there'll be oats in the water

[singmod]

JULY 2024 EVENT

PROMPT ONE — THE AURORA: REDUX: A storm finally arrives, and with it — Enola extends her hand to help the Interlopers once more, granting them new abilities.

PROMPT TWO — PENSIVE LOOKOUT: With the Forest Talker efforts focused on sabotaging hunting efforts, Interlopers can attempt to explore the Pensive Lookout Tower, where they can uncover secrets from the diary of Sam Bouchard — the former firewatch worker of the summer of 2014.

PROMPT THREE — A PEEK INSIDE: A group of Interlopers get their hands on one of the Forest Talkers in search of answers — and get a little more than they bargained for.

THE AURORA: REDUX

WHEN: Mid-month, for three days.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural/extreme weather; lightning storms; potentially disturbing dreams; dreams of being trapped in ice; dreams of animal death; dreams of the death of loved ones.


July brings warmer weather. The fog has lifted, and the daylight returned — but an odd kind of pressure lingers in the air, the kind that feels similar with oncoming storms but something still feels off about it all. Measurements and readings are erratic, with them often making little sense. It’s hard to predict just what might be coming, but sure enough something is coming.

Hold on a little longer, Enola told you. A storm is coming.

It comes quickly, the gathering of storm clouds. At first, it looks as if a kind of snowstorm is moving in, but there’s something else at play here. Within the grey, cloudy skies, there is a tell-tale sound of an Aurora mixed within those clouds.

And with it, in amongst the dark, the swirling colours. Greens, pinks and purples weaving through the clouds, almost mesmerising to watch. The air is alive with sound: static noise, cracks and pops: a storm and the Aurora mixed into one. For those who’ve been here long enough, it’s a worrying, unnerving sight. The storm rumbles with the low roar of distant thunder, growing ever closer. The electronics of the world begin to come alive, and in the static of it all — you begin to hear Enola’s voice even clearer than before.

After so much darkness, now there is so much light. A lightning storm — aurora colours mingling with the grey clouds, punctured with crackles of lightning. Something powerful and strange — flash forking across the skies, followed by booms of thunder.

The storm lasts three days, and even though her voice is soft — you hear it over all the noise, nestled gently in your ear.

“You're still here. It means something. This isn’t the end, I refuse to let it be the end. It can’t win. You won’t go into the Dark.” Enola tells you. ”I will make you more than what you are, more than what was stolen from you. This place will not be your end. I have to try. We have to try. Together. I showed some of you, once. I’ll show you again.”

She tells you to sleep. For some, they recognise this and realise what may end up happening. For others it feels like going out on a limb. But you sleep, and perhaps a dream may come to you.

COLD FUSION: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream of a great hall of ice: as if it had been carved into some great ridge of it. You walk through it, marvelling at the beauty of it — a blue gloom, echoing with each of your footsteps. But as you take one particular step, the ground cracks and collapses beneath you, sending you into dark, frozen waters. In seconds, the water freezes around you, encompassing you in thick ice, your entire body trapped within it. The coldness burns you, and you are stuck there — frozen in agony. The pain is immeasurable, your entire body crushed and searing from the ice. There is no escape, no reprieve.

A voice speaks to you, perhaps it is the voice of a stranger, perhaps it is the voice of someone you know: Do you know how you survive the cold?’ They ask you. You do not know, and you wait for the answer: ‘You become colder than it.

Your eyes close. You believe those words, you do. You must become colder than the cold itself. And so you will. Your breathing slows, your heart slows and the cold… it stops hurting, it doesn’t burn. The ice around you begins the crack.

When you awaken the first thing you realise is despite the temperature, you are completely cosy and warmed. You do not feel the slightest chill. It is perhaps only once you are around other than you truly notice the difference to you — you are cold to the touch, lacking the heat you once had. An understanding comes: you are at one with the cold, it will not beat you, it will not cause you agony. Winter is at peace within you: perfect Cold Fusion.

MOON TOUCHED: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream of running through the silent woods at night. The moon is full above you, the air is calm and still. Hunger draws you forward, everything is so sharp and vivid in your senses, even in this dreamscape. You hear the crispness of the snow beneath your feet, smell the scent of the pines on the air, feel how warm you are against the coldness around you.

The snuffling of a rabbit catches your attention, and you swiftly leap after it, jaws opening and closing around its neck as you capture it. You bite down hard, feeling the crunch of its bones as they break, the sweet coppery taste of blood filling your mouth and nose. You lift your head towards the stars, blood on your tongue. You realise you are not a person at all, but a beast on all fours: a wolf, content and filling your belly with meat.

You wonder, for a brief moment: were you ever a person at all?

You do not know the answer to the question. You do not seem to worry about such a thing but there’s a flash of warning on the air. Something you cannot quite place, but you know that you should not forget it.

When you awaken, you feel… different, somehow. Everything seems a little sharper, as if the world around you had been dull, or behind some pane of frosted glass. With it comes a strange balance of calmness and chaos, tameness and wildness, fear and bravery. You find yourself looking for the moon in the skies and when you finally find it, it hits you — this is what it means to be Moon Touched.

INTERLOPER’S SACRIFICE: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape and then fade into nothing. You dream of kneeling in a darkened, charred wood. You are not alone. In this dreamscape, you dream of a loss, or a time you have never felt more helpless in your life. Perhaps it is when someone you knew died before you, or you stood as someone was sick and injured and you were unable to do a thing. As you kneel, they are there with you: sick or dying or even dead in your arms. You cannot do anything but hold them, and the helplessness is overwhelming.

