Wolfgang X Sasha X Ike X Trys X Kiona

Wolfgang Van Dam’s touch was like the first rainfall after a long drought. He blew through her like a warm spring breeze, breathing new life into parts of her that she hadn't known existed. He washed over like warm water, washing away the blood that she still felt lingering on her skin. His warmth cleansed her of her guilt, scrubbing away the girl she had become.  His touch was addictive; a simple handshake with Wolfgang Van Dam was something she hadn't known she needed, and something she feared she wouldn't be able to live without. Time slowed down, and Wolfgang's touch became more like oil, seeping through her skin and polluting her as it spread. His essence sunk deep into her bones, integrating pieces of himself into her. He spilled into her veins and took up all the space in her lungs until there was no room inside of her for anything other than him. He wasn't a sweet summer's rain; he was a torrential downpour that wanted to wash her away. He wasn't a warm ocean's breeze; he was a tornado with winds strong enough to uproot and ruin her. He wasn't a gentle babbling brook; he was a stormy ocean with tides that would inevitably pull her under.

The connection broke off abruptly and Kiona hesitated, staring at their separated hands for the briefest moment before she hastily pulled back. She looked at Wolfgang, trying to see if he was a victim of their connection, but she couldn't tell.  Even with the cold air between them, his touch uncomfortably lingered on her skin, a reminder of the frightening strength of their connection, a connection she didn't understand. Everything about Wolfgang and all of the endless possibilities that came with him surrounded her like water, muting the rest of the world. Her thoughts moved slow as she swam through the fog, but the realization of what Wolfgang said - or, rather, how he said it - was her breakthrough back into clarity.

She didn't mean to, but Kiona physically flinched at the sound of her native language. It had only been a matter of weeks, but it was jarring to hear it spoken. She was no longer sharing company with the nobility and upper ranks of the empire and Ike's ignorance of his kingdom's own language was a stark reminder of the status of the people she was currently slumming it with. Hearing the stiff, clumsy pronunciation of the language come out of the mouth of a foreigner only added insult to injury.  For the first time since her fall from grace, she felt the sting of losing more than just her family and life.  In the span of just a couple of weeks, she had gone from royalty to humiliated, exiled, poor, and homeless. 

If Ike hadn't told them, then it wouldn't take long for Wolfgang and Sasha to put together the pieces of what was happening. If Wolfgang knew where she was from and that she was fluent in the language reserved for nobility, then he also had to know about their strict abhorrence to unnatural creatures. From there, it wasn't hard to fill in the rest of the story.  Even without knowing the details or the intricacies of Grovakhan culture, it was relatively common knowledge that unnatural afflictions were a death sentence. She wondered if the news of her family's massacre and the political upheaval in Grovakha had trickled its way south yet, but it wouldn't be long before the news reached southern kingdoms.  Why did he speak to her in her native language? Kiona hadn't even thought about the lives werewolves carried on when they weren't beasts, but it was very clear that Wolfgang had an entire life outside of his affliction.  He was hardly the monster she had grown up hating.  He had close friends and family, people who loved him and people he loved.  Was it a taunt? The border of Grovakha wasn't terribly far; had a close relative or friend of Wolfgang been slaughtered at the hands of her people? Would he want revenge?

Kiona stared down at the untouched bowl of soup in front of her, hands starting to shake. She had survived her family's massacre. She had survived nearly a week in the wilderness with no supplies. She had survived her own attempt on her life. And now, they mocked her in the face of death. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that this wasn't a larger conspiracy. Wolfgang and Sasha were obviously involved in whatever plan Ike had, but Kiona was no longer feeling cooperative. Anger welled up inside of her, burning away the sluggishness and depression.  She refused to die on their terms, if for nothing more than sheer spite. 

Wolfgang had been called many things in his lifetime. Drunk. Deviant. Bastard. Even all three at once. But never werewolf. It was absolutely thrilling to hear the word spoken aloud, directed at him- even if it dripped with hate. For the first time, he was hit with the realization that his affliction was no longer a deep, dark secret. It was liberating to feel the weight of a lifelong burden lift from his chest. Suddenly, he could breathe. He was finally free from the bonds of his hidden identity and allowed to be his full, unapologetic self.

