He couldn’t have chosen a better day to hunt. The breeze was crisp, the air was cool against his spotted skin, not frigid or uncomfortable, but chilled just so, just right, so there was no chance of over-heating should he have to exert himself. The wind played across his skin and tickled the short hairs of his coat, carrying with it the signs of rain- the smell, the chill, the clouds. The sky was overcast and the land was cloaked in a dark shadow that was perfect for a big cat, his eyes crystal clear in the low light, it was his element, he was made for this environment, designed to see in this darkness to stalk through this brush. It was enlightening, he felt invigorated and alive, a shadow in the night, a cat in the dark, it was all where he was supposed to be and how he was supposed to experience it. It was more home to him than any castle would ever be.

He crouched, rolling his thick meaty shoulders against the stiffness caused by the damp air. He’d been stalking a scent for a while now, a rabbit or a woodchuck, he wasn’t keen enough to be sure. But as he crossed a prey trail into a well trafficked area of brush, he found claw marks in the dirt. Definitely a rabbit, he could see clearly places where paddles paws had turned and scampered away. He was close. Immediately, he lowered himself to the ground, dark belly in the mud, ears forward, listening for that sharp inhale, the high pitched whine of breathing. That always gave rabbits away, their breath. His black nose twitched in the wind, it was to his left and he turned, stalking, paws careful to avoid twigs and dried leaves as he moved, a black fluid among the trees.

He was having trouble finding it at first, the brush parting for his big cat body to slip through just in time to reveal a small squat little cabin in the woods. It startled him and he froze. People, hunters, suddenly this stalk became dangerous even for the predator. He was a massive cat, even for a jaguar he was a powerhouse, a sheer force of nature like the storm overhead, even a few men would be fools to cross him in this form. He’d turn them to pulp in mere minutes. But it created a scene, caused bad blood and political problems that the alpha cat simply did not want to have to deal with, to throw gold at later, it was a major annoyance. He should just turn and walk away, find a nice deer or an elk or perhaps go fishing in the lake, it wasn’t worth the risk.

But then, there it was, just a flash of white among the stones, the gentle brush of fur against the wood logs of the cabin’s siding. And just like that he was a man no more, just a hungry animal, a beast in the dark shadow of the wood, a predator, a hunter, a monster. He leapt without thinking, it was foolish, he was much too far away. In an open space, the rabbit would’ve outrun him with ease. But as he leaped forward into a charge, paws pounding the ground in time with the rumbling thunder overhead, a force descending, he realized that the cabin that had caused him such pause was actually his ally in this hunt. The rabbit would have nowhere to go, its choices either to run into the cabin where four walls would only trap it, or try and race to one side, around the building, where turning and maneuvering would render its superior speed useless and the big cat could just cut it off at the turn. It was perfect, he had it.

Three more paces and he’d be upon it, a sheer black wall of force and power and death for the poor thing. He’d feel bad but that was how things went in Oedir, you either killed and ate or you starved, it was the law of the land. And the rabbit, well, it had the misfortune of being delicious, he’d feel no shame in ending its life, in tearing the body a sunder to feast on the soft bits on the inside. Two paces away. He could see the hairs on its back now, its whiskers, its tiny little claws. He leapt with a growl that almost roared, that shook the ground just like the storm, the same power, the same ferocity, the same doom and dread and destruction as a raging tornado, he leapt.

Then something stopped him. At first, he felt true fear, a soft panic that someone had stepped from the cabin with a club or a paddle, but as he recoiled, back peddling in the dirt and scrambling to not fall ungracefully onto his face, he realized. He’d hit the door. Just slammed right into it, he’d missed his jump entirely. Startled, he scrambled backward into a sit, paws outstretched and his face screwed up in a disheveled surprise. He tried to blink away the stars that had appeared in his vision.

Well that had hurt.

Carjen pawed at his face comically, trying to clear his vision. What an idiot, he was so angry with himself he could’ve added claws. How could he have misjudged the jump so poorly? The target had been still, his eyes were keen in the low light, he’d had plenty of time. Yet for some reason he’d rushed it and made a fool of himself, what a disaster. He made a low noise of displeasure as the buzzing in his ears finally cleared and the world stopped shifting before his eyes, it was something of a growl but higher pitched, crossed with what could’ve been the meow of a normal cat, still pitched low by his immense size. He gave his head a brisk shake, ears slapping the sides of his broad head audibly, before finally turning to look down around his paws.

