Courtesy of the Letter "Y" (Ellwood)

[Ellwood]

The touch, both physical and magical, contacted his side - and his side expanded for the deep breath. He kept quiet and unmoving as the mystic tingle spread throughout his nerves, trailed through veins, purifying and healing - and the little to no change he felt only reinforced the idea that were blood had already done its work. 

A second wave of warmth burrowed in, and pleased nerves brought out another breath. He shifted slightly, as if he could get the heat to move over just a few more inches, one way or the other - as if there was an itch he was just missing. Then the healing hands moved elsewhere, more at his lower back, and physically kneaded in, firm but gentle. 

He tried to twist his head enough, to look back with curiosity as Toby kept magic and fingers going. It would have been a lie if he said it didn't feel good - it was the "love" part of the relationship with heat - but he wasn't expecting the other to maintain contact any longer than necessary. Instead, the older mage seemed intent on covering his whole back. 

Not that he was complaining ... but he sort of felt like he should be, or saying something, or still feeling angry at him. Anger should have been making him recoil, were it not already slacked by the apology. His face contorted and loosed an awkward, quiet growl.    

He managed a tentative "What..." at first, his body already telling him to stop talking before managing a more thorough, "What are you -"

"Massaging you," Toby cut to the explanation. "I think I added quite a bit to your blood pressure just now. Least I could do would be to take that away."

Clenched fists pushed forward in the center of his back, and his mouth opened fully to take a deep breath. Oxygen flooded happily through his veins and carried heat and other chemicals with it.  

"Tell me to stop... whenever..." Toby said. 

Muscles, largely untouched and overused, smacked the idea out of his brain even if he put on a tough show. 

"Or... just roll over onto your front... if you want me to keep going..."

The ribcage rumbled with a not-growl vocalization, and he tried to look again at the person behind him. Then his head moved, shaking the wild mane twice, before the hulking body slowly pivoted forward, and fell onto his front.

He grunted out, as bent arms rested to either side of his head. Out of the side of his mouth, the beast muttered, "You know something?"

"You're weird..."

[Toviyah]

He shifted suddenly, the dark tangle of longer fur on his head thrashing like a dog shaking itself dry. Toby froze, suddenly on the alert again, until the were tilted sideways, flopping down onto his front.

"You know something?"

Another lungful of healing mist moved to Toby's palms, then was brought to the center of Ellwood's back. "Probably not..."

"You're weird..."

"Oh." Toby hid his smile, even though it was safely beyond the other's line of sight. "Yes. I'm told that quite often..."

Knuckles met flesh again. He leaned in from the sabercat's side, putting more of his weight into the muscles under his hands as he began to walk them up the surface - one hand lifting, transferring all the weight to the other, until it came down again, slightly higher than before so the other hand could get a turn to move up.

He made his way back up - slowly, carefully, a new lungful of rejuvenating mist descending each time a hand touched down again. He worked up to the shoulders this time, and slid his hands over them - fingers curved, reaching in front, and started to squeeze while his thumbs pushed in from behind and ground at the flesh in small circles.

His attention removed back up. Fingers were pressed in, angled for nails to reach through the thick fur that began just below the mane.

He started to scratch.

Arched fingers moved back and forth, gradually progressing back down to scratch over the were's back. Halfway down, they moved out to the flanks, and kept scratching lower... strayed dangerously close to the hips, and lifted away.

"Doing fine so far?"

Scratching nails were replaced by rubbing palms, still bearing the orange light as they pressed down over his lower back.

They lifted, he breathed, and they came down again, barely an inch up from their previous position.

And they retreated again, and he breathed, and they returned, another inch higher...

[Ellwood]

"Oh," the older mage replied simply. "Yes. I'm told that quite often..."

A dark chuckle, the first in awhile, shook the large body. 

"Why doesn't that surprise me," Ellwood stated, lacking the interrogative tone that would have made it a question. Further communication was stoppered as knuckles made enough impression to evoke a low groan out of his chest. 

He pretended he didn't make that noise, and kept the rest silent to himself as Toby continued to task of "relieving his stress," accomplishing that and more. The were transformation had stretched himself out, baring more of his back for the massage - lengthening the task, causing Toby to spend more time on it then necessary. 

"Necessary" wasn't really the right word for it though. Somewhere in the back of a mind, still annoyed, he knew that Toby was going out of his way to soothe the savage beast. That whole idea of "He's a healer" began to click a little more. Even inserting an animalistic rumble here and there, the mage seemed intent on making him feel good. 