Keeping such a massive secret had not been easy for Wolfgang. He was an extremely open and talkative person by nature, known for being brutally honest and constantly over sharing. He lectured, he gossiped, he debated, and he joked- and somehow, he had managed to keep his secret. That is, until the wolf started calling the shots. Exposure had been thrust upon him and, even after the world knew what he was, people had tip-toed around acknowledging the beast. To them, it was easier to forget what had happened, than get to the bottom of the mysteries that shrouded their world.

Rather than being offended over Kiona’s bout of hate speech, Wolfgang took it in stride. The threat bounced off him with little affect, and he waited patiently for her to let it all out. He didn’t blame Kiona for lashing out. He didn’t know the details of what she’d been through, but it was obvious she was dealing with recent trauma- and a lot of it. If she wanted to unload on him, then she was welcome to do so. But by the time she finished, Wolfgang realized that her problems were far closer to home than he’d originally imagined. It dawned on him that the circumstances of their encounter and the attempt on her own life were highly suspicious. His gaze started to drift toward the front door, but Sasha’s movement distracted him from the train of thought directed at the strangers that lingered outside.

Wolfgang nodded subtly and hummed his acknowledgment of Sasha’s departure. His eyes followed her as she retreated down the hallway, sensing a distinct sadness radiating from his friend despite the encouragement that she continuously endowed him with. He felt a sense of guilt creeping up on him as she disappeared into a bedroom, but the clink of Kiona’s spoon had his attention snapping back to the girl with interest. Already, she’d begun to shed her shaky exterior in favor of ferocity. He couldn’t yet tell if this defense mechanism would work in his favor or not, but he liked to see it.

“Apologies. My intentions were not to offend.” His words were sincere, but there was an edge to his tone. Wolfgang could be patient and kind, but he was not a push over. Mutual respect was important to him, no matter what a person had been through or was going through. He needed Kiona to give him a chance.

As she ate, Wolfgang rose from his chair. He considered locking the front door until he figured out if Ike and Trys were a threat but decided against it- fearing that Kiona would perceive it as trapping her inside. Instead, he approached the bookshelves that lined the walls of the living room, perusing the section that had caught his eye previously. Once he found what he was looking for, he reached up to retrieve a book, slipping it from its spot with deft fingers that had undoubtedly performed the same action thousands of times. He blew gently against the maroon-colored hard cover of the text, causing a small cloud of dust to billow into the air. After confirming that it was what he was looking for, he returned to Kiona.

Wolfgang rested a palm against the kitchen table and leaned toward Kiona, placing the book in front of her bowl of soup with a soft thud. He tapped his pointer finger against the title, which read: High Grovakhan. “I studied it when I was about your age. Figured it would be useful if I ever encountered someone such as yourself. It seems I was wrong, as you are impressively multilingual. Perhaps it would serve me better to study your culture instead, if that’s okay with you.” He studied her expression as he spoke, as though testing the waters of what might upset her.

Wolfgang was well aware of her home country’s distaste of his- or rather their- kind, but he had underestimated her level of denial. “I’m sure you are recovering quickly,” he continued after a moment, returning to his seat, “We tend to do that.” His choice of words was vague but pointed. He was unwilling to entertain her state of denial, but tried to be gentle when referring to their curse, nonetheless. Kiona didn’t seem to accept what she was at all, and he could only assume that she had only just begun to turn. It made sense, as he hadn’t been afflicted with transformations until his father’s untimely death. Whoever had carried the burden in her family tree had likely met their end, and she was only just learning to grapple with the new reality of being a werewolf. Hopefully, they had found each other before her wolf had the opportunity to cause irreparable damage.

Wolfgang relaxed into his seat and took a deep breath, regarding her carefully, “I do not want you dead, Kiona. Quite the opposite,” he insisted, the concern in his warm hazel eyes undeniably clear. “I need for you to tell me who is hunting you,” he continued earnestly. It was obvious that it was becoming difficult for him to remain calm when she was expressing such dire circumstances, but he persisted, clinging to the faith that their connection would steer her right, “I need you to trust me.”