You look up and a woman in furs stands before you, her expression solemn. Enola herself. There are tears in her eyes, as if she shares the very pain you do: the loss, the grief, the hopelessness, the powerlessness. She approaches you and lowers herself to kneel in front of you and your companion, bracing your shoulders for a long, lingering moment. There are no words, none from neither of you.

Enola shifts slightly, leans forwards. She kisses your forehead, much like when a parent kisses their child: sweet and tender.

And then you feel it, as if you are set alight: an agonising pain that encompasses you whole — so painful you cannot even open your mouth to scream. You feel yourself growing weak, the corners of your vision blurring into black. It feels as if you might die from the pain, and you want for it to stop but it doesn’t.

Enola pulls away and you gasp, slumping in exhaustion, but still alive, somehow. You stare at her, sweating and clamouring for breath, and she offers you a sad smile. Never again. you feel the words inside of you. This time, it will be different. Better.

When you awaken, you can still feel the kiss upon your forehead — enough to make your fingers reach up to touch it, your entire body tingling a little. A small voice in the back of your mind whispers, reminding you as you find yourself looking down at your hands: never again. Never again, you tell yourself and the comprehension comes to you: you have chosen. This is what it means to be: this is your sacrifice. The Interloper’s Sacrifice.

NOTHING: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape, but only for a moment. The edges of your vision begin the blur with black, slowly closing in until everything goes dark and you fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. You awaken, and although you feel rested, as if the dreamless darkness has helped you feel a little more ready to take on the day — nothing else about you has changed.

PENSIVE LOOKOUT

WHEN: The month of July.
WHERE: Pensive Lookout Tower, Lakeside.
CONTENT WARNINGS: themes of survival; possible fall injuries/treacherous climbs; themes of terror; themes of diminished sanity; themes of starvation.

The Old Hunting Lodge is located in the southern-most area of Lakeside, and its surrounding area is generally considered no-go territory with the presence of the Forest Talkers. As June turned into July, the Forest Talker’s presence in the wilds of Lakeside has begun to grow again — but their efforts appear to be focused on sabotaging the efforts of Interlopers, Methuselah and Young Bill in hunting fresh game. If anything, it could mean that with attentions drawn away — perhaps the braver sorts of the Interlopers can explore the area a little more fully.

There’s little in terms of buildings of interest in this area. The wilderness is thick and deep here. Perhaps the odd ransacked cabin once belonging to a local may be stumbled across — its contents picked clean, presumably by the Forest Talkers. Many of these buildings will be completely inhabitable due to the damage done — with some cabins being razed to the ground.

However, on higher ground, with a good hike to access it, stands a watch tower.

These lookout towers could mean a number of things: a chance to access supplies that may have otherwise been forgotten about due to the hike to get up there, a better view of the surrounding area, and the possibility of a radio — given the sign of a radio transmitter that can be found blinking a feeble red on Aurora nights.

With the snow on the ground it’s a little more treacherous, but given the circumstances, anything’s worth a shot, right? Those who attempt the hike may fall foul to slips and trips along the steep slow to reach the tower, and should take care in the ascent. Even with the warmth of July, it’s difficult. One might hope this might make the place a decent outpost, if you think about it. Somewhere hard to reach, and with such a vantage point.

Reaching the tower and climbing it to its interior will it largely intact but a mess. Someone has lived here for some time. Interlopers will find no food here, but some useful tools that belonged to the lookout: binoculars, maps, a compass, an alidade. There is even a radio sat upon a desk, and with it — a journal.

The journal, Interlopers will find, belonged to a man named Sam Bouchard — the firewatcher for the season during the previous year, detailing the months of his arrival and ending in November last year. It is unknown what happened to Sam, but his journal will perhaps offer some insight and even some information.

A PEEK INSIDE

WHEN: The month of July.
WHERE: The Gas Station, Milton.
CONTENT WARNINGS: themes of kidnapping; imprisonment; self-starvation; blood/minor injuries; psychological torment, supernatural abilities.

The Forest Talkers have a long history in the Northern Territories, long before Interlopers started arriving in Milton. Champions of nature, they have sought to put an end to the industries and tourism-related expansions in the Lakeside area, first peacefully and then… not-so-peacefully. But with the events known as the ‘The Flare’ last year, Forest Talkers have been… acting peculiarly, disturbingly, aggressively.

There are plenty of questions to be asked. But the Forest Talkers are difficult to communicate with. Previous attempts have ended up in aggression or being ignored entirely. And now, even with the events of the previous month coming to an end — game remains difficult to find, and Forest Talkers are keen on sabotaging any attempts of hunting made by Interlopers, Young Bill or Methuselah. And more importantly: what is the yawning grave?

It starts as mutterings between tired and disgruntled Interlopers. They need answers, and there’s got to be a way in trying to get some. They’re hungry and exhausted and so many of their numbers are now dead. Those mutterings grow, and soon enough a plan is put into place. A small group of Interlopers embark into Lakeside and wait.

Soon enough, it bears fruit. A man is captured, bound and blindfolded — quietly and secretly brought back to Milton to be held up in the unused Gas Station to be questioned. It is not the leader, but surely one of them is better than no one at all. He is injured, but not enough to kill him. It will prove challenging in trying to get answers out of him, but soon enough the Interlopers will get him to talk.

News of the Forest Talker in their midst will inevitably spread, as most things do in small communities. Secrets are hard to guard. It won’t be just those behind the kidnapping who might end up coming across the man being held in the Gas Station.

Anyone who goes to investigate will find the man sat on the floor in quiet contemplation. Attempts of conversation will be met with long, silent stares — holding your gaze for an uncomfortably long time. He will spurn any gestures of kindness: spit on the floor at Interloper’s feet, refuse any food offered — as if the man has chosen to starve himself in protest. He says nothing, at first.