Gift horse, mouth. 

"Doing fine so far?" Toby asked in the process of what his nerves told him was a highly enjoyable back scratching. 

He rumbled for a moment, limbs shifting around a bit to get blood moving again while gentle pressure was applied to his lower back on up. 

"Fine," he muttered, voice pretending to still be annoyed and playing down the release of feel good chemicals in his brain. "Yeah. Doing fine. Whatever."

He took another slow deep breath, letting the oxygen tickle his brain before trying for wit.

"So is this part of your 'hobby,' too?" he teased, mischief overriding the tone of annoyance from before. "Getting your hands all over the big strong guys you 'rescued from evil'?"

The grin that spread inexorably across his features ruined his chance at further pretense. 

[Toviyah]

"Fine. Yeah. Doing fine. Whatever."

It almost sounded like outright approval. Good enough for me.

So he kept going.

Warm air was dragged in to fill the were's lungs, pushing Toby's hands and raising his eyebrows at least two inches up. He found wrought-iron biceps and gave them a good squeeze, then a second one boosted by healing mist, working his way back in to the shoulders as Ellwood let the held breath out.

"So is this part of your 'hobby,' too? Getting your hands all over the big strong guys you 'rescued from evil'?"

Even from the other side of the were's head, Toby could feel that grin, daring him to make a contradiction.

In the usual fashion, he found it impossible to resist the dare.

"Oh, not at all," he said, as he brought his knees up to the sabercat's mid-back, planting them on either side of the spine. "It's just the next stage of a long and far-reaching plot for world domination."

Keeping a firm grip on the were's shoulders, making sure his fingers stayed in motion to keep the tension safely wrung out, he began shifting his knees back and forth, making use of his comparatively lighter body weight to massage Ellwood's back.

"By this point, you're too drowsy to buck me off," he explained. "I'll just keep going a bit longer," knees trod backwards, providing space for his hands to return to the were's sides and work further down. "In a matter of minutes, you'll be so blissfully relaxed, staying awake will be the furthest thing from your mind. That's when I'll revert to my true form and... mark you as my territory."

He climbed off, returned to the were's side, and brought a hand down to ruffle the fur between his ears. "You'll be like a walking fire hydrant. Or tree. Whichever one you prefer. Other males and their packs will steer well clear of you. Or hunt me down and challenge me to a fight for territory-marking rights. I suppose demons won't be so eager to engage you in close combat, but that's beside the point."

He cocked his head and stared into the fireplace, considering. "And then when I've rolled all the other males back from Alexandria, I'll have all the bitches to myself, and... uh... I haven't thought that far ahead. I'm still working on that. But that isn't the point either. What's more important right now is you."

Ruffling became scratching, in the same spot between the saber's ears that he recalled most ferals identifying as a pleasure center. "Which one would you rather be?" He asked. "Tree, or fire hydrant?"

[Ellwood]

"Oh, not at all," Toby replied, moving in a way that left the surprised were turning his head more to see. He grunted his confusion before going back to passively receiving. "It's just the next stage of a long and far-reaching plot for world domination."

He grunted a laugh, body shifting for the expulsion of air, getting more vulnerable for probing knees that burrowed into the muscle of his thick back. A groan he'd deny to death escaped his mouth, before he cleared his throat and sought to reassert his masculinity with a bass grunt. 

"By this point, you're too drowsy to buck me off," Toby continued. 

Ellwood gave another, skeptical laugh. "Wanna bet?" went unsaid. 

"I'll just keep going a bit longer," Toby said, answering it with further pressure on the over-used muscles of an active life.  "In a matter of minutes, you'll be so blissfully relaxed, staying awake will be the furthest thing from your mind. That's when I'll revert to my true form and... mark you as my territory."

Another bass grunt laughed softly, and that his eyes were closed had nothing to do with anything. It certainly didn't make the older mage right or anything. 

Then a patronizing rub between the ears made him loose a dark, warning growl of an animal whose rest was being disturbed. 

"You'll be like a walking fire hydrant. Or tree. Whichever one you prefer."

"You're insane," Ellwood rumbled, shifting his head to look the other direction. "You're insane and you know it."

"Other males and their packs will steer well clear of you. Or hunt me down and challenge me to a fight for territory-marking rights. I suppose demons won't be so eager to engage you in close combat, but that's beside the point."

"And then when I've rolled all the other males back from Alexandria, I'll have all the bitches to myself, and... uh... I haven't thought that far ahead. I'm still working on that. But that isn't the point either. What's more important right now is you."

He simply humphed. 

