Farkas was resting in the morning sunlight, sleeping soundly until he felt something nudge his foot. He shifted his foot away, trying to make himself more comfortable on the pile of hay as he continued to rest on his side, his eyes trying to shut tight despite the bright light. He also had heard someone talking, though he didn't know what they were saying. B&B? What was that? Was there going to be a bed and breakfast for the alpha? He missed his wife's cooking, and perhaps even his own as he had cooked for himself and his many brothers and sisters all those years ago. Well, hunted but he did prepare the food from time to time. But during his time as alpha, the food had been delicious. Quite exquisite even for his taste. But at that time he was still the mountain man, exploring the wilds of the high cliffs. He didn't have much time to eat such food as the rest of his family had, but right now he was famished. So breakfast sounded delightful. He just craved bacon in the mornings. Maybe along with some eggs. Adjusting himself more as he nuzzled his head against the hay, he wanted to sleep for a few more minutes. But as his stomach gargled he couldn't wait. Slowly arising the man stirred, until his sleepy eyes opened as his head rose from its spot, looking over to see where he was. His first sight spotted the legs which stood before him, seeing a stick of what he assumed to be a gardening tool of some sort. Ugh, another person to bug him again. Again telling him to leave. Couldn't the homeless man have any peace?

His head falling back into the pile of hay, the werewolf refused to move. "Leave me aloneee," he grumbled, not even moving himself to make himself more comfortable again. Now this was going to be a headache, but maybe the stable attendant would just leave him be. After all, not like any horse was using the thing. Maybe after some effort the man would just wait until Farkas was well rested and up again to move away. But the smart person would know that if they do that, Farkas was just going to mull around there all day. Then night. Then the next few weeks too. Having a drunkard-like bum in the king's stables would be very humiliating indeed, especially were the king or his family ever to come here. But Farkas didn't care for any of that. No, not at all. He just wanted to rest. He also wanted the man to leave him be. And to maybe give him some food. Heck, Farkas would even eat the horses' food and drink from the trough. It wasn't like he had clean water for days.

Though, otherwise the man might have to forcibly carry him out of there. Farkas wouldn't move otherwise, at least.

The man was snapping at him. Farkas continued to roll in the ray as he lowered his head, ignoring him as he spoke. He was just fortunate that he had stopped nudging him, now he could peacefully rest somewhat. He vaguely heard what the man said but he didn't really care. He was used to hearing such insults and threats to bring the guards. Fine. The only way he was going to be moved out was if someone came and literally dragged him out. But for now he continued to sleep in the hay pile, resting and closing his eyes as he began to doze off again. At least the sun was becoming a bit higher now, it was a bit warmer. Farkas continued to rest, continually ignoring the one that stood above him, stating that the others might come and not give him the same favor. Then let them. That was the only way he was going to be getting up anyway. He knew that with persistence, eventually they would just leave him be. He continued to rest, drowning out the other words he heard from him until suddenly, suddenly, he felt his entire form, drenched with cold water. It was overwhelming to his senses, immediately bringing the werewolf out from his slumber as his eyes opened once more. He was angry. He had been sleeping there comfortably, and now he was drenched. He had been warm, happy, but now, wet and cold. The stench that came from was amplified, and even he could smell it through his nose. Disgusted, Farkas wiped some of the water away from his beard as his angered eyes looked up at him. How dare he. There wasn't much that would make Farkas angry now, but this had gone too far.

He was once a man of respect. A nice, warm bed always awaited him at home. His family always waited for him at home. He had a clan to take care of. He had everything. His mind was all not together yet, still thinking of the time when he was alpha. Even though those times were long gone. "How dare you disrespect the Alpha!" he bellowed up at him, sounding like a crazy homeless man indeed. None would even recognize him as alpha, his clan dispersed so many years ago. Though once he had been important. Very important indeed. But now it was just memory.

