Garrett Edgewalker (edgewalker) wrote in thebattleage, @ 2014-07-30 22:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! incomplete, (thread), garrett edgewalker, kallian endris |
Of Wolves And Wardrobes
Who: Garrett, Kallian
When: Matrinalis
Where: Vigil's Keep
Summary: So some other male is sniffing around Garrett's packsister, eh?
Rating: PG
Garrett was, as so-called apostates went, rather an odd case.
He kept no permanent residence as the other companions and his erstwhile packmates considered residence; no permanent den, no place of his own. He had a room in the Keep, with his name on the door and a key and everything, but Garrett was never in it. The room was, let's be entirely honest, a place to keep pants and the occasional shirt, which he scarcely wore anyway, and would parade around either partially or entirely in the buff on days when such behavior was feasible - laundry day, for example, or the times when the Templars were in the yard, practicing at the sword.
If there was anything the streak of malice in Garrett's soul loved, it was making men of their so-called holy god startle and swear and avert their eyes. One had even made some sort of warding symbol in his direction, as if the bits he was endowed with at birth were, by themselves, some sort of evil monster.
There was, however, one place he considered a second home, and as such, mostly kept his pants on while in it: Kallian's shack. It was always cool and quiet, a pool of calm that smelled of medicines and herbs and, most importantly, of its caretaker, the little healer whom Garrett called sister. She was such a little thing, was Kalli - the Templars frightened her, and even in the sanctuary of her little shack, she felt afraid of times, peeking through window slats and locking the door against the stomp and tromp of men in armor. It was easy to find true hostility in his heart for such men, who made his sister tremble and hide in back rooms. So Garrett dwelled in her house, and laid his great shaggy form across her threshold or at the foot of her bed, and she was not afraid when he was there to protect her. It felt good, to make her fears vanish, and to feel needed in turn.
Today, oh happy day, was one in which Kalli had little work to fulfill and Garrett even less. He returned to her little haven in his true form, a coney dangling by the neck from his teeth; though the Wardens gave their companions room and board, the fare on offer was hardly flavorful or hearty, not when one had four sturdy paws and jaws that could crush a true-man's fist in the gauntlet that he wore. So, a rabbit for his packsister - she would stew it, and make use of the fur and the bones and organs in her poultices, and no part of the kill would go to waste.
Kallian was respectful of the law of the pack, without it ever being explained to her. Garrett thought his sister was a fine young bitch, and once she discovered her teeth, would make an even finer mate to some lucky male someday. (Assuming, of course, said male could get past her packbrother.)
Unfortunately, as Garrett soon discovered, that day was approaching faster than ever expected. Once inside the boundaries of her home, he changed to his two legged form, laid the coney on her worktable in a bowl, that the blood might be collected, and went searching for a spare pair of pants. "Kalli?" he called out, to let her know he was back, if she was home.
It was in the act of hopping into his trouser leg that he saw The Dress.
Scarlet, floor length, swishy of hem and daring of cut. Garrett stared at it for long moments, then picked it up from where it hung and held it out, examining it at every angle. "What in the Lady's name ...?" he mumbled, trying to divine its function. Court ladies were exceedingly rare at Luka's bannorn, and the pack bitches had never favored swishy dresses; the garment was entirely alien to the wolfmage, who studied it with blank yellow eyes, uncomprehending.