"Which one would you rather be?" Toby asked, clarifying the question. "Tree, or fire hydrant?"

A turning, questioning face sought the old one's. Eyes, rapidly moving, expressed questions and thoughts that his mouth couldn't, or wouldn't say. It was only a few seconds of silence, but it was an uncomfortable eternity to itself as the prone were of a man struggled to wrap his head around the comparison. 

Unable to actually answer it, he grumbled and deflected. "You're still insane."

[Toviyah]

"Yes." Toby reached for the sabertooth's shoulders again. Flesh on either side was sandwiched between four fingers and the heel of a palm, pressure applied from front and back. "I'm definitely insane."

Intuition told him now would be a great time not to talk. For once, he listened. He kept his peace, and got back to work.

He alternated focus between shoulders, loosening the grip on one side while his other hand pressed in harder. He breathed out, diverting twin streams of healing light to wrap both the beast's shoulders. With no physical damage to heal, the only effect of the mist was a buzzing warmth as it coiled around the shoulders and spread out to the biceps. Thumbs and index fingers took to each shoulder next, concentrating the force of each squeeze into a single muscle and attacking the tension from a slightly different angle each time.

Gold light was spiraling around skin, all the way down to Ellwood's fingers, before Toby moved down, leaving the energy to sink into the flesh or dissipate on its own. Knuckles were placed against the younger man's back, parallel to the shoulder line, then gently pressed in.

He climbed on. Knees found their position on the lower back again, gravity sinking them into the muscle on either side of the spine, letting the lighter body keep its precarious balance while he worked his knuckles just inside of the big shoulder blades.

Shortly after he'd progressed lower, pressed his palms flat into the mid-back and begun breathing more healing magic into the area around them, he caught himself humming a tune. Old music, innocuous half-forgotten lyrics, delivered by a fairly accurate voice - any savagery appeared long since soothed out of the were's soul, but it couldn't hurt to make sure.

He climbed off at long last, feeling unusually tired, when the dark-furred back was awash with restoring light. He slumped down on the floor next to Ellwood, assuming the same position - body stretched out, hands folded under his chin to form a makeshift pillow.

"We might have got off on the wrong foot," he casually addressed the air directly ahead. "Maybe we should try this again..." He kept his voice soft and low, tailored it to avoid enraging the slumbering dragon. "What was someone like you... doing all the way out there by yourself... at that unholy hour of the night?"

[Ellwood]

"We might have got off on the wrong foot," insanity pointed out the obvious at the end of another long session with therapeutic pleasure, leaving the savage beast the most soothed he felt in a long, long time. Sure, it sounded like he was talking to someone else in the room... Someone else stayed quiet though. That happens sometimes, when someone else doesn't even exist.

The beast, for his part, gave a noncommittal grunt of ambivalence. Seargent Sarcasm was too content to make a witty comment about Captain Obvious and the Holmes Brigade.

"Maybe we should try this again..." the middle-aged mage said softly. One of the beast's eyes slowly parted to glance at the physically insignificant person laying away off to the side of him. It closed again with equal speed.

The bigger body huffed out through his nose. "No promises," he muttered back, shifting his head to face the opposite direction from the older mage.

"What was someone like you... doing all the way out there by yourself... at that unholy hour of the night?"

The were snorted, rolling his eyes to himself before closing them back up again.

"Told you already," he said, annoyance at being asked a question with so obvious an answer, again. Tingling of nerves and muscles well-cared for, for the first time in a long time, reminded him of old concepts like 'politeness' and 'courtesy,' and he growled down his own annoyance in the name of gratitude.

He vaguely remembered this was like how they began. God, he hoped the whole night wasn't going to be cyclical.

"People missing in the woods," he continued, growl still sweeping beneath it like an undertow, and he fought back that current of emotion anyway. "Survivor mentioned a monster. Sounded like a demon sighting. Made myself bait."

He remembered that science fiction movie with the over-the-top acting by a Squidfolk admiral. The name escaped him. The line didn't.

"It's a trap," he said through a dark rumble, somehow trying to sound light-hearted even if that muscle was weighed down by a few hundred pounds of something else. "I mean, it was. Was trying to lure it out. To kill it."

The large brown body took a deeper breath, expanding several inches and then compressing down as it was pushed back out. Air made his extremities tingle beneath the fur, and he contemplated shifting back to a body less threatening. Contentment once again made the choice for him, and he stayed exactly where he was, exactly like he was.

"Told you. Killing is what I'm built for."