---

Ike felt the effect of his words building like a ticking time bomb that would inevitably blow up in his face. He subconsciously held his breath and stared at the creek as the water trickled by peacefully, unbothered by their mutual suffering. When Trys finally released a sob, the bomb effectively went off, leaving him with the all too familiar stab of guilt that felt like shrapnel burying into his skin. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms as he resisted the urge to continue his verbal assault. Trys was an unfortunate innocent bystander; someone to direct his frustration at. As selfish as it was, witnessing her tears made him feel far less alone.

As Trys’ quiet sobs filled the silence, Ike tried to recall the last time he’d cried, but came up blank. He ran a hand down his face, but the only moisture there was from the water he’d splashed moments ago. Even after the death of his family, after losing everything of meaning in his life, his eyes had remained dry. He finally glanced toward Trys, watching the way his simple-minded dog comforted her with more empathy than he could ever muster. Nausea turned his stomach as he wondered if something was inherently wrong with him.

“I used to think I was helping people,” he began to speak without thinking, as though this was his one chance to get things off his chest before he scared Trys off. “It’s easier to shoot an arrow between someone’s eyes when it’s for the greater good…” he trailed off, as though recalling some unpleasant memory in the sanctity of his mind.

After several long moments, he seemed to snap back to reality. His pale eyes hardened to stone and he looked back to Trys with a sense of finality, “My people will be catching up to us soon enough,” he told her. If there was one thing his tribe excelled at, it was tracking. More specifically, hunting people down. By now, they had likely assumed that he failed the mission in one way or another and sent back up to finish the job. What he had actually done was far, far worse in their eyes. “You don’t want to be here when they show up,” he warned her, pushing off the tree to face her directly. There was a severity to his tone that signified what was coming next, “Go home, Trys.”

Trys was trembling, but the sobs were ebbing as she released the emotion. She felt the way her body relaxed, as if exorcising tension she hadn't known she'd been carrying. It left her feeling fresh and like she could see things clearly for the first time. She snuggled with Hound as the dog comforted her, stroking his long ears and listening as Ike spoke. She looked up at him finally as she wiped her cheeks dry, though they were left rosy by the tear stains. The thought of someone coming after Ike was... terrifying. She was confident in both of their abilities, but being on the run had taken a toll. Kiona was safe here, but for how long? And what about Ike? It would be easy, safer, for her to leave him now. But somewhere along the way... she'd begun to feel something for him. It had started that night they'd almost- almost what? Nothing had happened, and there had been no inkling of it since then. Perhaps it was the trauma and the adrenaline of trying to keep Kiona alive that made Trys want to outright reject the idea of parting ways with Ike. Her stomach churned at the thought of her empty cabin, ransacked by Kiona after she'd turned.

"And what about you? What about Kiona?" She asked, the defiance clear in her voice. If Ike thought she would leave without questioning him, he was wrong. Perhaps some naive part of Trys thought that Ike would have gone back with her, would have helped her rebuild the cabin and the stables. She hadn't even allowed herself to really think that far ahead, but now that they were here and Kiona was with the healer and the wolf, she could see something different for both herself and Ike.

___

Ike was right. He was being hunted. Alix had been on their trail, always a few days behind. When Ike had failed to return after the first few days of his dispatch on Kiona's heels, the tribe had selected him to finish the job. Either Ike had perished, or he had dishonoured himself. Either way, Alix knew what had to be done. Death before dishonour. And the despicable creature Ike had been tasked with killing would face her death as well. He had seen the carnage in her wake- the destruction of Trys' cabin, the horse carcasses, and the blood. So much blood had marked their path it was amazing nothing else had followed them. After relentless pursuit, Alix had finally caught up to them. But he was willing to bide his time. He would need to get Ike alone. While Alix was confident in his abilities, he knew he was no match for two lycans and the warrior-like abilities of Ike and Trys. He would go down like a sack of rocks sunk to the riverbed. And so the dark haired man, clad in black furs from foot to crown, perched on an overhang where he could have a clear view of the cabin and its surroundings.