Getting up from his place, he hurriedly stood and ran toward him, perhaps swaying as he did so, at the speed of a drunkard. With a yell he tried to lunge at him, trying to tackle him from his chest. Though as Farkas had lost his senses, his strength was far weakened. Yet, that didn't stop him from trying, however. Maybe it was just that he didn't care. Or that he wasn't all that together.

As he tried to tackle him somehow he instead found himself lunging off his balance and into the water tank, landing headfirst into the water. Now he was really angry. Defeated, but angry. Pulling his head out from the water with heavy gasps for air, the man looked at him, his face dripping wet much like the rest of him was. The liquid rolled down into his beard and messy hair, staring at him through wet bangs. His chest heaved up and down in fury. How dare he. He may have lost everything now, but this was merely a stable attendant. Surely, an alpha even as him couldn't lose to him. He couldn't let him bring down whatever honor there was left in him. He didn't even realize that it probably not a good idea to spout the fact that he was an alpha once. But, it was dismissed for a crazy man talking most of the time anyway. Bravely pulling up from the trough, Farkas meandered over to him, swaying back and forth slightly as he did so.

"No," he said, his focus intent on defeating him. "This is."

Taking some rope that hung from the stable next to him, he tried to throw it on him, rather lamely. Then, he kicked a bucket toward his way. Angrily, he moved further back, taking a rake and shovel in hand as he "wielded" them somewhat, as if they were brandished weapons. Still, he looked at him challengingly. "Well?" he asked, feeling up to trying to fight him. Though, he would expect a laugh, or something similar. But, he didn't care for anything. Not even honor. Nothing. He felt, empty.

"Now you will learn not to upset the alpha," he said, dismissing his words of hating kings and such. Farkas might have also hated kings at some point. Of other races that was. Well, now he was one. The king of homeless. Or alpha, as he so called himself. Not waiting for a response or an accepting to his duel, Farkas charged forward, holding the rake in one hand and the shovel in the other. The dangerous menace of a madman spun wildly, furiously as he roared again. He aimed to hit him, anything, even the poor horse in the stall next over. He was just angry, he had enough of being nothing. Feeling nothing. He wanted to take his anger out. He wanted to feel something. Even if it was anger in the midst of a battle. Well, a lousy homeless man attacking a horse stable attendant battle that was.

As Farkas bumbled toward him the hay flew through the air, aimed toward right at his stomach as he then fell forward, landing on top of it disgracefully as the weapons in hands flew both ways. They clanged on the ground next to him, and his head just barely reached the floor as he lay there, chest over the pile. He seethed of anger. He felt like such a fool, to be so easily defeated like this. His eyes burned with rage. A demented old goat... That really stung. He was a wolf, not a goat. He took pride in his werewolf nature, unlike the rest of the werebeasts of whom werewolves hardly ever interacted with back in his day. He had a son that was a goat. Disgraceful. How could he, the Alpha, have such a son? He had to hide him from the rest of the clan, to ensure that not only he wouldn't be eaten, but because it would cause unrest within the clan. It wasn't Farkas' fault that he was born that way. Farkas was a predator, much like everyone else in his family. Everyone that he knew, save for his mate, was werewolf. Yet, how did he bare two incomplete sons, a hybrid of immortal and werewolf, and a goat? Such was the lack of honor that he had. The lack of pride. But back then, he may have loved them. Now however, they were gone in his mind. Gone within the void of the black hole of a heart that he had. Furiously looking up to the man, Farkas looked at him with strong distaste. He spit out one of the stray strings of hay that happened to find its way into his mouth.

"How... dare... you," he was boiling with rage. He didn't even bother to push himself upward as he continued to lay there in such a pitiful position. "You don't know who you're messing with."

Of course, that only could have been applicable were he back in his mansion, the roles reversed. But now, here, he had nothing. He was a nobody. Other than the demented old goat, as he called him. "How dare you shame the Volkov name..." what his clan once was. If the man could even remember such a name. But nevertheless, Farkas thought that it was important. Soon, he did get up from his position, pushing himself up with his arms albeit wobbly as he managed to sit on the hay pile that he fell on. He looked downward, as he was slumped. He was too exhausted to fight now. The endless days and nights, even with the sleep he had this last night, it wasn't enough. He continued to look downward, reminiscing his old life back in the good old days and how his life was now ruined. He tried to stand him but his legs gave way, causing him to fall back on his rump once more.