A tinge of sadness snuck in there. He wasn't sure where it came from, but his deep chest grunted it away and he shifted his head a bit more on the pillow of his great forearms.

[Toviyah]

"Told you already." Frustration began to bubble... and went back to a simmer before Toby's body had time to grow tense. "People missing in the woods. Survivor mentioned a monster. Sounded like a demon sighting. Made myself bait..."

Anger still ran beneath the surface, even rose nearer with the recount of events past. It manifested in a low growl that trained ears caught easily, and he ached to drain it away with a magic tailored precisely for that task. So he didn't.

"It's a trap." A little flash of humor glimmered through, though it was shaded in much the same tone as the earlier words. "I mean, it was. Was trying to lure it out. To kill it."

A sigh. The sound made him want to shapeshift into a beagle and throw himself at the man's lap. It usually worked with children. It quite likely wouldn't work with someone already clinging to his dignity by the tips of his claws. "Told you. Killing is what I'm built for."

"Mmhmm..." Toby let some of the exhaustion seep into his voice. "You've probably tried modeling for beer calendars already..."

I'm harmless. I'm not in your way. I'll live things through your eyes, in a way cheating with magic can't substitute for. I won't judge you. Again. He kept those thoughts clear in his mind as he felt for the right words to say. It still felt like picking his way over eggshells. Or a sleeping pack of wounded smilodons.

"Was this... always what you did? Just killing demons?"

[Ellwood]

"Mmhmm..." the old one replied, and for once, started to sound more his age. "You've probably tried modeling for beer calendars already..."

His right ear twitched. His head rose up from his arms, looking skeptically with that same expression of growing annoyance. Then he recognized wit where it was, and gave a smirking one-syllable laugh. "Ha. No. No modeling gigs."

"Was this … always what you did?" Toby asked more tentatively. He could have sworn he heard tip-toeing. "Just killing demons?"

"Course not," he grunted out, mischief quick on the draw. "I also kill monsters and vampires. On wednesday, cultists. Especially the kid stealing, brain eating kind. You don't see those often, but when you do? Kill em quick, before they start flinging the fireballs. That's one lesson you learn really fast, let me tall ya."

The beast snorted out indignantly, almost like a horse would, before he rolled slowly over onto his back. He moved his hands to keep pillowing his head, threading fingers together behind him as he looked more toward the ceiling. Fireplace heat warmed up his front instead. His stomach rose and fell slowly with the new position, and eyes saw past the cabin roof toward other memories.

"Course not," he said again, but the words came out so different. The tone dipped in volume, lost mischief and picked up regret instead. The motion ticked off another, and anger rose at allowing himself to be depressed - even for a moment. "I used to defend people."

His brother stared him back in the face.

"Person," he amended almost silently, corner of his mouth twitching on the word. His chest rolled rocks down a steep hill. He couldn't tell why he pushed them this time, but they graveled their way down all the same.

[Toviyah]

"'Course not," the reply came, a little too quickly. "I also kill monsters and vampires. On wednesday, cultists. Especially the kid stealing, brain eating kind. You don't see those often, but when you do? Kill em quick, before they start flinging the fireballs. That's one lesson you learn really fast, let me tall ya."

"Touché." Toby allowed himself a gentle chuckle. Not the answer he'd been looking for, but it wasn't an explosion, at any rate...

"'Course not..." Ellwood said again, much quieter this time.

The older man very carefully didn't stir, or freeze, or otherwise react.

"I used to defend people."

He continued to breathe. In, out, deeply, slowly... calmly...

"Person."

He wouldn't have believed a body of that size could have produced a sound that small, that wistful, with that pang of emotion, if he hadn't seen it once before. Out of the corner of his left eye, he saw the were's mouth twitch at the corner.

The broad chest rumbled with distant thunder. He waited for the storm to pass. Kept waiting, and kept listening until the sound of the fire's dance over apple-scented logs reigned in his ears once more.

Counted down the seconds in his head. One last breath, in, out.

"Would they have been a tree, or a hydrant?"

[Ellwood]

"A tree," he softly said after only a blink of his eyes and three seconds time. The answer came more easier to him, when he was outside looking in. Branches swayed, a trunk pushed over in the wind, giving out fruit freely for anyone, providing shelter under its leaves.

Yet fragile. Helpless, if anyone was to start a fire. Giving, and taken advantage of.

He could see it full well in his mind's eye: Josiah, standing before the giving tree. His arms were open, even if his face was nervous and scared and he looked healthy enough a hard breath would knock him over. He knew he was probably biased, but there it was.

