âBerries are more honest than mushrooms. They tell you if they desire you to suffer or not.â
WHAT: Atreus & Gretel have a forest run-in and chat! WHERE: Near the Wildlife Sanctuary WHEN: June 1st or so WARNINGS: None, really STATUS:Complete!
Gretel was hungry.
It was not the first time the world had turned her out with nothing but her hide and the clothes on her back. She suspected she was still young enough that it might not be the last.
Gretel was more cautious this time, wiser. She knew better than to accept the kindness of strangers, for often they were more strange than kind. The witch had not been all bad, and perhaps if they could have come to an accord over her brother, things might have ended up differently.
Then again, she did lure and eat children, so perhaps not.
Gretel had supped at the witchâs table. Perhaps she was as damned as her magic-blackened fingers. They marked her. Told on her. The towns or the inns, no matter what the messages on her phone had conveyed, did not feel quite safe enough to venture into them.
Idly, Gretel followed a path. Not because she knew where she went. The paths, she was told, changed anyway. She walked them for something to do. To think about her boots on the ground than the grumbling in her belly. Not all the plants in these woods looked familiar. She would have to learn about new herbs and medicines. There would likely be trial and error. Gretel was not yet hungry enough to accept the possibility of error.
What to do?
Gretel closed her eyes and listened. She had not bothered the trees, they struck her as old and tired of children. Gretel was a young woman but she supposed most humans would feel like tiresome children to their ancient years.
Something compelled her to open her eyes, a hiss on the wind to look, so she did.
Bessie found her first. The fox kit ran ahead of his wolf companion, only pausing a moment before approaching the girl on the path. Bessie was young, still small, with a prosthetic leg attached to a front paw to help with his limp. Heâd come along way from the previously shy and and apprehensive self, to a more vocal and outgoing fox.
Atreus had quickened his pace, but stopped just off the edge of trees to watch how it went. As a wolf, his black hair wasnât unusual, but the glow to his eyes was his distinguishable part. He kept his own mind, and it stopped him from rushing forward, not wanting to scare the girl.
Heâd seen her around since arrival, learning to find her way, and doing well enough from it - and had gotten the idea she wouldnât appreciate being offered help. Instead, what was offered was a noisy, happy fox, running up with a little fox grin on his face, making happy noises as he approached at high velocity speeds.
It was the wolf Gretel noticed at first. Her gift. It was a handsome creature. The hunter was right. Wolves were charismatic and she had not met one before. His eyes had a glow like the storm.
But the playful fox quickly distracted her. Gretel smiled at the way it danced and played.It was not until the creature was close and Gretel had crouched down that she noticed itâs small wooden leg.
âIs that creature your protector?â Gretel asked the fox. She could not hear words from the animals precisely, only know that she was understood and feel impressions. Simple yeses and nos were manageable. Longer responses took more concentration, like someone learning to read and slowly sounding out each letter before divining a word. âIâve heard wolves make for terrible conversation,â she added.
Gretel showed her hands, palms up. âUnfortunately I have nothing to offer you, but Iâm sure the woods are plentiful for a clever hunter like you.â
Atreus wasnât usually one to let people just assume he was a wolf, or to trick them in any way - which was funny enough to him, given everything he knew now - so the wolf ducked behind a rather large bush while Bessie stayed to play.
The fox could communicate in itâs own way, as all animals could, through emotions and their own language, and Bessie was exuding excitement and a mutual respect towards another member of the forest being kind to him.
When Atreus emerged again from the woods, he was himself, simple clothes slipped on from their hidden spot nearby, hands empty except for a little treat bag. He came out slowly, not wanting to spook the girl, and approached with a smile. âProtector.. Friend. Wolves donât make for terrible conversation if you listen close enough, but sometimes they can be jerks.â He held out a little piece of dried beef for Bessie, who came running to leap into his hand for it. âIâm Atreus. Are you out here all alone?â
Gretel was still, and though she was cautious she did not show fear. If anything she steeled her resolve. The woods were dangerous, and if she were going to live in them, she would have to navigate dealings with others carefully.