But after some time, he will look into an Interloper’s eyes and utter something. A word. A phrase. It may be a name, or a place. It may be a specific thing an Interloper has read, or been spoken to by someone. Something that holds meaning to the Interloper. It may be the name of a loved one from home, or the last words ever spoken to you by a friend. Something the man shouldn’t know.

Whatever it is that he speaks to you, it is not something that will fill you with hope or fondness to remember — but quite the opposite. A reminder of something painful, of a loss, or some other thing that caused you misery. As if he had reached right inside your mind and plucked some painful part of your past from you and spoken it to the wind.

The Forest Talker smiles, and will say nothing else. The damage has already been done.

FAQs

THE AURORA: REDUX

1. The next three Aurora Feats are unlocked! Please see the following page for more information.

2. Aurora Feats are completely optional.

3. Interlopers will only receive ONE Aurora Feat. The only time this is available is this month. After July, players will have to wait for the next Feat round for another chance at an Aurora Feat.

4. This Aurora/storm will last a full three days, darkening the skies almost to night.

PENSIVE LOOKOUT

1. Interlopers who dwell in the lookout for the next Aurora will find the radio works, albeit poorly. They will be able to pick up the same broken morse code message.

2. There are no signs of blood/injury that befell Sam in the lookout. It appears he made good on what he wrote on in his journal and attempted to leave to get to Silverpoint.

A PEEK INSIDE

1. While only a small number was involved in the kidnapping itself, anyone can discover the fact there's a Forest Talker being held in Milton.

2. In terms of appearance, the Forest Talker is very much your typical average white guy. Bearded, weathered by the cold, someone who's lived several years without much in the way of comforts or luxuries.

PLOTTING POST

Comments

a, time for some woof/woof action;

[powersuited]

[ The dream itself had been vivid, unmistakable in its clarity — all of Snow's senses turned up to eleven as she runs through the woods at an impossible speed, so much faster than she ever believed she'd be capable of. The aftermath of the Aurora, which left her untouched before, finds her compelled, upon waking, to return to the woods again — to embrace those instincts that had felt so intense before, imbuing her with a power the likes of which she's never felt before.

It may not come as any surprise, then, that Bigby's wolf stumbles upon another one soon enough during his woodland wanderings — this one smaller, her coat pure white in color, her eyes a crystal-clear blue. Perhaps something about her feels familiar as she peeks out from around the wide trunk of the closest tree, seeming cautious and a little nervous, as well as awkward in this form. Inside, Snow doesn't know how she recognizes this other wolf, but she knows she recognizes him from somewhere, feels a kinship she can't completely identify, alongside the assurance that he won't attack her when she finally emerges.

Slowly, she pads out from behind the tree, the soft breath she huffs in greeting visible in the air. She'll venture even closer, if he doesn't move, if he remains standing completely still, until she can sit down on her haunches in front of him and study him with a distinct tilt of her head. ]

[bigbaddy]

[ Considering the sheer amount of wolves suddenly out here, Bigby has already figured that the dream wasn't a simple matter of him getting his very specific powers back. The fact that he doesn't look quite like the usual - he's smaller than his usual unnatural size, for one - helps him realise as much too. Rather than granting him back his own nature, it seems that this place is just transforming people into wolves now. Not just him.

And of course this other wolf stands out in that context. Most of the wolves around town have been some shade of brown or grey, or even black like him. But a white wolf? He hasn't seen one of those yet. Something about her eyes seems so familiar.

It's neither of those two things that makes Bigby realise what's going on here though. No, it's the scent. It's mixed in with something else, doubtlessly because Snow is a wolf now, but he recognizes it as her scent right away. He's spent too much time intensively smelling it in the air all the time to not recognize it even now, despite the few recent months where he hasn't been able to.

It is Snow. And she is--

.. she's a wolf.

It's a realisation that hits Bigby so hard that he doesn't even move right away. He can't. The fact that Snow is a wolf just has too many implications. The implication that she's like him now, for one, but-- There's also just the fact she's so beautiful. Bigby already thought she was beautiful as a woman, but it's like that idea has been intensified even further by seeing her as a wolf now. Snow is gorgeous no matter the form. His heart feels like it's going crazy, and only even crazier when she approaches him, when she sits down right in front of him. She only looks better up close, and.. she's a wolf. She's really a wolf.

(Is he dreaming?)

He leans forward, though the movement is slow enough that it likely doesn't immediately read as overly threatening. Bigby doesn't intend for it to be, after all. He wants to be intimidating around a lot of people, but not around her. Never around her. Instead he's just leaning in so he can put his head into her neck. He lightly - but audibly - sniffs, like he's encouraging her to do the same.

That way she might be able to smell a very familiar scent of cigarettes in his fur, after all. ]

[powersuited]

[ There are so many other things that pull at her senses now, too many — Snow almost doesn’t know where to look or what to smell, or if she should turn and start running after the first intense scent she picks up on. But instinctively, she knows better than to run away, knows that if she runs, the other wolf might chase her, and then what would happen next?

She hasn’t come across any other wolves yet, if there are any — at least, none that she recognizes, and beyond that, it hasn’t even occurred to her yet that Bigby might be able to change now. Bigby, who’s been cut off from a part of himself for so long — she realizes with some urgency now that she has to tell him about this, has to show him —

But then the bigger, darker wolf nudges his snout into her and Snow stills; it’s a vulnerable point, her throat, and he could just as easily set teeth to it if he wanted, bite down hard and draw blood. Instead, he just snuffles, learning her scent, and she takes her cue from him, slowly turning her head until she can shove her nose directly into his neck, inhaling in short little breaths.

