Sunday, April 8, 2012
Who: Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf (AKA Elisabetta and Eric/Fenrir) When: Sunday afternoon Where: outside her building What: Elisabetta meets a much bigger dog while walking her little one.
Elisabetta really had wanted a dog, but she wasn’t so good with the whole responsibility part of it. She never took poor little Fisher out for walks unless he was in a cute purse with a matching sweater. He was Ericmore of an accessory. The French bulldog mostly lived with her nanny, who was equally irresponsible. Oftentimes, it was left up to the other staff members who were in and out of the penthouse on a daily basis to tend to the dog’s needs. But not today. It was Easter, and none of those idiots apparently worked on Easter. Her nanny included. So Elisa was home alone with Fisher, and he was whining for a walk.
“Fine,” she said, caving. Ugh, that bitch online was getting her way. Elisa was going to have to walk outside and over to the park. LAME! But she’d do it in style. No gaudy shoes. Leopard print peep toes and a black mini dress. She made sure Fisher’s sweater matched her shoes. He looked ADORABLE! Yes, he was a lovely accessory.
Heading down in the elevator, the little dog whimpered some more. He must have REALLY needed to pee! He dragged her, small as he was, right out the door as the man there held it for them. Immediately, Fisher raised a leg on the nearest tree, not even willing to let Elisabetta cross over to the park. “You’re so impatient!”
---
Eric wasn’t sure what to make of the city, even though he’d already been there for a few days at this point. It was a lot to take in. And while Eric didn’t think this was the place to be - all these people, all the sounds and smells - the beast grumbling around within him needed to be here. There was something calling them both and Fenrir was not sure how else to go about it. They had kept from destroying anyone or anything during the time they’d been here but both missed the shelter of the forests where he’d chosen to stay most of his time before now.
He didn’t celebrate Easter, though he understood the holiday fairly well. He’d never felt the pull of Christianity, even though his parents were both devout and had often taken him with them on Sundays. They were stereotypically American in so many ways. As had he been before the wolf had come to him. Before the nights half-remembered and the world that had turned upside down and led him to this. Monster and man. And now he was here and well, New York was a place that was not friendly to him, not really.
He was out walking today, taking in more of the sights and the sounds. And, most importantly, the smells. He was hunting for something, even if he didn’t know what. He knew it was here and knew that he could find it if he just kept looking. With the black sweater and jeans, he didn’t look much different from any other New Yorker, though the occasional pauses might have seemed odd to anyone who didn’t realize that he was sniffing his way through the city, relying on that memory to guide him back along familiar routes.
The little dog in the horrid little vest chose the wrong moment to cross his path on the way to that tree. And the man, nearly tripping over it, lifted his own lip in slight frown and let out a soundless growl.
---
Fisher suddenly whimpered and backed up, the rest of his bladder emptying on the sidewalk in a puddle beneath him. He was trembling and using Elisabetta as a shield. Her legs had gotten tangled in the leash as a result, and she nearly fell over. “Fisher? What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked, trying to untangle herself while the dog pulled even harder at the leash in his effort to get away from the man in front of Elisabetta.
“Damn dog.. seriously!” She managed to glance up as she said it though, and noticed a very handsome, brooding sort of man. Oooh, yum.
“Oh.. hey.. uh.. sorry.” She’d been spouting curses and looking less than elegant in her battle with the leash and the dog tied to it. “I’m not usually the one who walks him.”
---
Fenrir was satisfied with the little dog’s display of submission and fear in his presence. Most animals could sense what he was beneath the human veneer, as once he’d awakened he wasn’t entirely sure that he was human anymore. Good for him, as Fenrir didn’t want to be human. He wasn’t really sure what he was - but they would figure it out or not. Brooding was exactly the right word for him, especially with the way he was watching the little dog scramble to try to escape his sight and his presence.
“Right.” It was a monosyllabic response to that, which was probably most of what she was going to get. At least at first. Fenrir looked her over, pegging her for wealthy and someone who paid for the dog without knowing how to handle it. It was clear that she didn’t have much control over the animal anyway. And the fact that she didn’t walk it? He wondered who did. “He’s yours?”
Because the dog really didn’t look it. Or act like it. Fenrir tucked his hands into his pockets and considered stepping around her and headingonhis way. But he wasn’t moving just yet. The wolf smelled something about her that was odd and had paused to investigate.