Alix settled back and watched Ike and Trys interact. Had Ike fallen for the redhead? He could see why, he supposed. She was lean, he could tell. Even beneath her furs and tunic, she was strong and lithe. Her hair, though matted and dirty, was as inviting as a flame to a moth. Was Ike her little moth? The thought amused him. Stoic Ike had never been one to chase or pine for women. He couldn't begrudge his friend for wanting a taste of the sweetness outside their tribe. But it could not cloud his judgement, and it seemed it had. Or perhaps the werewolf princess had cast a spell on him. Kiona was a true, dangerous threat. He would have to isolate her too. But first thing first- he had to dispose of Ike. As their conversation drifted up to him, he perked up. If Trys left, that would help him out a lot. He didn't have anything against the woman. She could be free to go and remain unscathed. Alex rubbed his hand against his dark beard as he pondered the outcome of this encounter. Ike had been a role model to him as he grew up in the tribe, and a great teacher as he learned the ways of their people. It hurt him to have been the one sent to track him down, but Alix would do what he must.

She couldn't gather her thoughts but her mouth opened and more words tumbled out, "Ike won't hurt me," If there was one thing Kiona was sure of, it was that Ike was a shameful representation of the great Grovakhan Empire. He had countless opportunities and a million reasons to put her six feet underground, but he restrained himself every single time. He took care of her, even if only out of sheer obligation, but she knew that her situation could be worse. For someone on death row, he didn't have to give her as much leniency as he did. "He wouldn't be the one to execute me, he's just bringing me back," Kiona rambled, stopping herself short when she realized how much it sounded like she was defending him - which was not her intention, at all.

The door shook from impact and Kiona jumped back, visibly flinching at the sound of her name being called. There wasn't time to unpack her unconscious defense of her jailer, and she scrambled to think of a plan under the increasing pressure of time. "I need to slip out the back," Kiona insisted, unsure of where she was going but hoping the idea would come as she spoke, "But they can't realize I'm gone. I need the head start," The locked door and couch were only a deterrent, and not a strong one. Ike would in the cabin within minutes. Time was not on their side.

"We need to keep them outside and distracted...," Adrenaline started to pump through her, or maybe it was the panic, and her hands started to shake, "We can imply that we're... getting to know one another," The idea was out before she could stop it and heat flooded her cheeks at the mere implication. She immediately dropped her gaze, too embarrassed to look at him, but she didn't take the idea back. "He won't be as concerned about a locked door and I can slip out the back," She continued and even once her idea was fully explained, the embarrassment didn't fade. The fresh memory of admitting to the strange connection she felt between them just minutes before only intensified her self-consciousness and she pretended to look anywhere but at Wolfgang.

The situation was time sensitive and she didn't have time for him to disagree. They didn't have time to hash out her desire for freedom and frankly, unless he wanted to chain her to the wall, he didn't have much of a say in it. Ike was willing to physically restrain her to keep her close but she had a feeling that Wolfgang wouldn't resort to such crude methods.  Unfortunately for him, the use of restraints would be entirely necessary if he wanted her to stay.  Before she lost her courage, she brushed past him and walked closer to the door, "Damn it Ike, can't you take a fucking hint? We're busy, get lost and come back later," She shouted through the door, her voice absent of the same innocent shyness that it had when she had suggested the idea moments before.

It took her another second or two to gather the courage to turn back towards Wolfgang, and when she did face him, she pretended like she hadn't just insinuated that they were having sex. "Okay, which room has a window that leads out back? Do you have any meat? I need something to buy his stupid dog off," She was a flurry of movement and the tremors in her hands had taken over her entire body. Traveling with Ike, however dreadfully tedious, had been safe. She had been confident in the knowledge that her life was not in immediate danger - but if she escaped, all bets were off. One wrong choice, and she could die.

As Kiona jumped from one sporadic thought to the next, Wolfgang was reminded of himself. He was notorious for rambling endlessly, and often couldn’t keep up with his own train of thought once he latched onto a subject. But as he watched Kiona fall into that similar state of tunnel vision, he felt the gears of his own mind slow down as a natural effort to balance her out. It was apparent that Kiona was confused- caught up in a state of denial due to trauma and rapid change. Wolfgang wanted to be understanding of that, but the mere mention of her leaving immediately set him on edge, and his eyes hardened with resolve.

“Kiona-“ he attempted to interject, but she beat him to it. He kept his eyes locked onto her warily, expecting her to try to flee any second. Wolfgang wasn’t keen on the idea of forcing anyone to do anything, especially not a girl whose freedom had already been stripped from her, but he knew in his heart that he couldn’t allow her to leave.