Still, when she saw the treats being fed to the fox, she could not help but wonder where the source of that flesh came from. Was he really a man or a wolf? Did it matter?
âI am,â Gretel said. A small self conscious nudge sent her fingers through her short hair to make sure there wasnât anything in them left over from sleeping on the forest floor the night before.
âSorry,â Atreus immediately apologized and backed off, just so she wouldnât think him a threat. He wasnât half as big as his father, but still a stranger in the woods, and one that had just been a wolf. âMy house-â He pointed through the trees, to the far off fence that started around the edge of his property. âItâs pretty close, so we go running a lot nearby for exercise.â
Atreus glanced down at Bessie, who took his treat back to Gretel and flopped down, rolling around in the dirt and leaves as if he was showing off. âHis name is Bessie, and I think he likes you. Heâs still getting used to people.â
Gretel smiled, despite herself. Animals were scared. Her world was barely surviving famine. Only the wealthy had animals to tend to, and much of the forests had been hunted scarce. âI think I like him as well. I am also still getting used to people,â she admitted.
He seemed to ask nothing of her, and of that Gretel approved. He looked like a prince in the stories, meant to rescue cursed princesses. Since Gretel was not a princess, she could not imagine him having any such interest in her. This also put her at ease. âI think I might prefer wolves and foxes,â she said wryly. She still did not know which one he was.
âI am Gretel,â she said to the fox. Though cleverly, she was speaking to the stranger as well. âIf these are your lands, I can try to keep my distance. I meant no trespass.â
Atreus liked that she talked to Bessie, and his grin was telling of it. She reminded him more of people that heâd met back home - the ones that had either stayed through fimbulwinter or had returned when it eased up - than most people here.
He knew from experience not to be too pushy, though, even if Atreus had a million questions running through his head, threatening to spill out. âNo, itâs okay. Weâre sort of trespassers here ourselves. My house showed up one day like us Outlanders do, so even it isnât native.â He wished he could offer more of an explanation, but had none.
âOh just-- donât go beyond the fence unless I say itâs okay? Itâs an animal wildlife center, and I help heal them there. Some of them are dangerous.â Like Brick, the Worg that was currently sleeping his goblin-injuries off in the barn.
âI will not,â Gretel promised. She was not eager to venture into a strangerâs house again, no matter how inviting it may have looked or how good it smelled. She crouched down toward the fox again, offering her fingers, which were black as ink. They had blackened as she came into her gift.
âMay I touch your fur, Bessie?â she said to the fox. It looked soft and warm and inviting, and it was clear sheâd never had a pet before. Gretelâs face was equal parts hesitation and desire. This island wasnât cursed like her home. There was food here, life. Bessie represented just how much better this place might be, replacement leg or no.
Atreus leaned in just a little to get a closer glimpse at her hand, eyes narrowing just slightly at it as he tried to figure it out. He wasnât good with human healing, because he couldnât hear what was wrong with them in the way that he could with animals, but it didnât stop him from wanting to try.
âGo ahead,â Atreus softly replied after a moment, softly translating for Bessie. âBe careful of his mouth, though. He wonât bite you on purpose so much as he has really sharp teeth and is young and excitable.â His nosiness finally won out and he tilted his head toward her hand. âAre you injured?â
It took a moment for Gretel to put together what he meant, judging by the blinking of her eyes. She held up her hands as if only just remembering. Bessieâs fur momentarily forgotten. âThese?â she asked. When she saw confirmation on his face, she shook her head. âTheyâre who I am.â A sign of her gift. Gretel did not know what they meant exactly, did not know if they meant she was destined for dark things. She was not eager to share her uncertainty with a stranger butâŠ
âCan all wolves turn to men?â she asked. Sheâd never met a wolf before. It seemed both an ignorant and honest question.