---
Elisabetta glance down at the dog again, not sure what the hell was wrong with Fisher. He was usually really friendly and excited to meet people, but he was scared of something. It didn’t even occur to her that he was scared of the man in front of her.
As for leaving, she wasn’t going anywhere just yet, because her legs were still tangled in the leash. “He’s mine, yes. But I don’t usually walk him. My nanny does.” Or the housekeepers. Sometimes she even talked the doorman into coming up to get the dog. Money could buy just about anything.
“It’s Easter, so.. everyone is off today. Well, ‘cept for daddy. He works all the time.” She paused and then stretched out her right hand after switching the leash to her left. “Elisabetta.”
---
“The nanny?” This girl had a nanny. Neither Eric nor Fenrir had heard of such a thing happening outside of people who were fictional or entirely too wealthy for their own good. He looked at her more closely, eyes the shade of dark chocolate looking her over with just a hint more intensity than they should have. “Aren’t you a little old for that?”
Every inch of him was a predator, human form or not. Fenrir saw no reason to hide this, as he was proud of himself and his fierceness. The human part was far more cautious about showing their strength. It made for an interesting experience when dealing with him for extended periods of time.
“You should train him.” And then Fenrir snapped his fingers authoritatively, dropping his gaze so that he was looking the dog right in the eye. Part of his abilities came with an innate sense on how to deal with wolves - but all other canines were similar enough, he had found.
---
“I’m eighteen. And she hasn’t looked out for me in a long time. Just makes daddy feel like he’s actually doing something for my benefit.” The distaste in her voice made it clear she was very bitter about her father’s lack of involvement in her life and the fact that he assigned a useless woman to care for her.
She looked down at the dog when the man got all interested in the animal, rather than taking her hand or bothering to introduce himself. She was put off by this, but then she was interested to see how quickly Fisher responded. The little dog, while still appearing nervous, came out from behind her and rolled on his back, exposing his belly to the man. It was an act of submission. “Are you like.. a dog whisperer or something?”
---
“Then you are too old to need someone to remind you to be an adult.” Blunt and to the point, Fenrir did not mince words, especially not with girls who seemed to be more spoiled than they deserved. “Your father gave you someone to look after you. That’s more than some.” Also blunt - but maybe fathers were not the best topic of conversation to have with Fenrir. Especially not when he was still bitter about his own family. Or families. One had been taken from him and the other had betrayed him. It made her own daddy issues a little less sympathetic in his mind.
“No.” He shook his head and then squatted to the little dog, extending his hand which Fisher quickly licked in the same submissive gesture. Had he been in wolf form, the dog would have licked his chin or his muzzle - trying to prove his position. Dogs were not the same as wolves. And even wolves in captivity were not the same as those in the wild. Hierarchies were established in captivity. In the wild? They were very different creatures.
“I’m Eric.” The name was both his and not his but it was the correct one to give in the situation. “If he is yours, you should be sure that he knows it.” As the little dog didn’t appear to do so.Dark brown eyes met her face once again, watching for something that would give him some idea of the origin of her scent. It was something new to him and unfamiliar. The wolf didn’t have words for it - but he knew there was something about her, fluffy little thing or not.
---
Elisa bristled at his criticism of her. She looked really hot today. Was he gay or something? No, because gay men loved her too! He would have noticed her shoes at least! But here he was paying more attention to the damn dog than he was to her. And criticising her when he didn’t even know her. It got under her skin.
“He’s just a dumb dog. He spends most of the day licking his own ass. Why should I care if he knows he belongs to me?” She gave the leash a little tug to try and pull Fisher away. She was totally over this Eric dude. Took him long enough to introduce himself.
But Fisher whined, wanting to stay in place. He now saw Eric as his superior, and he wanted to please the alpha.
---
And that made Fenrir bristle. A dumb dog? The mocking in her voice struck a chord with him that had not been buried long enough to have dissipated without these feelings rising. The human half understood how many people treated their animals as this but didn’t like it anymore than Fenrir did. Just didn’t violently react to it the same way. He gave the little dog a pat on the head and then fingered the leash that Elisa was holding when she tugged it, following the length of it up to her hand as his frown grew.
He rose to his feet, all six feet and two inches of him. There was no mistaking those broad shoulders as anything but muscle and, at the moment, displeasure with her words. There was no other option than for him to loom over her, though he kept his hands loose at his sides and did not rip both leash and hand off her wrist.