Even after what she had just disclosed about her travel companions, he believed Kiona when she said that Ike wouldn’t hurt her. As much as he wanted to interpret Ike as the enemy, he couldn’t help but think back to first impressions and recall how the man had reacted to Kiona’s suicide attempt. Ike had seemed hellbent on saving the girl’s life , and Wolfgang would’ve never guessed that he was a bounty hunter tasked with her capture. Despite his general aloofness, Wolfgang considered himself good at reading people, and he had genuinely sensed that two had Kiona’s best interests at heart. Their relationship was incredibly perplexing, but he needed to err on the side of caution for both their sakes. They were werewolves, after all, and enemies lurked around every corner.

Wolfgang’s eyes shot to the door as it rattled, signaling Ike’s return. He prepared to take advantage of the temporary barrier between them and attempt to speak to the man, but Kiona had other, less practical ideas. Wolfgang was a particularly difficult person to shock. He’d seen and done more scandalous things than he’d care to admit, but somehow the girl’s promiscuous declaration caught him completely off guard. As he attempted to muster a worthy rejection of the plan, Kiona ran with the idea, leaving him wide eyed and reeling as she implied to Ike that they were getting it on within hours of meeting each other.

“Oh fuck,” he uttered under his breath. He couldn’t blame Kiona for her naivety, but he’d dealt with enough raging overprotective types to know that Ike was going to be very concerned about a locked door now that she’d planted such an idea into his head.

Hearing Ike’s thunderous response from outside finally spurred Wolfgang to take control of the situation. When Kiona turned back to him, he grabbed her firmly by her elbows, stilling her shaking body as he forced her to look him in the eyes, “Slow. Down.” He waited until she had stopped speaking to drag her away from the door toward the far side of the room where he planted her to the floor. Although he couldn’t hide the harsh look in his eyes, his intentions weren’t to embarrass or berate Kiona, so he chose his words carefully and avoided the subject of her inappropriate proclamation, “You don’t need to run any more. Do you understand me?” he paused, searching her eyes for any indication that he was convincing her to stay put, “I will protect you,” he promised. And although he had never been the type to offer such cliched knightly vows, he knew for a fact that he would defend her with every fiber of his being from here on out. His wolf eagerly seconded that.

When Sasha entered the room, Wolfgang broke away from his intense staring match with Kiona. He looked at her guiltily, and although she couldn’t see him, he was sure she could sense that he was feeling responsible for what was transpiring. Unfortunately, there was no time to explain because Ike was about sixty seconds away from breaking the door down. Still gripping Kiona by the arm, he guided her into Sasha’s arms and corralled the women away from the front door, “I’ll handle it,” he insisted, “Just make sure she doesn’t go anywhere,” he told Sasha before turning back to face the front door as it was busted open and he was faced with the raging bull of a man that wanted him dead.

---

“What?!” Ike yelled back, feeling all sense of rational thought fly out the window at Kiona’s insinuation. That was all it took to ignite Ike’s short fuse as he glared into the half rotten wood that separated him from the others. It was a laughable barrier. Backing up a few steps, he inhaled a deep breath and charged the door, using his shoulder as a battering ram. The impact was loud and surely did some damage, but it wasn’t enough to break the lock. He repeated the action again and again. On the third try, he felt the door cave in as the metal deadbolt was busted into oblivion. The door, however, was stopped by a second barrier that only served to further irritate him. Bracing his arms in the door frame, he swung back and forward, slamming his foot into the center of the door. The force was enough to send the couch skidding across the floor, and the door swung limply open to reveal the scene within.

Ike’s eyes locked onto Wolfgang, who was standing defensively between himself and Kiona as though he were the threat. Fueled by rage and adrenaline, he did not pause to take in any details. Rather he fixated his resentment on the one person he could finally take it out on. Ike stormed into the house and vaulted himself over the back of the couch, landing in front of his target. Although Wolfgang perhaps had him beat on height, Ike had about 100 pounds of pure muscle on the man, who was still standing his ground despite the pitiful odds. He lunged forward and slammed his palms against the werewolf’s chest, sending him careening into the bookcases behind him. As leather bound books came raining down upon the man, Ike was already upon him. He pressed his hand into Wolfgang’s throat, pinning him against the shelves as he reared a fist back. Without hesitation, he punched Wolfgang in the face, feeling the satisfactory burn of his own knuckles from the blow.