Her eyes go wide with revelation and she springs up to stand, tail not just wagging but lashing in excitement; she shoves into him more directly to confirm her suspicions, but he smells so intensely like Bigby that she has to pull back just enough to look him in the eye — and sure enough, those are the eyes of his wolf, albeit set in a smaller form, regarding her carefully.

She tries to speak but all that comes out is a yipping sound, excited chattering; she butts her head against his in a firmer greeting, nuzzling up under his chin. Does he recognize her too? It’s killing her not to be able to talk, but maybe he can still understand her like this, some form of wolf-speak that she’s trying to learn. ]

[bigbaddy]

[ Her form of wolf-speak is a little clumsy. It's clearly not necessarily the natural actions a wolf might take upon feeling a certain emotion - more the human equivalent of those emotions being translated into wolf-speak.

But Bigby still gets what she's getting at. Of course he does. It's Snow. He may not always understand her, and they may have their - frequent - disagreements, but it's not that difficult to recognize the human-translated-to-wolf version of excitement. Especially when she's practically shoving herself against him with enthusiasm in order to express it.

It makes him glad too. He can't smile as a wolf, obviously, but he can feel a warm comfortable feeling spreading on the inside. It helps that Snow doesn't seem all that worried about being a wolf in this moment, which makes it all feel more natural. As if - somehow - it isn't that strange for them to be like this. For Snow to meet him on his level.

It's exciting.

Which probably makes it real obvious to her that he definitely recognizes her - because the excitement leads to him pouncing her. At first it might seem like an attack, forcing her down into the snow, but it doesn't take more than a moment before the excitement is obvious. The darker wolf doesn't bother to attack her at all. Instead he just moves down to nuzzle her, to roll around in the snow together with her. It's the sort of thing Bigby wouldn't dare do in their human forms, but like this, it's--

Maybe it's okay. Even if it's just for a moment, even if it's just for now, even if he might have to explain himself later, he just.. he wants this right now. His own wagging tail as they roll around makes that very clear. ]

[powersuited]

[ There's no way for Snow to form the same words that are all on the precipice of her thoughts; her mouth can't shape them the same way, her tongue lolling and heavier when it's not really meant to serve the same purpose. But the emotions behind what she wants to say are still present, especially because it feels like there's no barrier at all between what she's feeling and the need she has to express it immediately, rather than figuring out the right way to phrase it first.

That lack of filter makes her movements all the more instinctive and less inhibited as a consequence, and even while Bigby — the wolf she recognizes as Bigby now — doesn't necessarily greet her in the same way, she can tell he knows her too. He might have discerned her before she was even able to pinpoint what her senses were telling her, since there's less of a learning curve for him with these kinds of capabilities.

While there's probably a bigger question hovering over all of this — like how the hell she ended up with the ability to turn into a wolf in the first place — she just feels less alone in it all, reassured by his presence. That excitement she feels, however, is enough of a distraction that when he pounces on her, rolling her into the snow, she playfully makes an attempt to fight back with the awareness that he is still bigger and stronger.

There's no real bite in the teeth that gently close over his ear, tugging slightly. She's not trying to rip or tear at flesh as her paws bat at his chest, just distract him long enough that she can worm her way out from where she's been pinned against the snow. Her own tail is still wagging, a soft growl escaping her; if he wants to knock her down, she's not going to surrender that easily without some form of retaliation as they kick up powdery snow in their wake. ]

[bigbaddy]

[ Considering some of the fights Bigby has gotten into as a wolf - a younger wolf, something closer to a regular wolf, way back before he grew so much in size - this doesn't feel threatening in any way at all. It's so easy for him to read body language, even Snow's kind that's a little off from any actual wolf. He can tell when someone is coming at him with malicious intent, and the way she's only slightly chomping down on his ear is nothing like that.

If anything, it feels affectionate in a way nothing really has for Bigby for a long time now as a wolf. When was the last time anyone showed him affection while he was like this? Maybe it was his mother, way back. Literal ages ago.

It makes it feel even more important that it's Snow of all people this time. The first person he let into his heart, his mother, and the last person he did-- Snow.

He teases her for a few more moments, throwing a little bit more weight into the game to make sure she doesn't get up, but then he yields before it might get too annoying for her. Bigby moves aside to give her some space, and instead he lets himself drop into the snow, rolling around contently for a moment before settling in.

His gaze is definitely still on her though, the entire time. It may be harder for Snow to tell when she isn't as used to the way wolves look as he does, but something about his gaze when he looks at her is utterly mesmerized. ]

[powersuited]

[ The first indication that this isn't a real fight between the wolves, at least not one rooted in aggression or territorial behavior, is the fact that both of their tails are wagging; Snow's is thumping against the cold ground, kicking up white drifts around them, even as Bigby uses his weight to pin her down, making it difficult for her to move. If she was really putting the effort in, she might be able to worm her way free, wriggle out from underneath him and try to wrestle him further for top positioning, but the halfhearted way she pushes at him with her paws should be enough of a sign that she's not trying all that hard in the first place.

She bites, tugs at his ear and then more playfully licks at it, soothing over the illusion of any injury that she might have caused him through the usage of teeth, and by then, he shifts off of her, settling along her side and enabling her to roll back over onto her stomach, slowly pushing herself up to sitting as she regards him rolling around in the snow with a subtle cocking of her head. The snow is cold against her paws, but in a way that makes her feel invigorated, and her fur coat is thick enough that the winter temperatures are easier to bear.

It may be difficult to tell what she's thinking, her features shaped so differently from the way they are when she's in her normal form, but her eyes are still the same, keen and studying, and after a beat, she leans down to gently push her nose into the side of his face, nuzzling more blatantly.

