it down.
Gods he was angrier than ever. Not just angry this man was livid. Every star in Outrage was being applied. Extra pairs in Fury had to of been glowing brightly. It was those stars in Strength though that activated that star of Intimidation.
There was just a radiating heat that flow from that round man. It was an enraged silhouette that beat at the grounds.
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Sid was fucking pissed about something.
Arieo wasn’t sure if he even wanted to approach. Why was he punching the mud like that—oh that wasn’t mud.
Flinching whenever his thick fist smashed into that lumpy mess. The sound was horrendous. Like his masters’ boots getting caught in a swamp. That moist release was shuddering.
-splat—splat—splat-
He was the only one among the fleeing who stopped to watch that big man beat down. Blinking unevenly, much like the punching rhythm he witnessed.
It was just a disaster right there. Right at that man’s kneeling. May the Stallitusks take pity on Sid. Whatever that man was fighting with must have been just—just rueful. Even from where Arieo parked. He could feel the shame with every thud. The power that man beckoned was terrifying. The tremor in his exalted breaths even held a taunt of their own.
-splat—splat—splat-
Hold on—there was another energy here. It was nice. Calming. Relaxing. It was a bold star of Tranquility. A soothing star of Serenity. Probably the clearest star humming he’d ever heard. It was pleasant. It made the carnage of the moment—worse.
He didn’t like this joyous motion, it was draining. Like the after bite of vigilance. Vengeance isn’t as sweet as everyone implies it to be. Maybe it’s an acquired taste, but maybe it’s deeper than what his master always says ‘it never brings em back. No matter how manys ye expel. It just be a feelin that whips internally’
-splat—splat—splat-
That presence was standing with him now. He could feel it. Glancing away from that angry flesh ball, Arieo looked at the shadow beside him.
It was not his own. It was too small. Not that this was a tiny shadow, but his body had more mass than that.
Those perfect whites looked into his eyes. It was this wolf. That warm serenity was radiating from this wolf—why? His master says these things eat man, hunt donkeys. These creatures were pioneers of hunting. Why was it not biting for him? Why did he feel safer standing with this pup, rather than over there with Sid beating his fists into the muck of his creating.
Arieo and that wolf-pup. No—wait what was it Sid was calling him—Fenrir. The two just held a gentle stare of deliverance. It was an uncovering intent look. Like the two had just shared life stories. Commiserating one another with slow blinks. That pup had an irregular blink. Like it had multiple eyelids.
-splat—splat—splat-
Fenrir was a good boy. He didn’t want to eat donkeys, not him anyways, Arieo could sense that.
No, this baby didn’t want to harm anyone. He wasn’t a creature of war. He was a being of safeguard. The humming star of Aid was deep and vivid. Not death and destruction. Those teeth though. Fenrir might not be a creature of conflict but could clearly chew his way through if needed.
-splat—splat—splat-
The two animals of utterly different species were the only witnesses of the depression taking place.
Fists glazed over like that of a couple demented honey wands, dripping with malice, splashing regret in all directions. Should he stop him or let the rage flow. Sometimes it’s good to let it out. This though, looked to be more than just a stress-fed bad day.
The energy behind those balled-up hands was far more than just the release of a long-tested week. This was the shattering of that self-bottling trauma. This man—Sid. He just might be sick.