A wave of understanding washed over Atreus, and he grinned in return. âOh!â He motioned to his tattoos, the one up his neck that crept into his hair where it blended in. Another runic sigil was visible on his forearm when his arm went up. âSame with me. Mine are Runic. Theyâre from the realm and area I come from - Midgard.â
The question made his grin blossom even wider, he glanced back to the bushes where heâd shifted - it was a fair question, and one he wouldâve asked not too many years before. âJust me-- or not just me, thereâs a few others that can do it as well. Iâm usually a person, just sometimes a wolf. Bessie is just Bessie, though.â
Gretel wanted to ask something, but it occurred to her to be cautious. So instead, tempering a simmering question behind her eyes, she asked, âWhat does it cost? To change like you do?â
She idly crouched down to touch the fox. Gently, to see if he would be cautious or nip her fingers. Gretel was not eager to spill blood, especially not her own to an excited little mouth. Still, she wanted to know what the fox felt like.
As alone as she practiced at being in the woods, she could not help but seek some small, fragile little connection. Her eyes went back to the markings on Atreus. Perhaps they were more alike than she knew.
âNothing just-â Atreus didnât like feeling as if he was gloating, from years of trying to be better than other Ăsir. Training from his father, and just leaning hard on what heâd learned of his mother well before he knew his parentage. âIt was a natural skill for my motherâs people, so Iâve practiced a lot?â
Bessie let his fluffy fur trail under her skin, and opened his mouth to make happy little noises. He didnât nip, but he also didnât sit still for long, as he took off running back towards the house after just a few pets. âHe has attention span issues, sorry.â
He watched the fox go and stop at the very edge of the fence, as if waiting for them to follow. Atreus turned back to look at her, eyebrows raised in question. âWhen was the last time you ate?â
Gretel went still, precariously positioned between not wanting to offend him and reluctant to accept food from strangers. The memory of the witch who fed her children enchanted into cakes and biscuits was still very fresh.
âI found berries this morning,â she said. It hadnât been a lie but it wasnât much of a breakfast. âBerries are more honest than mushrooms. They tell you if they desire you to suffer or not. I donât think the mushrooms know any better.â
Atreus could tell when someone wasnât quite sure, and had already gotten the idea that she wasnât the most trusting of people. He was the opposite, but after being around his father for so long, it didn't surprise him to meet the wary ones.
Instead, he smiled, and didn't offer her the jerky from his pack like he desperately wanted to. âThe white mushrooms in this area are safe, I keep track of everything if I can. If you want something a little more hearty, the Quills will trade meals for work,â probably for less, but he didn't mention that as he continued. âCleaning the kitchens and stables and such. I did that when I first arrived.â
Gretel nodded.
Perhaps if she got desperate.
Her stomach was all talk, and for now she could ignore it.
âThank you. I will be fine.â It wasnât quite spoken like a question. Gretel almost believed she would be. Sheâd been here before. Sheâd survived. This time there seemed to be more people who had taken an interest in her than last time, their motives not immediately dark, but it also meant more opportunity to be fooled. âI appreciate your kindness. Perhaps one day, Iâll learn to change my shape as you do.â
Atreus ran a hand through the longer part of his hair at the top, messing it up to distract himself from trying to offer her something else. Food. Water. Shelter. Anything. He may have made a little noise.
He ultimately resigned himself to the idea that heâd maybe see about adding more edible plants around the area. A little open garden. Something that wasnât just ⊠letting someone go on without food.
He blew out a breath but ended it with a grin. âItâs usually different for everyone? But if you want to try, I can always help you.â In the distance, Bessie started yelling for him, and he looked over his shoulder towards him, watching as he anxiously bounced around. âI have to go, but if you need anything, you can come knock on our door. Or find me in the forest, or at the Quills. Or on the network. Okay?â
Gretel nodded. âThank you, sir.â
She stopped short of promising that she would, because she didnât want to lie to him. But she did offer him a smile, which was more than she offered most. Perhaps in time, she would learn to trust kindness again.