It doesn't occur to Snow, while she's like this, that she's essentially trying to mark him with her scent as well as acquire his in the process; it just occurs to her as the next natural thing to do, an instinct she doesn't hesitate with. It's possible, then, that she doesn't realize this is one of the instincts her wolf has, and what it means for her to initiate this with him; it only feels right in the moment itself, so why would she question it? ]

[bigbaddy]

[ That's the thing, isn't it. Snow may not realize the nuances of what she's doing here, but of course Bigby understands it. It's not the sort of thing he's ever really done with anyone even back when he was a wolf, but he knows what it is. He knows what it means. And he knows it's instinctive.

.. which means.. it must be instinctive for her too, right? Even if she's not usually a wolf? There's no way Snow would do this out of nowhere as a conscious decision, so--

Bigby stills a little, but he doesn't move away from her in the slightest, allowing her to nuzzle at him all she wants. It's just that he's stunned by this turn of events, his brain frantically trying to figure out what it means that Snow is doing this. Is she into him? Is she somehow into him after all?! Is it just because they're wolves now?

He wants to ask her. And yet he doesn't. Because he wants to hear her say yes, but fears the heartbreak of a no.

It's a problem for future Bigby, he thinks. The Bigby of a little while later, when they'll head back to town together, when they'll be able to talk as humans rather than as wolves.

Present Bigby would like to just enjoy it. It's like the cold doesn't even exist all around them when his heart feels so warm to know she's trying to scent him - so he takes it in, careful to not further roll away in the snow. Instead he lightly nuzzles back at her, to show her that it's reciprocated before she might realize what she's doing and get all startled over it. ]

[powersuited]

[ There are some instincts Snow knows she doesn't fully understand yet, impulses she's trying to get a handle on — all of this is so new, and unfamiliar, and intense, and she feels like she's being led around purely by the next thing she wants to sense, or sniff, or perceive.

The one thought that keeps looping around in her mind like a refrain, though, is that she's relieved to have someone who understands all of it to show her what to do, and even while she's gently butting her face against Bigby's, the sentiment behind the initiation is there — appreciation, gratitude, and maybe a whole tangle of other confusing feelings that she's too distracted to interrogate.

She finally lifts her head, but her face starts to scrunch up in a telltale way before she huffs a breath and then sneezes, so much of his scent filling her senses that all she can do is try to clear her nose. She sneezes a few times in a row, then looks up almost sheepishly, embarrassed by her overeagerness, but then drops down next to him in the snow, shouldering in along his side the way she might if they were sitting next to each other and she could lean over to bump her arm against his.

It's not concerning to her, at all, that she can't talk to him, that she can't open her mouth and verbalize anything that sounds remotely like words; they seem to be able to communicate with each other just fine, and in some ways, it might be better that they can't speak, that she's only capable of looking into his eyes, even if she can't necessarily tell what he's thinking solely from that. ]

[bigbaddy]

[ They stay like that for a while.

The longer they're out here, the more Bigby can feel the cold starting to penetrate even his fur, but he doesn't really care right now. He's very reluctant to stop what's going on here, like something might break if he tries to move - a very similar sort of feeling to what he felt when she moved to lie down in bed with him when he was barely conscious and couldn't really move.

.. eventually he knows they can't stay like this though. For a variety of reasons. Especially when Snow isn't used to being a wolf yet - it doesn't feel good for her to stay in this form for too long, Bigby figures, even if he knows very little about the exact boundaries of the ability this place has granted them.

So he slowly gets up. He shakes off the snow from his fur, and then moves to gently nudge her with his snout to try and get her to get up as well.

If she does, he'll start to lead her back towards town - and back towards the house, Snow might realise pretty quickly. Bigby is a big enough wolf that he manages to open the door just by shoving his full body weight against it, no thumbs necessary, and then steps into the house..

.. and then realises he can't just transform back, huh. If it was anyone else, sure, but in front of Snow of all people?

The wolf suddenly moves a little more quickly, off into Bigby's room, and the moment he transforms back to his human form he rushes to put his pants back on, just in case. He isn't sure whether Snow was catching on to what he was trying to do, and for all he knows she could be trying to follow him in here. ]

[powersuited]

[ While Snow's never really felt all that comfortable in extreme temperatures, maybe being a wolf allows her to withstand some of the cold a bit more than she would in just a winter coat. There's no doubt that some of it has to do with Bigby's closeness, though, and the warmth she can leech off of him in a move similar to when she was curled up in bed beside him not that long ago.

Still, even she knows, or seems to sense, when it's time to move, to get up and head back inside, and while there's a small part of her that recognizes she needs to shift back too, she mostly occupies herself by following him at a casual trot, tracking the familiar path back through the woods and toward the house she knows almost as well as she does her own. In fact, she has been spending more time here than she has in her own place, at least while Bigby had been on the mend.

Bigby diverts into another room, and Snow glances around, taking in the sight of things from a different height — but then she feels the shift beginning to happen, instinctively, like she's starting to cast off her wolf form by virtue of being surrounded by more civilization.

Only too late does she realize, with horror, that she doesn't have any clothes, and before Bigby can reenter the room, Snow ducks down behind the couch, arms instinctively wrapping around herself, her hair spilling down long past her shoulders, her eyes wide. When the floor creaks to announce his return, she tries to call out to him first, stopping him before he can get too far into the living room. ]

Wait, wait! I don't — Could I... maybe borrow something to wear until I get home?

[bigbaddy]

[ The plan was to head back once he had some clothes on to offer to grab some of hers from her house for her, or maybe Snow would realize to go back to her own house for a moment to change back into some clothes, but--

Nope. Apparently that isn't happening. And Bigby only realizes it when he moves to enter the room, hears Snow's voice, catches a glimpse of skin peeking out from the couch-- and subsequently feels like he's having a heart attack.