He’d expected the rabbit to have immediately vacated the premises while its predator was so indisposed, but the big cat was surprised to find the little bunny looking up at him worriedly, eyes wide with a repressed fear that was caked with a sort of gentle concern that easily could’ve been its undoing. Carjen once again had the instinct to descend upon the little thing, to crush its head in his jaws and feast as he originally intended, but its bold movements gave him just enough pause for their minds to link telepathically and in a sudden moment of clarity, she spoke to him and his ears perked in shock.

She was a werebeast.

He blinked slowly, processing this information. It made sense now that he gave it some thought. The rabbit was small, a dwarf bunny at best if not super young and immature, not a species native to this area. Plus, she was white, her fur crisp and clean in the afternoon air, completely out of place for the middle of summer, all of the native rabbits would be sporting their summer coats of browns and greys. He mentally chastised himself again, how could he have been such a fool? To almost cannibalize one of his own kind, he’d never come so close before, been such a hair’s thickness away from at least unintentional murder. He huffed and looked away in shame, the sharp exhale of air from his nose sounding almost like a human curse. He growled and grumbled to himself for a moment before flicking an ear angrily. He’d completely regained his composure by this point, sitting up straight at his full height and pulling his paws into a proper sitting position. His tail flicked once broadly where it lay folded against the steps. He huffed again.

“I will live.” He responded, his mental voice terse. A crack of thunder drew his eyes skyward, deliberately looking away as the bunny scrambled by him. A drop of water hit him square in the face and he flinched slightly, blinking a few times before wiping the wetness away with a forepaw. Surprisingly considering his feline nature, Carjen had no qualms with water. Quite the contrast, he actually enjoyed a good swim, nothing soothed the soul like an afternoon nap in a calm river or beside the gentle lapping shores of a lake. But storms were more complex, more dangerous he realized, watching lightning streak across the sky. He had miles of open grassland to cross to reach his keep, the possibility of being struck not far from his mind. He would definitely wait out the storm somewhere, with any luck it would just be a summer squall, a brief pelting of rain and some rumbles of thunder only to give way to crystal clear skies in minutes. He wouldn’t stay long.

Sneering a little to show his somewhat mild displeasure, the jaguar stood slowly, his movements like a liquid, flowing from one place to the next, and, nosing the door open to allow for his bulk, he followed the rabbit into the cabin, padded paws scuffing softly on the hardwood floors as he stepped gingerly into the stranger’s domain. He looked around with a noticeable curiosity, though he tried to hide it beneath his usual mask of indifference.

“Do you live here alone?” He tried not to sound concerned, still a little worried about the addition of others, hunters or slave traders or someone similarly unsavory who might try to do him harm, foolish as that may be.

He nodded tersely, eyes traversing the room, traveling along the wooden walls and into the seams where they met the similar slatted floors. It was a small, quaint little thing, not unlike many of the cottages that filled his manor, if generally smaller. It looked only large enough to fit one person comfortably, even in their animal forms the two of them in there together felt a bit cramped, so he seemed to calm slightly, the rise of his shoulders falling and his tail waving in a more relaxed manner, less flicking and more flying like a flag. She was probably not lying to him about living alone.

Her words puzzled him though, he realized as his gaze wandered around the room. ‘I don’t think I’ll be here too much longer though.’ What did she mean by that? Of course, literally he understood, she did not plan on staying in the cabin for an extended period of time. But why not? Was this not her home, did she not truly live here? If not, why was she here in the first place, alone, unguarded? It didn’t make any sense and his confusion showed on his faintly spotted brow as his eyes narrowed. He allowed himself to look down at the rabbit, studying her with his cold green eyes. He wanted to ask, to simply be blunt in his curiosity but he didn’t trust the bunny to tell him anything with any certainty, or, what was worse, he was afraid of what he’d do once he knew. God forbid she was a slave and he’d need to rescue her, of course he would, he never left slaves, he was such a fool, a sentimental old fool. It was better to not know. He could leave once the storm passed, she would go on her way whatever that meant and they’d never see each other again. It was something of a pity, he realized in a moment of uncharacteristic softness. He was building a kingdom for their kind, for all of them, the big and the small. He really shouldn’t dismiss this one for being small and unassuming, she was a werebeast just like him, she deserved a place to call home just like he did.

But he said nothing, only studied her for a long, drawn out moment, his eyes cold and calculating, like he was counting the hairs on her back. But, after a moment, he lowered his head and turned away, stalking the few steps over to a corner of the room where he ungracefully plopped himself down on his side with a sigh. He kept an ear turned in the rabbit’s direction, still monitoring her but he let the subject of their conversation drop like the socially constipated sap that he was.