"He'd be a tree," Ellwood said again. A few more seconds later, he realized what he was talking about, and his face broke into a glare, growling at the old one out of the corner of his eye. "You're still insane."

[Toviyah]

Serious contemplation didn't take more than a moment before the answer came back, this time straight from the heart. "A tree."

The were paused. The deep silence, the stillness, the peace - it sounded like affection. Coming from a soul with so much ire for the rest of the world, the contrast made a saint of the figure.

"He'd be a tree..."

Then, in the space of a few more heartbeats, the moment was over. "You're still insane."

"Hmm?" Toby lifted his head to face Ellwood. "Oh. Yes." He rolled over onto his back, joining his companion in gazing up at the shadows that flickered across the ceiling. "I'm very insane."

"You don't sound angry when you talk about him," he observed. "He must have been a very nice tree... and a strong one, too? He must be, if you don't need to defend him now..."

He stopped. Left the line hanging, and waited for the other to pick it up and carry it along.

[Ellwood]

"Hmm? Oh. Yes," the old mage said, mimicking the beast in a new position on the floor. "I'm very insane."

The big body pumped out a quick exhale - not a snort, not a laugh - just a very fast breath and a shake of his head. 

"As long as you know it," he rumbled out with the voice of one tired and agreeing to disagree. 

"You don't sound angry when you talk about him," Toby said after a moment. 

The were blinked to himself slowly as he tried to take that in. His subconscious took the idea, and his consciousness toyed with it, searching back for memories to correlate between statement and fact.

"He must have been a very nice tree..." 

Ellwood grunted in agreement. "Yeah... He was."

"And a strong one, too? He must be, if you don't need to defend him now..."

The brown saberwere scoffed loudly. 

"Strong?" he repeated the word, sure that Toby was joking. "Ha. Had trouble with apple sauce jars, 'strong.' Has trouble climbing stairs, 'strong.' When he gets into a tug of war contest with a goblin, I say, 'What is this, a joke?'"

The were scoffed again at the thought, and saw his brother losing to the goblin easy. 

He saw his brother, losing, falling into the customary mudpit. He saw his skin going red, his eyes watering up, and the look of dejected helplessness at his lack of strength. 

A tumultuous heart churned again, angry and sad and resentful, a whirlpool growling in his chest. 

"He's not strong at all," he graveled out, dark and serious and grinding a steamroller over the bones of who knows what. "He's not, and he needs me, and I can't be what he needs. I'm broken."

He felt a window pane shatter somewhere, unreal. The confession bit and dug back into the same old wound where vengeful, monstrous instincts had put the people closest to him in danger. An old man turned dog turned man was too close for comfort again, and he rolled purposefully away from him before anger got any ideas. 

"There. You happy?" he bit the words at the ceiling, refusing to turn his gaze any closer to the old one.

He knew it sounded childish before the words were barely out of his mouth. Knowing that still didn't change the fact he said it. 

[Toviyah]

"Strong?" The word was fired back in an incredulous snort. "Ha. Had trouble with apple sauce jars, 'strong.' Has trouble climbing stairs, 'strong.' When he gets into a tug of war contest with a goblin, I say, 'What is this, a joke?'"

In the thoughtful silence that followed hot on the heels of sarcasm, Toby felt amusement die out, as swift and easy as a lit candle plunged into a midwinter lake.

"He's not strong at all," rage in flesh rumbled, turning this way and that for something to savage. "He's not, and he needs me, and I can't be what he needs. I'm broken." Fire kept searching, hungry, angry, and settled its gaze on him for a moment.

He held his breath. Held his movement. Held it. Held...

Ellwood rolled away, putting the two men further than lunging distance apart. "There. You happy?"

No, he wasn't.

What pieces of the puzzle had been said, what had been left unspoken; all slid neatly into place. Looking at the completed picture - the completed, torn, almost completely torn photograph - he wasn't happy.

Which said nothing of the man in monster's clothing himself, so quickly brought back to boiling over with a multitude of painful emotions that only escaped as anger.

Silence didn't sound like the right answer this time.

Another massage wasn't going to be half as effective this time around.

He waited, in the smoldering quiet, watching the lines of the saber's body and counting down the seconds.

His next exhale was audible, pushing out shared pain as he shut his eyes to the firelight and the danger just a few feet away.

"No. I'm not."

[Ellwood]

Ellwood snorted, like that was a real answer, trying to hold still and just stew on the cocktail of anger still brewing in a beastly heart too much for a human mind to hold back.