If having seen Snow as a wolf wasn't enough, then surely having her scent him like that would have done the trick - but it's a three-punch now, with this added on top of it. Snow is in his house. Naked. Bigby can feel his heart racing as he runs back into his room, gathering clothes, and then running back out to the living room with his eyes closed.

(He may be a beast, but he's not that kind of beast, okay.) ]

Uh--

[ He swallows, trying to hide his fluster, but it's definitely present in his tone as he says: ]

H-Here. I'm not looking, but I'll leave them here on the ground for you. And I'll be-- [ ... ] Uh, I'll wait in the kitchen. [ Because he needs a drink. He ran out of smokes recently, so he definitely needs a drink after all this, god, please tell him March left his bottle of booze here after his last visit--

Bigby is already ducking out towards the kitchen before Snow can get a reply in, but true to his word, he did leave clothes for her. One random pair of his pants, and then - considering Bigby did only put on pants so far, and isn't wearing this right now - his usual shirt from back home. Don't think too hard about wearing that one, Snow. Or just how much it smells like him. ]

[powersuited]

[ One day, maybe, this'll all get easier. One day, maybe, Snow won't feel vastly in over her head with regard to all of this — but right now, she doesn't know how to stop the shift in either direction. One moment she's standing in a room as herself, the next she's a wolf, and apparently it can happen in the exact opposite way, but she doesn't have a second to be embarrassed or try to find a better place to hide, not when she has to worry about Bigby finding her like this. ]

Sorry, I don't — this is all so new to me still, I don't even know how it happened in the first place, and I would've gone back to my place if I'd known —

[ She calls out the rest of that to him, almost helplessly, as he immediately turns tail and runs back into his room, leaving her to wonder, for a brief moment, if he's actually fleeing instead of grabbing her something to wear. But then he reappears, and the sight of him holding clothes is actually more reassuring than it fills her with anxiety. He isn't looking in her direction; in fact, his eyes are completely closed, a fact that brings a slow, close-lipped smile to her face, one she fights to keep from spreading as Bigby sets the pile of clothes down on the floor.

Once he's crossed into the kitchen, she moves, not standing up fully from her crouch as she grabs the clothing and then ducks into his bedroom to change behind the door. She dresses hurriedly, yanking up the pants and buttoning the dress shirt together across her front, even though she has to roll up the cuffs on the latter so that the sleeves down't slip past her hands.

Reappearing with a somewhat sheepish look, she pads into the kitchen barefoot, crossing her arms over her chest with more embarrassment than an attempt to close herself off. The fact that this shirt smells even more obviously like him isn't lost on her — it's like she can notice these things more keenly than before — but she stops short when she realizes he's not wearing a shirt himself, her gaze helplessly dragging over the expanse of his chest before snapping up to his face. ]

Sorry about that, I... [ She chuckles once, mostly at herself. ] I said that already, didn't I?

[bigbaddy]

[ Alas. It seems that he and March truly drank all that the other guy had brought along, since Bigby sure didn't find that drink he was looking for in the kitchen. It's left him awkwardly standing there, leaning with his back against the sink while waiting for her to show up.

... and then she does. Clearly Bigby didn't really think through what he brought her. Maybe he should instead have grabbed some of Connor's clothes, especially since they're a little smaller, but-- look, he had been panicking.

But the sight of her in his shirt threatens to make him panic all over again. Especially with all this in quick succession. Snow is a wolf now. A beautiful wolf. She scented him, she's wearing his shirt, she's--

He steps away from the sink, instead taking a step or two towards her. Bigby's mind isn't on his own state of (un)dress at all, his entire mind instead taken over by her as he stares at her. ]

You're fine, Snow.

[ His voice is surprisingly gentle, despite all the fluster he's been dealing with. Hell, despite the fluster he's dealing with right now.

He just understands she's got to be overwhelmed. She seems like it. If Bigby's feelings have ever come at a more inappropriate moment, he's not aware of it, and so he pushes them down in favor of focusing on her, of trying to reassure her.

He reaches out, placing a gentle hand on the side of her arm. ]

How are you feeling now? It's all pretty natural for me, but.. it's got to be a lot to deal with for you, right?

[powersuited]

[ The tension Snow had been holding in her shoulders, brought on by embarrassment — or maybe something closer to extreme mortification — slackens at his reassurance, and while her gaze is more watchful, observant as he approaches her, she isn't on her guard, isn't anticipating something sudden or unexpected from him. It's more subdued than her approach to him in the woods had been, not high-strung or overly excited, but it calms her, and she's not even thinking about the fact that it has to do with their increased proximity to each other. ]

Natural? [ She scoffs a little, but not cruelly, more disbelievingly, her face adopting a somewhat incredulous look as her mouth curves in a smile. ] It's got to feel great, doesn't it? Being able to change after all this time?

[ But he's expressing concern about her, and she can't fully pretend that this hasn't been a lot to take in, that her head isn't currently swimming from all the things she can perceive so much more intensely. She wants to curl up under a blanket and sleep, but she also wants to shove her nose in the collar of this shirt and breathe in the scent that still clings to it. ]

That's putting it mildly. It's... overwhelming, I guess, but also kind of exciting? And I have this weird, inexplicable craving to eat rabbit. I'm not even sure I like rabbit.

[ Before she can get too swept up in her own anxieties, she takes a breath, sagging a little into the hand that gently settles against her arm, and looks over to him with a small smile. ] It's okay, though, if I have questions about anything? You're sort of the expert with all of this.

[bigbaddy]

Totally fine.