“Very well. I guess neither of us will be staying very long then.”

The jaguar sighed languidly, assuming his stubborn silence had been enough of a signal to leave him alone. He’d honestly thought he wouldn’t even need to be so forward with a rabbit, being a predator, self preservation should’ve had her at a distance. But she insisted so, after a long moment, he did lift his head and fire a quiet glare in her direction. He eyed the tea warily, as though he expected it to leap out of the container and strangle her like some sort of soft brown snake, but it did nothing so he turned his attention back to the girl, glaring and stubbornly trying to silently get her to leave him alone.

She seemed daft. Maybe not daft so much as foolish, she was cavorting about in the personal space of an ornery big cat, foolish was the smallest word he could use to describe her. But there was a gentleness about her, an innocence that made him blink and flick an ear. His green eyes warmed slightly, she reminded him of his sister, a far far far away memory that was so delicate it seemed to disinteregrate in his very mind. She was smiling at him, laughing, handing him a small dirty white cup full of something long forgotten. He didn’t even remember her name. They had the same face, this girl and the girl from his memories, though his sister had been far younger at the time, the shape of their jaw was the same, the same gentle slope and they had the same nose. Immediately, Carjen cursed in his mind and closed his eyes, turning away with a huff. Who cared, who cared about that girl or this one, they were all the same, fools, daft, too soft and too gentle for this world. They’d be gone before sunrise.

His eyes turned cold as she sat down beside him and he pointedly looked away, refusing every offer she had for friendship. He was giving the back of the front door such a harsh glare that the contact with his shoulder made him jump and he lept into a sitting position, startled. He wanted to growl but caught it in his throat. It was unnecessary, just a touch, if this girl could find a way to harm a beast like him he’d be more impressed than intimidated. He paused, giving her a cold hard stare but his brow softened just a bit and he lowered himself back into his laying position, falling back into her hand.

“Carjen.” He said suddenly, though he turned away at the same time, back to staring at the back side of the door. “My name is Carjen.”

He allowed some silence to fall between them, relished it, realized that he was unlikely to get a lot of that during his time here he suspected and sighed, turning slightly to peer at her out of the corner of his eye.

“I am starving.” He paused, pink tongue appearing long enough to run across the base of his whiskers, pulling up his hanging jowls to reveal large pointed teeth. It came with a grumble, a low rumbling sound that could’ve been a growl or could’ve been a purr, it was difficult to tell which, but it shook the ground at his feet and rumbled across the floor like a wave at low tide. “Do not think for a second that I will not devour you should it prove beneficial to me.”

Carjen’s cold green eyes watched her pale hand move against his black coat, sneering at it but making no further movement away or to the contrary. Honestly, he enjoyed being touched, especially in this form, his body radiated heat in a big way so his skin usually felt cold where it contacted the air. But when it was someone’s hand, it was all warmth and tingles and it was honestly quite nice. He’d die before he admitted that though so, though he watched her skeptically, he said nothing about it, flicking an ear dismissively as his attention began to wander. It drew back when she mentioned a name.

“Felix?” He repeated, looking upon her with just a hint of curiosity. Part of him wanted to react with aggression, to lash out at her and leave briskly, she had been lying about living alone. But he didn’t believe it really, the cabin was just too small, the girl just too weak and needy for her to possibly have regular contact with someone else. So in the end, it remained curiosity and nothing else. Perhaps it was the name of her brother, a dwarf hare or something, or maybe a really poorly paid guard who was never around. Perhaps he would show up and Carjen could really flex his muscles in telling the man off, that would be exciting.

While waiting for her to elaborate, the panther’s eyes drew upward, following the path of a lone droplet of water that seemed to startle the rabbit shifter into backing away from him. There was a board in the cabin ceiling, which was barely even a ceiling at all, mostly just rafters beneath a pitched thatch roof, that was slanted on its strut. Water from the rain that had begun to fall outside was running down it and into the cabin from the outdoors. Carjen sniffed at it thoughtfully. Were he in his much taller human form, he could’ve easily reached up and adjusted it so that it sat straight again and the water would not run inside. But if he shifted, he’d be naked in the poor girl’s house. That didn’t bother him any, he’d been shifting all of his life, out of place nudity was just par for the course. But the girl seemed sensitive, so, though he slowly stood from his laying position, he did not change forms.

