To keep the Wolf from the Door...

[armbiter]

There is a predator in your plaza, Nexus. Granted, that's hardly unusual. There are predatory entities of all kinds here, and by and large they've learned to play nice, but this one is very New, and there is something about him that looks exceptionally dangerous.

A massive wolf, he is easily the size of a Midgardian three-bedroom house. His fur is oily black, with highlights of blood and frost that seem to be a part of him. He smells of ashes and death, and the green of his eyes is far too bright, feverish. It's not just that he looks like a dangerous animal, though. His body language, for anyone that knows canines, is tense, fearful, like a cornered stray ready to snap.

Look, he's had a rough day.

The antiviolence field is working overtime on this one, because not only is it protecting the people around him from a sudden lunge, it's keeping anyone from bumping into him accidentally, as if in recognition of his hair-trigger mental state. Even leaves blowing towards him swerve away as if pushed aside.

You know, 'dog' spelled backwards is 'god'.

"What do you do with a broken chain?" Is his question. Yes, he speaks, and his voice rumbles, almost making the ground shiver beneath his paws. "Can you eat it?"

((ooc: Just coldsong's player here messing around with an MCU iteration of Fenrir, don't ask me where I'm going with this, I'm just going. Please do not pet the doggo, he bites.))

Comments

[armbiter]

She is patient, this Hela. There is anger in her still. He can taste it on his tongue. But it's the slow, cool ferocity of a goddess who knows she has all the time in the world to wait for what belongs to her. In his agitated state, it's strangely comforting. Yes, the universe has taken from him, but he is still here. There is still good hunting.

"I would like," he agrees with a gusty sigh. Wolf breath is never minty fresh, but his smells like clean bones now, not old blood. "Let us walk, beloved old friend."

[quietus_est]

All things come to her in the end, even the gods. While patience would never sit entirely easy with her, she could all the same now. Frigga's influence no doubt. They didn't always see eye to eye, but at this point in her life, Hela had come to see the value in the other woman's wisdom.

And whatever else she felt in the moment, there was comfort to be sure in being referred to as such by Fenrir. She was not his mistress to be sure, and would not try to be, but friends she could do. She nodded her agreement, giving the side of his neck an affectionate pat before drawing back to turn, trusting that he'd fall in at her side as they went.

"It is an odd place to be sure, but never dull. I'll be sure to show you the Wilds- there's good hunting to be had there." And even better hunting in worlds beyond, with more dangerous prey that locals would thank them for culling, but that was for later visits, when Fenrir was feeling on a more even keel.