[ It's an answer without hesitation, and he doesn't remove his hand from her arm. ]

For example-- rabbit tastes pretty great. I could get you one sometime. [ Because it's not like he's going to tell her to hunt one as a wolf right away. Snow is clearly overwhelmed, and.. Bigby gets that she'll have to ease into this.

Even if there's one aspect of this entire wolf thing that he feels like he has to address with her right now. It feels too important to not do it. It does feel like it might be a little too much for her right now, but-- better for her to know than for her to find out much later and potentially be even more mortified, right?

Because Bigby can't imagine Snow feeling anything but mortified at this particular reveal. ]

But.. about what happened out there.

[ Hence why he starts on this, slowly pulling his hand off her and back towards himself. ]

Did you realize what you were doing? [ It's a bit of a vague question, yes, but he doesn't want to make it too leading of a question by being more specific. Bigby has to know just.. what was up with that back there. It can't be that Snow really is that into him, so..

Wolf instinct, probably?

But he might as well ask. He might as well see what she's got to say - hoping, meanwhile, that he looks a whole lot calmer than his rapidly beating heart makes him feel like. ]

[powersuited]

[ Snow's instinctive reaction is to chuckle — she can recognize his offer of rabbit for what it is, an attempt to make her feel less self-conscious about the weird, unexpected instincts she's suddenly forced to navigate — but his follow-up does give her pause, not the least of which is because she suddenly notices the absence of his touch on her, the lack of it that doesn't quite make her bristle, but still guard herself against whatever he's about to say next. ]

What about it?

[ Confusion blossoms over her features when he asks her whether or not she was aware of what she'd been doing, but her first instinct is to shake her head. Of course she hadn't realized, not when all of this is completely untrod territory on her side. ]

Why, did I do something wrong?

[ Leave it to her to, in her lack of awareness, initiate something that would be considered a major wolf faux pas, especially when Bigby hadn't been in a position to tell her otherwise. Neither of them had uttered a word, but from what she'd been able to perceive at the time, everything had felt... fine. Right, even. She hadn't even thought to question it because of that.

But the longer she looks at Bigby, the more pleading her gaze becomes. ]

Tell me. Please. If it's... I want to know.

[bigbaddy]

It's not-- [ He opens his mouth, quickly wanting to reassure her, but having to think about his exact wording here halfway through speaking up. ] It's not exactly wrong.

[ It's wrong in the sense that he thinks Snow wouldn't have wanted to do that if she had known what it meant when she did it - but it's not like there's anything objectively wrong about it that she should be worrying about otherwise.

He gives her arm a reassuring pat, but then finally does pull his hand back. ]

Remember what you did to me, right before we headed back? You were scenting me. [ Truthfully, he's not all that sure just how much or how little Snow knows about the natural world. The animals she dealt with probably were very different from wolves.. ] That's something wolves do, rubbing themselves against the other to try and get their scent on the other wolf. They do it when they're..

[ ...

This is the difficult part of the explanation, isn't it. Mostly in the sense that it's taking him a lot of effort to not start blushing at this. Not like Bigby is a prude, but-- he's still saying this to her of all people. To the one person he'd want to be together with like that. ]

You know. When they're a couple, I mean.

[ See what he meant now by not exactly wrong, Snow? Maybe it is a social faux pas in a sense, but Bigby doesn't mind it one bit.

(He kind of wonders if other people would be able to smell her on him now.) ]

[powersuited]

Not exactly?

[ Snow's not feeling entirely comforted by that answer, especially since it sounds like Bigby is trying to couch his words in a certain way so that she doesn't immediately freak out. Joke's on him; she can already feel her blood pressure spiking, her mind racing as she tries to think back to being out there in the woods, surrounded by so many overwhelming scents and sounds and at the mercy of all of them thanks to her stronger senses. Bigby had been the only thing powerful enough to override all of that, a constant point to fix her attention on, rather than embracing the temptation to bury her nose in the snow and try to drown it out.

She has to replay their meeting out in the woods in her head, parsing through each individual beat that she'd only embraced instinctively before. Greeting Bigby the way she had, playing with him, rubbing herself against him — it had all felt normal and fine and right in the moment, but apparently, whatever she had done with him is only meant to be done if —

Snow's eyes widen, first in surprise and then in concern, as she looks down at herself, wearing his shirt, his clothes, and then back up at Bigby, and before she can second-guess it she's already leaning in, closing some of the distance between them so she can sniff the air around him, trying to suss out if what he's saying is true and he actually does smell like her now. ]

You're saying I... initiated... some kind of wolf mating thing. With you.

[bigbaddy]

[ There's a slight, affirmative hum, followed by a nod of Bigby's head.

Leaning in like this, Snow might be able to pick up on the scent. Not as easily as she'd be able to in wolf form, but considering how strong their respective scents are and how different both of those are, it's easy to at least pick up on the fact that there's definitely something else mixing with Bigby's usual scent of heavy smoke and cigarettes. Something that smells more like Snow.

Bigby doesn't actually verbally add anything. Not at first, anyway. He's not sure what to say, especially since he doesn't want to say the wrong thing and chase her away entirely. All of this feels so precarious right now - like they're at a limit, a border, and Bigby isn't sure which way they'll fall. ]

.. It's alright. [ He slowly manages.

But what else does he say. I don't mind? Sure, it'd be the truth, but it might also reveal a little bit too much, especially when Snow might not take that as just nonchalance, when she might look into his eyes and see the truth behind that statement.

So there's another moment of hesitation, and then: ]

You don't have to worry about it.