Instead, he turned around, aimed himself at the board and, after crouching down into a coiled, gathered pose, he simply leapt straight upward. He was a huge cat and the cabin was short and small, it really was almost effortless on his part, the leap and the movement, his tail flowing behind him like a liquid as he reached up with one paw and slapped the wood into place with an audible whack. He landed heavily exactly where he’d been when he took off, only turned slightly to land on his feet, his bulk making a heavy thud against the floor. He paused to shake himself briefly before turning around again to admire his handy work. He’d hit the board too hard, it now slanted in the other direction, thrown up by the panther’s force, but water would only follow the slant to the outside wall where it belonged, it was still something of a solution. Still, he huffed slightly, lowering his ears a bit sheepishly.

“Never was much of a handyman.”

Sitting back down, Carjen seemed distracted, to be hardly listening. He twisted around in his seat to clean the back of his shoulder with his long flat tongue. But, despite being turned away and currently occupied, his mental voice piped up curiously.

“Safe? Safe from what?” The question seemed foolish once he’d asked it. She was a tiny little rabbit shifter, there was much for her to be afraid of, a merely aggressive dog was enough to end her life, the list of threats to her person could be endless. Hell, a moment ago, he had been on it. But he remained curious and thoughtful. He had put her here, in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, told her not to start a fire, if hounds were all they were afraid of a burrow would’ve done just as well. No, this was a fear of something intelligent enough to follow smoke, to track a fire, something human. What had this girl done to make someone upset with her, to have someone after her? Mentally, Carjen huffed at himself. Not that he cared, he didn’t care, it didn’t matter… but he wanted to know.

He paused in his grooming to look back up at his handy work. He was really not at all happy about it, he’d hit the board way too hard, it might’ve splintered at the base. Termites would get in, or worse water, there could be mold, it could take over the entire cabin in a few years, he may have created more problems than he solved. But he just shook his head, closing his eyes harshly to release some tension. He was just being a perfectionist again, overly critical, overly paranoid. It was a cabin in the middle of the woods, who cared, he willed himself to think. Who cared? Nobody cared, the girl wasn’t even planning on staying here, it was fine. He shook his head again and seemed to relax a little, calm now.

“You’re welcome.” He said, trying to maintain an air of distance and uncaring apathy, but if he was honest with himself, he was growing attached to the company of this strange and curious bunny girl. She was less of a fool than he had initially given her credit for. Sure, reaching out and touching a panther was really stupid, but she had a curious mind, a thinker’s mind, she had the makings of an intellectual and, an intellectual himself, he could only respect that about her, cultivate it in her. The world they lived in was far too complacent, people didn’t ask enough questions, and though Carjen really didn’t want to answer any of the questions that did come his way, he saw the value in knowledge, in exploration and adventure. He turned to look at Larkin softly, his expression warmer than it had been all night. But he seemed to notice, stiffened and then looked away again. “I make armor. Leather, sometimes with a little metal, I have an excellent blacksmith back home.”

He paused, looking down at his paws thoughtfully for a moment, listening to the rumble of thunder and the sound of rain pelting stone. He had a deep faraway look in his eye, like he was weighing something, but after a moment, he focused and looked up again.

“And…” He started but hesitated a tad. “I’m the alpha of the Chase Fire clan.” He started quietly, unsure why he was telling the girl this. Well, he wasn’t unsure exactly, so much as he was hesitant to do so. He had no idea what he’d do with a dwarf rabbit in his ranks but if she was a lore keeper, she knew how to keep records. Meticulous and detailed in all of the things he did, that sort of thing was important to Carjen and he had some interest in obtaining someone who could perform such duties. But he was a little too shy to ask, too ashamed that he’d come so close to eating this girl, inviting her to the clan was a huge step in another direction that he didn’t think he deserved. “We accept werebeasts of all kinds, from all walks of life and all places around the world. I protect them, give them a home and warm food every night and in return, they work my fields or in my castle or wherever they can find themselves useful. Sometimes I pay them gold, I have plenty of that to share.”

Carjen sneered. He was far more preoccupied with the troubles of full blooded werebeasts than the problems being a hybrid caused, but from what he had seen and what he knew of the world, hybrid werebeasts were just as much beast as the rest of them and should be treated the same. It always bothered him, the petty laws about that, buying and selling people was such a barbaric practice and his scowl deepened as it brought on memories of chains, just endless chains, heavy and cold against his skin, dragging him through mud and shit. He growled lowly, his muscles rippling as he tensed and relaxed his toes, digging curved claws in the wood beneath his feet.