“Don’t.” Ike already had his fist cocked as he prepared to continue the assault, but Wolfgang’s warning stopped him in his tracks. It wasn’t the word that captured his attention- it was the intensifying grip that Wolfgang had on his forearm with an illogical amount of strength. He locked eyes with the man and could see his pupils dilating, could feel his heart rate amplifying with the hand at his throat, and the burning heat of his skin. Ike wanted nothing more than to beat the foreigner’s face in until he forgot all about his failed mission and his pathetic bleeding heart, but he could sense what was coming without Wolfgang needing to say it aloud, “Don’t make me turn.”

Ike had two options under the circumstances. He could follow through with giving Wolfgang the beating of a lifetime and risk forcing the werewolf to rear its head, or he could kill the beast and it’s host before he got the chance to shift. For the first time since he’d barged into the house, his eyes turned to seek out Kiona. Now that he was taking a moment to pause, he considered the fact that Kiona had been lying about getting “busy” with the man. She knew just how to make his life a living hell, and yet he kept subjecting himself to more. Perhaps things had started out with him as her captor, but it was beginning to feel as though their roles were reversed as Ike groveled and bent over backwards to keep her safe in his own bizarre way. His eyes shifted to Sasha, and if Kiona wasn’t a reason enough to heed Wolfgang’s warning, then the healer certainly was. Where he came from, involving innocent bystanders in their work was a heinous act of negligence. And killing the man…well, the fall out would be unimaginable. That left the third and final option; mercy.

Without warning, Ike released Wolfgang with a final shove, forcing him to the ground, “Keep your filthy hands off of her,” he growled. He turned to confront Kiona, and it was clear that Wolfgang wasn’t the only one his anger was directed at. “What do I have to do?” He demanded to know, throwing his hands- still tinged pink from Kiona’s blood- out in a display of exasperation, “How many times do I have to save your life before you realize that I’m not going to hurt you? I’m not going back, and I’m certainly not bringing you back!” The outburst was raw and straight from the heart as Ike finally let the façade fall away. He no longer wanted Kiona’s fear and compliance- he wanted her trust.

For the first time during their weeks together, Ike lowered his eyes as one might when speaking to a royal. Although his own tribe revolted against the crown and he was a direct participant in their downfall, he felt the need to prove that he was turning his back on the people who wanted the last remaining princess dead, even if that meant demeaning himself, “So you’re stuck with me, because I’m not going anywhere until I know that you’re okay.”

Ike didn’t wait for a response- he didn’t need one. If Kiona left, he would follow. And if she stayed, then he would endure coexisting with the other werewolf for the sake of his new mission. He turned and exited the cabin, stomping down the front steps and back out into the wilderness. As he paused to inhale a deep breath and ground himself, he heard Hound’s bark in the distance. His eyes snapped open, and he scanned the tree line for any signs of Trys and her fiery red hair, but the landscape was bleak and colorless.

Hound had followed Alix’s scent with startling precision, leading Trys to the base of the tree within a few short minutes of tracking. He placed his paw against the trunk and followed his snout upwards, sniffing at the air until he had pinpointed the location of the man above. But before he could signal his success, Trys pulled on his collar and broke his concentration. He whined and tried to return to the tree, but Trys’ tugging ultimately won out as he was dragged away from the familiar scent. Clearly not sensing the danger that Trys was feeling, the bloodhound instead resorted to barking repeatedly at Alix’s hiding place to try to get his point across as he was led away.

Sasha held on to Kiona as Ike barged in, threatening to send an already precarious situation into overdrive. Her heart pounded in her chest around such violence, and everything inside of her tensed with memory she would never shake. Violence had never sat right with Sasha, and after she'd been beaten and blinded, hearing it unfold was absolutely traumatizing. The healer treated those who had been victims, but she was rarely around when it unfolded. She didn't know it, but the petite blonde woman was shaking by the time Ike released Wolfgang after his warning. She released Kiona when the girl tore away from her, leaving her reeling and trying to navigate the situation.

Ike's words snapped her out of it. The man, though wild and gruff, was profoundly loyal to the princess and it was a relief. With her fingers tightly laced in Artemis' fur, she focused her energy inward, soothing herself of the sudden terror that had come over her. She gulped in a few deep breaths as Ike left once again, and she sank down on the couch, listening as Kiona spoke to Wolfgang.