[ Better. More neutral. He first has to see Snow's reaction to all of this before he can say more, and he hopes that there words will at least lessen her potential panic if she sees he isn't freaking out about it. ]

[powersuited]

[ The thing is, Bigby's scent is something Snow already recognizes — that brand of cigarettes she almost can't stand paired with remnants of whiskey and occasionally a strong cup of coffee. Now, however, she can perceive the dimensions in it, layers — the smell of the wilderness that seems to live amid the rest of it, the truest part of his nature that lurks underneath the surface of the more obvious notes. She knows she wouldn't be able to tell as much without these strange powers she has now, but it gives her a different perspective on what she might have successfully overlooked before.

Now, however, the closer she lingers, the more she can tell that he is covered in another scent, one distinctly different from anything she would ever affiliate with him, and there's no other way to describe it in her head other than a certainty that it's her.

Bigby's words are reassuring — initially, that is, but when he says what he does next, Snow balks, rearing back with a look of minute surprise that quickly dissolves into a dry, disbelieving chuckle. ]

That's the thing, Bigby; I'm not worried. Even knowing that I've essentially... marked you in some way, the only thought I keep having is that I don't want to leave. Like I'm right where I'm supposed to be, here with you, and anything else would just feel... wrong.

[ He looks steadier about this than she is, and it is comforting in its own way, but it also has the side effect of making her want to curl up against him until all of her anxieties are quieted, until her inner wolf thumping its tail restlessly against the floor finally relaxes and goes still. ]

And how can you be so calm? Is this even something you would've wanted? [ Snow hooks teeth into her lower lip, trying to figure out the best way to say this next part. ] ... A mate?

[bigbaddy]

[ Snow!! Please, talk about putting a guy on the spot.. The question by itself would have been difficult enough, but when it's coming right after her saying those things it feels like he's been punched in the face right after being kicked in the stomach. How is he supposed to say anything at all when she's saying that she feels like she's supposed to be here with him?

This is torture. It's got to be. If Bigby didn't know better, he'd imagine this was something this place was doing to him.

But Snow is acting too much like herself - even while she's confused about all of this - for him to believe it's just this place imitating her. It's still her.

Bigby is uncharacteristically quiet for a few moments after that question. He just.. truly doesn't know how to answer. He's never been in this position before, considering Snow is the only person he's ever thought of when he did think of having a mate. His gaze goes all over the place, just to avoid having to look directly at her right now. ]

I mean, it's..

[ What is it?

Sure, he knows what it is. But what he does he want to tell her? How much can he say? He can't just say sure, I've been wanting that with you ever since I first met you like some creep. Snow has had enough creeps in her life. ]

It's easy to be calm when it's you doing it, Snow. [ God, he's really hoping this is the right thing to say here. He's trying to tell the truth, while also not being too forward about it.

Let her interpret it however she wants it, especially when Bigby isn't fully sure yet of where her feelings lie. ]

You're the person I trust more than anyone, both here and back home. You know that, right?

[powersuited]

[ Snow can tell, right away, that she's putting him on the spot — maybe forcing him to have the kind of conversation that he wouldn't have ever planned on having, and with her in particular. She's not even sure if the topic of mates is taboo, at least within the wolf sphere of things, because all of this is so new to her that it still feels like she's fumbling her way through it.

But she doesn't seem to have offended him with the whole marking business — even if she still suspects he's being polite in an effort not to hurt her feelings — and the more he talks, the better she feels about it. She might end up looking for a way to unmark him, if such a thing is even possible, but at least she hasn't overstepped in a way that could prove irreparable for them, or impossible to get past.

Her shoulders slacken a bit more with relief and understanding when he says what he does, reemphasizes his trust in her. Yes, she wants to answer, yes, you get it, you know what I'm talking about when I say that this isn't actually the worst thing that could've happened to us. But she doesn't; instead, she reaches out, wordlessly at first, to take his hand in her own. ]

I do. And I trust you, too. That's why this is — why this feels... okay.

[ Maybe she wouldn't go so far as to assert them as mates, or act like she has any proprietary rights over him now that she's left her scent on him, but it could be that this will only help, in the long run. He's so protective of her that establishing this connection might even put him at ease, too — although that brings her to another thought, one she poses aloud to him without really thinking about it. ]

Do I — am I wearing your scent now, too?

[bigbaddy]

Probably not. Maybe a little. [ They were all over each other out there in the snow, after all, so it's pretty much impossible for him to not have left even the slightest bit of scent on her. But Bigby knows it's the sort of thing that will fade rather quickly, since he didn't go out of his way to mark her. Hell, if anything, he went out of his way to make sure he didn't even get close to doing that, since the last thing he wants is for Snow to have that sort of thing forced upon her.

.. even if she doesn't seem too bothered by the entire thing now she's got the explanation for it. Bigby wants to read more in that, but he tries to prevent himself from doing so. It feels like just setting himself up for disappointment.

Instead he thinks about her question a little more, and when he speaks up, he first glances down at the way she's holding his hand before moving his gaze back up to her face. ]

.. unless you want to?

[ H-Haha, that's a vague question, right. He can totally play it off if she's averse to the idea. Clearly he doesn't mean anything by that, it's fine!! ]

[powersuited]

[ Even though Snow does feel like her senses are stronger, her ability to process her surroundings more heightened, there's almost too much to focus on sometimes, not to mention the risk of something pulling her attention when she least expects it to — she also has the sensation of sinking too quickly in the overwhelm, and rather than allow herself to drown, she's reaching out to grab onto something that can steady her.

The question is fair, when it comes, but what she's less prepared for is the fact that she doesn't balk at the idea; just like the confirmation that he's wearing her scent now, she's not disturbed by the concept of offering him the same in exchange.

Yet she's a little tentative about it, almost giving him more of a sidelong glance, drawing a breath before she speaks out of a desire to not appear too forward. ]

Well... it would only be fair, wouldn't it? And maybe it would look less suspicious, if we... if it wasn't just one-sided.