“Is that how you see a creature placed within your care?” There was an accusation in his voice that had very little to do with just this situation but so much more. “That depends on you?” His voice was low and rough, as if he didn’t use it much. In truth, he didn’t. Fenrir enjoyed spending time on his own without the company of other human beings. His own company suited him well enough, especially when people like this existed. “As nothing but a toy to match your clothing for the day?”
---
Fisher had cowered, because he was smart, a lot smarter than Elisabetta gave him credit. But when Eric stood tall, his whole nature screaming ‘fear me,’ Elisa did not back down. She was used to getting her way. She always did. Money talked, and she had a lot of it, so people listened to her. In this city, it was the official language. Clearly, Eric didn’t speak it.
“He doesn’t depend on me. I’m not the one who feeds him, and I usually don’t walk him. I told you.. my nanny has the day off. He had to pee, so I brought him out.” She was annoyed by Eric getting all up in her face. So much so, that she stuck a finger in his chest. “Don’t get all high and mighty on me, mister. You don’t know me.”
---
Fenrir didn’t care about money. He didn’t care how much she had or what she did with it. If anything, he saw that as just another trapping of the foolishness of mortals. If it were up to him,he might have disappeared into the wilderness and never returned - because he could. His mortal was more inclined to have common sense and that was why they had money. It was Eric that had gotten them to New York, after all. Now that he was there, he had to find what he was searching for and then go home.
Where ever that was.
“Then you don’t deserve to keep him.” It was said so plainly that there was no other option about it. Elisa was spoiled. She did not deserve to have anything that required care or attention.
When she touched him, he actually growled at her. The sound was not something that could have come from a human throat, no matter how angry one was. It was far more feral and just a little bit frightening. But he did not pounce on her and he did not attack, though his self-control was fraying with each jab of her manicured fingers against his chest. His curled his hands into fists and glared, brown eyes shifting to an amber color for a moment as the wolf rose.
“Don’t. Touch. Me. Again.”
---
The growl was what finally got her. She visibly shrunk, her eyes widening, head leaning back. It was soon followed by her body. And then there was a sharp pain behind her eyes. The throbbing moved to her temples and then the base of her skull. She put her palm to her forehead as she winced.
There was a large, fearsome animal. Fangs. Dirty, matted fur. It had blood on it. There was blood at the mouth as well. The animal seemed feral. And it was massive. Canine, yes, but like none she’d ever seen. It was all inside her head, because her eyes were closed from the pain of the hallucination. She could see it though. And then the vision focused sharply on the beast’s eyes. It caused her own to open and she stumbled back. Elisa’s hand moved from her head to her mouth, her eyes so wide they looked like they might pop out of their sockets. The animal had Eric’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.. please.. don’t hurt me.”
---
He was not completely satisfied with her shift in behavior, though the wolf liked the fact that she was fearful. It was more respect for both him and his station. He was the great wolf of the north. The warg of prophecy. She was some little girl who took advantage of the things given to her. Of the living creatures that she had brought into her own.
When she stumbled back, he caught the leash from her hand before she could choke the little dog at the end of it. The dog himself was a joke but Fenrir understood him far more than he did the woman holding his leash and talking about how he didn’t matter. This was how mortals treated loyalty. Just like the Aesir had. It sickened him. “This is not your plaything, Elisabetta.” Her said her name like a curse, growling it out.
He had no idea what her vision had been but the scent flared up again and he took it in, scowling at her and watching her even more closely. “You have a responsibility to him - or you don’t deserve him.” And then he just looked disgusted. “You don’t deserve anything you have.”
The wolf in him wanted to chase her when she stumbled back. LIke prey, she was retreating and the urge was very, very strong. But he was not just wolf - there was more than enough intelligence in his gaze to keep him in this form for now.
---
Elisabetta was still startled by her vision. No, not startled, terrified! His eyes. His eyes were exactly like the beast in her vision. The monster was like something out of a horror movie only so much more realistic. She’d never seen anything like it. And given how many of her visions seemed to be coming true lately, and the suggestions from her friends that perhaps they weren’t hallucinations but rather psychic peeks into the future, she was really fucking scared of this one coming true. She whispered the word, “Wolf,” ever so softly, as if afraid saying it would bring the creature forth.
Elisa didn’t realize it, but she was shaking, and her legs felt weak. One of her heels slipped to the side, and she stumbled forward. Being closer to him made her scream, and she suddenly decided running was the best idea. She didn’t give a shit about that little dog. She needed to get away from Eric or the wolf or whatever!