He let it swirl, let it spin him around inside and make blood rage on fire, till his eyes were spinning and he had to scrunch them shut himself. Deep breaths huffed out repeatedly, the brown furred mass of flesh expanding, then squeezing air back out. Details passed back and forth, goals and desires and memories of happy days, of purpose-filled days, and his brother - especially his brother.

"I need to get stronger," he growled almost silently after a moment, to no one in particular.

It might have been meant for himself. Maybe he needed to hear it again, to remind himself in the fire-lit warmth of the cabin. Comfort bred complacency, and that was the one thing he could not possibly allow.

"I'm not…"

It might have been meant for the old one. Of course the old one had said it himself: if only he was a little stronger, if his soul could overwhelm the curse of the beast and conquer it, make it his own - that's what he needed to do. That was the only way he could go back, and be safe.

"People aren't safe around me," he muttered, holding still for as long as he could, just to see how long he could. Then he exhaled, and a spark of indignation shot up his spine. "And why am I even telling you this?"

The beast turned his upper body over, looking angrily suspicious at the old one.

"Did you do something to me?" his accusation went, thinking to the healing magic and the meat and the fire and the massage and so many opportunities to do something or slip something in somewhere when he wasn't paying attention enough.

[Toviyah]

"Not in the way you're thinking." Toby rolled over in turn, bringing his own gaze, gentle but unwavering, to match the suddenly hostile glare. "No drugs, no magic pointed at your mind. But no judgment this time. Still no judgment. That might have done something... and I'm not about to say the massage didn't help..."

"Let's go over everything, just to make sure." He brought up a hand to absently count off the list on his fingers. "Worked a painful and unpleasant rush job to grow your kidney back. Called you a child in front of a demon. Wouldn't let you go after them when they had their backs to us. Brought you here and fed you. Said things to imply you were too weak to have stomped that demon flat on a better day. Openly preached at you, until you snapped. Massaged you while pleading insanity. Started prying again, except without assuming everything this time..."

"Looks like I've been sending mixed signals all night." He lowered his hands. "Did I do something to you? I mean, to make you open up to me?" He snorted. "Shouldn't you have crushed my head like a grape roughly thirty minutes ago?"

"Or did that already happen, and I just missed it?" He felt out the shape of his own head. "Still corporeal. Still more or less round. Not leaking juice everywhere." He pushed himself upright for a moment, inspected the floor beneath him, and slumped back down. "I don't know... what do you think?"

[Ellwood]

The beast growled, intermittently, following along with mixed messages - evoking mixed feelings, in a heart and mind already twisted up with its own discord. Bear baiting had been illegal for a long time already. The old mage must have been a part of that generation in bygone years, and found a more enjoyable target in the form of a were.

Were baiting: its what all the crazy people do these days.

"Could have," he said fast. The image came to mind, gory and disgusting. He could crush rocks with his uncovered hands in this form, to make dust of something upon which human bodies shattered.

"Should have," was debatable, but he said that anyway, because it fit the phrase. He didn't need the sermon or the condescension, or the lemon-covered dagger picking at all the more sensitive paper-cut memories.

"Might have," was definitely not a part of the phrase, and just a personal confession. Bear baiting tends to make the bear violent after all - and by bear, one of course means a seven-and-a-half-foot tall smilodon were-beast weighing in close to a ton of iron muscle and steel bones.

Were baiting: they make you sign a waiver just to watch.

The were growled a bit more, shook his head, then rolled back over onto his front. Hands tucked underneath him just to either side, and he quickly shifted into doing push-ups right on the spot. His head - the aggressive, self-assured part of his head - decided to cut the legs out of this conversation before it gave any more opportunities for confusion or emotion or anything else he couldn't rip apart to death with his bare fingers.

"Come on," he rumbled, almost ordering, brimming hostility taking charge as his body rapidly rose and fell to some unheard beat. "I need to kill something. Or eat something. Or fight something. Or break something. Something *ucking manly already."

[Toviyah]

"Something manly?" Toby stayed right where he was - on his back, eyes closed - but let a grin sprout and gradually spread over his face. "You mean lying on the rug and talking about your feelings in uncharacteristically soft voices while I touched you all over wasn't manly? I was going to braid your mane next. And dye it yellow. And teach you how to toss it fabulously. Or do we need to strike that from the agenda too?"

That got him another dark growl. "It's not too late for me to kill you, you know. Grape head."