"You aren't okay, not right now. But you will be. Please... will you let us help you?"

__

Trys dragged Hound away from Alix, determined not to get herself killed or drag another predator towards the already tense cabin. She emerged from the brush, Hound in tow, moments after Ike had left the house. She'd heard the shouting, though it was incomprehensible from the distance. Whatever they'd been yelling about, she was about to throw another bombshell on Ike. Trys hoped that he could handle it. Whatever he ended up choosing to do, Trys would have his back. Alix wasn't aware that she knew he was there- that gave them some sort of advantage. Trys released Hound so that he could bound towards his owner, and Trys followed more slowly. As she neared, she took a deep breath and fixed her gaze on the mysterious, stoic man before her. "Someone is here," she whispered, wondering if he would understand with that simple statement.

Sasha let out a breath and ran her hands through her blonde hair, feeling her shoulders sink and release tension. When Ike backed off, she felt the room breathe easier. In lighter circumstances, she definitely would have made fun of Wolfgang for getting punched. No one could argue he didn't deserve it, karmically or otherwise. As Wolfgang suggested going to bed, she nodded in agreement. "It's getting late, and it's been a very rough day. Kiona... I hope that you will find this place to be a home. We are happy to have you with us, and I hope you're happy to stay." The woman offered a smile in Kiona's direction, and then moved down the hallway. She wondered if Wolfgang would drink himself to sleep, or if he'd stay up brooding, or if perhaps he would come find her to debrief. She hoped he chose the latter.

Sasha padded into her room once more and curled up on her bed, having left the door ajar. She waited, listening for sounds of footsteps.

--

Unaware that she had been about to earn an apology from the wild huntsman, Trys didn't waste time thinking about her hurt feelings. She wasn't really mad at him, so much as she was exhausted and stressed from the last few days. Her brief moment of respite had come in the form of tears, but she hadn't even had to process that before a new danger was lurking. When Ike confirmed what she meant, she gritted her teeth and took up her bow confidently, her fingers curling tightly around it. "What are you going to do?" she whispered under her breath as they followed Hound back through the brush, retracing their steps. Trys, for all her kindness and levelheadedness, was one bad moment away from snapping and going ballistic on whoever had followed them here. She wanted to breathe, gods damnit. She wanted to sleep and feel at peace and eat and not look over her shoulder. She wanted to bathe in warm water and enjoy the company of their new friends around a fire. Despite what she wanted, Trys knew that realistically, it would most likely never happen. Their danger was very real, and the reason for it was more important than being able to feel safe. For one brief moment, Trys wondered what she would have done if she had found Kiona in the snow and known what struggle it would bring when she saved her life. Would she still have done it?

Trys didn't have time to think about her answer before they arrived near the spot Alix had been lurking. Was he still here? Hound seemed to think so. She notched an arrow and nodded towards the brush, indicating that she would take cover there and watch his back. If Alix didn't know she was here, she would at least be able to provide an element of surprise if Ike couldn't handle it on his own.

--
Alix let out a breath as the dog and the girl left. If she had known of his presence, no doubt she would bring Ike back. Either her, or Hound. Either way, he didn't mind. In the end, he supposed it would be most honorable to let Ike know what would happen if he didn't come back with him and kill the princess. Perhaps Alix was sensitive still because of his age. Perhaps it was because he revered Ike in some way, despite the man's clear failings recently. Whatever was compelling them, he was content to allow Ike the opportunity to revoke his folly. And so, when Ike and Hound came into view, Alix decided the time was now. The man, clad from head to toe in black furs and soft leathers from the hides of hunted animals and beasts, dropped down from the tree and into the snow. As he straightened up from his dramatic little landing, he ran a leather clad glove through his thick dark curls and peeked up at Ike through that tangle as he rose, offering him a grin that indicated that there were nothing but friendly intentions on his mind.
"I should have known that dumb beast of yours would lead you to me. Hound," he called the dog to him, knowing the stupid thing would come. He was far too friendly, but his prowess at tracking had kept the dog alive. "I saw that girl of yours. Did her sweet snatch compel you to abandon your creed and your people?" He tilted his head as if asking a genuinely question, but his eyes showed his contempt.