"I swear... I swear I will get you for this..." he cursed, however what could an old homeless man do other than sit on the stack of hay?

Farkas sat there without a word, looking at the ground as the man talked. However, a name popped up. Volkov was it? He looked up then as he mentioned her name. Lux? That sounded... sort of familiar but not really. "What?" Didn't Felix mention someone with that name? Was she the one that he had... with a fairy? Or something. This visually perked up his interest, as he sat up more on the stack of hay as he turned to him more. "She must be my..." Was that what she was really? Was he really related to her? But no doubt, the man spoke the very name of his surname. There were only a few Volkov left. He didn't think there would be anyone else going by that surname now. "Granddaughter..." he spoke with some disbelief, as he was still trying to think if it were actually true. Not that he cared. It was unlikely he would ever see her anyway. Not that he wanted to. He hardly saw his own sons. But, for good reason. He didn't want them to see him in this state. Though he hardly ever saw them at his mansion, the selfish bastard he was. His head looked up at him, gazing at him with bewilderment. How did he know of her? She must be either a fae or a werewolf, maybe an immortal but he doubted that possibility. Though she couldn't possibly have some sort of connection to this... measly, lowly, human, could she?

But those words of him being a grandfather felt odd on his tongue. He never had wished to see another family, maybe it was something that he wanted to leave behind with his clan. Nevertheless, he couldn't control what his children did. Nor did he wish to be apart of it however. But as Farkas looked up at the man, a bit of irritation leaked into his features. "Why? Know someone with that name?" he asked scornfully. A quick question asked with haste that he really didn't want to know the answer to. But he couldn't sleep here. He was angry enough as it was. Plus he just lost to the man. Though he had no relation to Lux otherwise. Even if he asked him about her, Farkas would not know very much. Felix kept his life a secret, and probably preferred it that way so that Farkas couldn't interfere with it. A decent reason. Though it wasn't like Farkas was going to take part or have much interest in it anyway. He wanted to abandon the life he had. Anything and everything associated with his past, like his sons, tossed out the window.

He sighed, as the man grew weary and tired. Though he had to continue to stick around and converse with this... measly stablehand, until the guards arrived or Farkas could actually sleep here.

He looked up at him as he said he knew her. Oh how great. But at the mention of him being a shit grandfather, even if he was one, made him angry. It fully expressed on his face with a scowl. How dare he. But then the man continued on and on about her life's story. Boo-hoo. But it was his next words that had furthered his anger. The mention at the Volkov name again. Letting own blood be taken up like prey. Indeed Farkas had done such a thing. Especially her. Especially her indeed. His own wife was slaughtered by him. Such prey she had been. It was no wonder he had lost his place. Can't even keep his own family safe. Not his own populous. This man was correct to the fullest extent. And that was the reason perhaps Farkas was boiling with fury. His teeth gritted, his eyebrows furrowed deep over his eyes as he snarled at him with anger. The wolf wanting to come out and to lash at him. But his exhaustion brought him nowhere. He couldn't even get up, even if he wanted to.

"Like I've actually met her," he spat. "I only know her by name. You expect me to know anything what happens with my son's life!" He then shouted, verbally lashing out his rage at the man. However he remained sitting on the stack of hay, despite the fact that he wanted to land a blow onto him. "I don't know anything about her. What happened to her I have the least idea." He then slightly calmed down a bit, however he still remained cold and bitter as he looked downward briefly. Not like he cared about her anyway. How could he? He hasn't even met the girl. But she was his granddaughter. Though even he treated his sons with the same harshness.

"But you're just vile peasant," he then spoke again. "If you're so certain of yourself why didn't you save her?" Did that make him any better than him? In Farkas' mind he thought so.