"Fine, have it your way," he faux-grumbled cheerfully. "Maybe you're just not ready for the big manly leagues yet. We could always head back out to the forest." He sat up and turned to watch the other man's body pump up and down. "There's a creek that's perfect for swimming in. Or mud-wrestling. I'll even let you win, thump your chest, howl in triumph."

"Just don't scare the guards more than you already have." He stood, stretched, yawned loudly as fresh blood started to flow unhindered through his legs. "It gets... difficult... having to explain why they keep finding me pinned down by large and unkempt men." Cracking his knuckles, Toby stepped around the sabertooth to reach the fireplace and prodded the logs around, shifting ash onto the flames.

"You'll have to excuse the lack of adult magazines and beer, though. I can't have those around. They're bad for children. There's a convenience store that opens in a few hours, which takes care of that problem. Rejoice. You won't need to go without the customary trashy magazine reading while swilling beer and crushing the empty can against your forehead while I braid your mane."

The last of the flames went out, reduced to embers. "We're still doing that, aren't we? The Ancient Caledonian warriors braided their hair and painted themselves blue and charged into battle naked and half-drunk in a blood frenzy. So that's still manly." He reached for the keys on the mantelpiece. "Or we could just go to the nearest open window and practice howling at the moon. I'll even teach you how to scratch behind your ears with your feet. Your choice."

[Ellwood]

The brown beast of a body pumped up and down, mechanical muscles pistoning his weight through the cycle at a rapid clip. Ears twitched for each bad joke, chipping away at restraint barely kept in place over a monster as dark as he looked. Chains - mental or otherwise - can only be so successful at holding down a beast exposed to such relentless baiting.

"You'll have to excuse the lack of adult magazines and beer, though," the old one continued to tempt fate.

"No excuses," Ellwood grunted out, unable to tell whether he was joking himself or not as a bit of heat started building up in his arms and chest, a sign of the friction in the machine and the need for the oiling of his body.

"I can't have those around. They're bad for children," he insisted.

"I'm bad for children," the were stopped only a moment to look up and glare at him past two dagger-like fangs, before he went right back to putting a chunk of his bodyweight on his arms. The heat kept slowly building, and the hint of a subtle chemical taste started licking at the back of his mind. "*uck, you're probably bad for children."

"There's a convenience store that opens in a few hours, which takes care of that problem," he answered then, to Ellwood's victorious huff of breath. "Rejoice. You won't need to go without the customary trashy magazine reading while swilling beer and crushing the empty can against your forehead while I braid your mane."

An ear twitched angrily again, and he glared again - a monster's malice in predatory eyes.

"We're still doing that, aren't we?" the insane pled ignorant.

"*uck. ing hell. to. the. no. you grape head." the were in the room growled each word, before he rolled over onto his front, switching right into a different exercise. Hands locked behind his head, the better not to crush anyone with, and muscles brought his upper body and his bent legs up off of the floor, crunching inwards and upwards, at the same clip as before.

"The Ancient Caledonian warriors braided their hair and painted themselves blue and charged into battle naked and half-drunk in a blood frenzy. So that's still manly," he tried to convince him of his point.

Ellwood held his body at the base of a crunch, hands still behind his hand but feet on the ground. His stomach growled for a reason not in hunger, "Do I look naked, drunk and Caledonian?"

For some reason, the image of a red badgerfolk popped into his head, but he ignored it to go back into physically pumping his body full of work-out juices - the better to distract himself from the walking dead, or the fact that being naked, drunk and Caledonian sounded like fun.

Caledonians - they get monsters in their everywhere, and have the best concept of a good time around.

"Or we could just go to the nearest open window and practice howling at the moon. I'll even teach you how to scratch behind your ears with your feet," the mage who would be dog suggested. "Your choice."

It's so sad what happened to that old fellow. the nobly dressed Greenwich woman in his imagination asked while sipping from her tea cup.

What happened? that fellow in the monocle and top hat asked while dipping his 'biscuits' and tending the fireplace.

Apparently, he kept provoking this ever-so-patient young weresaber until he snapped. Blood chunks everywhere!

Good heavens, no!

Bits of his skull apparently lodged themselves in the wall and ceiling.

He went squish?

He went squish.

Mmm.

Yes.

Quite.

More tea?

Yes please.

"You're insane," the were complained while leaning over the precipice of patience, sounding like one good wind would knock him over into a free-fall "You're insane and I'm going to kill you. Kill you till you die from it."

[Toviyah]

"You're insane. You're insane and I'm going to kill you. Kill you till you die from it."

And didn't that sound familiar?