“And they consider us the animals.” He said quietly, eyes focused on some far off point beyond the far wall of the tiny cabin. “Buying and selling people like they’re livestock. What man is good enough to decide another man’s worth in gold? People can be so petty.”

He turned his head roughly as though to spit in anger, but cats could not do such things so in the end it was just a movement. He flexed his toes one more time, relishing the feeling of his claws digging into something, and then relaxed and looked back again, his composure returned. He nodded to her solemnly, a certain understanding in the way that he looked at her.

“Good on this Felix for protecting you then. Sounds like you needed it.” He paused briefly to stand and stretch his back, getting up onto the tips of his toes and arching his back as high as it would go, a long sweeping curve of a motion that he held for a moment before all of his weight seemed to return and he sank back into a normal relaxed standing position. He looked down upon where Larkin sat on the floor at his feet. “And where is home exactly?”

He wasn’t usually one to pry but the girl seemed talkative so he wasn’t ashamed in asking. He didn’t really care, the thought of escorting her there in the future crossed his mind and he quickly silenced it. He didn’t want to put forth the effort. But she had revealed in her ramblings that she was a hybrid, clearly she was half werebeast but the other half was a mystery to him and, always intellectually curious, he desired to solve it if it would prove simple and easy enough.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his eyes as the subject changed and she was off on one of her question trains. It was a little unnerving, being the center of someone’s attention in this way but they were stuck in a room together with nothing but the rain and each other for company, 20 Questions was the generally way in which things like this went. He shook his head in a fond sort of disbelief at her talkative nature but rather than complaining, he merely sat down again, tail curling around his paws carefully.

“I do enjoy it. There’s something extremely therapeutic about toiling over some stitching or an etching for a few hours in the early morning when the whole castle is asleep.” He got that faraway look in his eye again, clearly remembering many a time when he was alone in the warm darkness of his study, carving a pattern into some thick piece of hide and simply existing to do nothing but his work. He sighed fondly and seemed to come back to himself after a moment. “It is hard but that’s what makes it so enriching. Nothing worth doing is ever easy. I’m sure staying out here by yourself, for example, becomes taxing sometimes but it will be worth it in the end, right?”

He looked away again, pointedly. “That’s what matters. The hard and the grit and the tough times. It makes you who you are, makes you stronger.”

He turned and looked at Larkin for a moment, studious and stern but soft, content, enjoying their conversation. She didn’t look very strong but anyone who was bought and sold like a hunk of cow meat knew the darker side of this world, had seen all sorts of hellscapes and misfortunes and he knew, somewhere in there, this girl had strength. Perhaps she was sitting on it, clueless as to where it was or how to find it, perhaps it was locked in a chest in her heart and had not been broken free yet but someday she’s see she was as much a beast, an animal, a predator as he was, rabbit form be damned. That was how it was for slaves like them, there was a hard grit to them, there always was, shackles and chains made you like a potter makes clay. It builds you up and you shatter and must be built up again, but in the end, you stand tall, a vase among vases or a great planter box or something magnificent, to be feared and admired, not chained again. He was broken from his thoughts by another question and had a moment of shocked confusion before he remembered his armored collar. Gently he reached up and touched it with a forepaw, the chainmail jingling against his toes. He nodded.

“Yes, it was one of my first. I’m surprised it’s lasted this long honestly but when you work hard on something it pays you back, I suppose.”

He returned his paw to the ground and sat, quiet for a while, thoughtful. But her questions started up again and his eyes smiled just so.

“I guess I am pretty important.” He’d never thought of himself as such. He was just a man, trying not to die like everyone else. But he was in charge of 35 people’s lives, their homes and their protection. To at least that many bodies, he was important. Her next question gave him pause and his brow furrowed thoughtfully as he turned it over in his mind. He tended to be more secretive when it came to his motives about his clan, they were quiet types sort of flying under the radar of the human king, it was better for others not to know, to chase them like fire but catch nothing but smoke. Still, he wanted Larkin to feel welcome to them, she was as much a werebeast as anyone else he’d met, she’d fit in wonderfully amongst his ranks so he set his shoulders and turned to her again.

“I want to make a kingdom for us, for werebeasts.” He started quietly, as though worried about being overheard. “I admit that I don’t know how to do that exactly but a clan seemed a good place to start and I already had some men following me. It just sort of happened naturally I suppose.”