"That's been a popular opinion lately..." he told the solid wooden door. Halfway to the knob, his hand stopped in mid-air; he paused, letting his thoughts get the better of him.

Five years ago, and it still itched. Wanting to find out. Not wanting to find out. Fearing the worst. Hoping... not for the best, but for something. Something nebulous, for the sake of someone far out of reach. Thinking about it at all...

He shook himself like a wet beagle, scattering memories too close for comfort, and glanced back at the were, acting like he hadn't just impersonated a statue. "Now, I believe we were planning to go mud-wrestling. You'll need to look like a human if we're heading past the town guards again..."

[Ellwood]

"That's been a popular opinion lately," the old mage said to the door, while a still growling were-beast slowly got up from the ground, blood pumping with adrenalin, muscles geared up for doing something exciting, virile, and maybe even a bit reckless. Something. Anything. Skin warm and alive and aware beneath thick fur tingled for action and contact and made him even more eager to be roughly physical.

At full height, he stretched his limbs up high, only avoiding contact with the ceiling because of the sheer tallness of the angled cabin roof, and then let his arms fall back down. He strained his musculature on purpose, flexing through the motion as he brought them in front of him, crossed over his abdomen, and then he rolled his shoulders back, too.

He grunted once as he noticed the standing statue of the mage, who shook himself back to reality. Curiosity wondered what was going on inside the old man's head for a moment - but just a moment, because his imagination thought it was more interesting to wonder if he could find a bear to practice his choke holds on.

"Now, I believe we were planning to go mud-wrestling," the middle-aged crazy person spoke up, forcing his imagination to do a 180 and supplant Toby in the choke hold instead.

"You'll need to look like a human if we're heading past the town guards again..."

The saber looked at the old mage again, replayed the last hour, and with a small, slowly-growing, squirrel-eating grin, decided that such an image wasn't so hideous to the imagination as he first thought.

"Fine. Whatever," the beast complained angrily, and swung his arms in front of him, in and out, stretching his massive shoulders a final time before he bent his knees and clenched his hands into fists. His jaw clenched tight, lips curled slightly in a rolling growl, and his eyes closed down as he reached inside himself for the hard-to-pull lever that only half separated humanity from savagery.

He changed, for the second time that night, into the powerfully built young wild man who couldn't even bother trying to hide the fact he wasn't fully human. He was, however, willing to cover his upper body once more with the vest, slipping it on and snapping the buttons up. His skin, now exposed from thick fur made body hair, felt no less eager to get rough with something.

"Not gonna need my swords when I'm kicking your ass, am I?" the beast-in-man asked with a self-confident roll out from his chest.

[Toviyah]

"Your swords? What swords?"

The swords in question hung by the door, gleaming where the harness didn't conceal the keen metal blades.

"Oh," Toby acknowledged with a blithe grin as he turned back to Ellwood. "Those swords. No, you won't need them."

"I mean, really?" He began cracking his knuckles again, one by one. "What sort of threat could I pose to a big, strong man-beast like yourself," he finished cracking all ten knuckles, clenched his fists and rotated his wrists a few times, producing another set of wet crackling sounds. "That you'd need more absurdly sharp pieces of metal than you have arms to wave them around, just to keep pace with me?"

Toby placed his hands on his hips, tilted his head back and slowly arched his body forward, and his spine gave out more of the same ungodly chorus. "You're the best judge of that, of course." He straightened out and cocked his head, studying the swords again. "Are you sure you can move faster and grapple harder than a creaky, prematurely greying codger in his middle ages and who may or may not be more than a little touched in the head?" He bunched his shoulders and rolled them back, wringing more sound out of them.

He opened the door with a final glance at the blades, and the cold wind that swept in just about drowned out the chill running up his spine.

* * * * * * * * * *

His joints had all reset themselves by the time he felt his boots begin sinking into the mud where solid earth blurred into the running stream. It was an opportunity he didn't waste. Stepping deeper into the boundary lines where recent storms and a steady-flowing creek had produced an abundance of soft loam, he lifted his hands and bent his fingers backward, one by one, to crack his knuckles again.

"Here we are," he announced. "Make yourself comfortable, and don't worry about the mud. It'll wash off later."

He crouched low to scoop some up in both hands, then let it slide off in thick clumps to leave his fingers a shade darker. Nodded in approval. "Perfect for doing manly things in." Retrieving a fallen twig, he turned to the were, staying in his crouch as he began doodling in the mud. "How should we do this, then? Best three out of five? Eight out of fifteen? Should we try to knock each other out, or would you like to grope me in a compromising position until I stop squirming?"