SUNG
It was extraordinary how it took them almost two days to locate the silent one. It had caught the scent of the females in wildwood city. The scouts had followed it directly towards them for a day while they called Sung. But before he arrived, the silent one had started to circle and was spiralling his way through the wildwood; he wasn't going in any particular direction, so Sung almost missed the scouts that had stayed behind to follow it. By the time he sighted the animal, his skin was itching to shift, and the smell of a dominant male hit so hard that he was forced to stop for a few seconds to bring himself under control.
One of the adolescents, Leonine, along for the trip to learn how these things were done, lost control, and the other men's attention was distracted, helping him return to himself. Sung heaved a sigh of relief that none noticed his battle. They would have known that was not normal for him. When everyone was back in their natural forms, and the men had turned back to him, expecting that he would begin to move, he shook his head.
"Just a moment," he said bluntly. Sung closed his eyes and inhaled deeply like he was pulling the animal's scent when he was genuinely working on disciplining his body. He frowned. Why was the urge to shift so strong? He hadn't had to fight it like this since his teens. But with the controlling breath had come a new scent on the breeze, or rather, he had sensed a quality to the silent one's scent he had not picked up before. "Do you smell that?" he asked the scout leader.
The man sucked in through his nose with his eyes closed and frowned. "What is it?"
"I do not know," Sung turned to face the animal's direction less than a mile away if his nose was right. "But I think we better find out."
A few minutes later, they crept along a rise above a clearing where a freshwater creek hugged the eastern side. The animal's scent was strong here, and as they reached the edge of the rise, Sung put his hand up to signal the others to stop walking and wait for his further command. Alone, he padded to the edge and peered over, his eyes widening.
The creature below was massive. It was nearly as large as he in his transformed state, its jaws alone big enough to crush a man's head. It was no wonder the scouts had called him in to deal with it, and he thanked the creator that they had. But it was not the size that gave Sung pause. There was a scent on the animal, something unnatural, something sharp. The male lay in the shade of the rocks below, asleep because it was daytime. Their animal ancestors far preferred to move and hunt at night.
Sung had been careful to approach downwind so he would not disturb it. He would allow it to catch his scent when the time was right. In some cases, that alone was enough to move a silent one along. But Sung doubted that would be the case this time. He cursed under his breath. The lion below was not just huge; it had that smell of something off, and its scent was heavy with its dominance. How a male that strongly came to be alone, Sung could not understand. To have reached the size and certainty and not have already gathered himself a considerable pride was utterly illogical. And yet, here he was.
Muttering under his breath and rolling his shoulders to push back the urge to shift and show this monster who was boss. Sung slunk back down the rise and rejoined his men below. Using hand signals for them to follow, he ran them half a mile away, still downwind, to discuss the strategy.
This one was going to need a meticulous approach.
***
JOYCE
She knew it was too early; Sung had said he'd likely be gone for at least three days. But her stomach flipped when she saw Erwin at the market the second day. She had thought the defender had gone with Sung. Who was protecting him if Erwin was not?
Joyce had noticed the guards at the cave, along the path, and at different points during the day; she had caught sight of men with the same leather armbands as Erwin watching her. Especially when Lucine was nearby, scowling at her, she had noticed. But she had not seen Erwin himself. She had assumed he had gone with Sung. If he was here and Sung was not…
She saw him at the market tables, his back to her, speaking to people at one of the tables near the back, but by the time she got down to the floor, he was gone. When she followed the nearest trail through the forest to one of the city's commerce rows. She saw stalls and boxes lined up under and around and occasionally inside the massive tree trunks; she caught sight of him again, speaking with one of the merchants. Swallowing her insecurity, she walked firmly up to him, intending to ask him why he was not with Sung and what he knew about their King's return.
He spoke quietly to the woman who was showing him lengths of leather when Joyce touched his shoulder and said, "Erwin, I am sorry to interrupt, but-"
The man shoved a breath and whirled on her, drawing his sword at the exact moment he froze, eyes wide, when he saw her. Joyce froze too. Looking at him in shock.
"Joyce!" he ground out.
"I am sorry; I didn't mean to startle you-"
"Then do not touch me without warning, not if you wish to keep your hand!" he barked, shoving his sword back into its sheath and turning his back on her.
"But… I just wanted to ask you…." Then she caught the look of fierce disapproval the merchant was giving her, and she caught the whispers of two others nearby, who glared at her when she turned.
She didn't understand; what had she done? She stood lamely, uncertain whether to apologise again or leave Erwin alone when someone cleared their throat behind her. She turned and found another merchant stall just a few feet away, with a young man standing behind it. He was very tall like Erwin and had the same barrel chest yet slim limbs. When Joyce looked at him, he tipped his head for her to approach him. She looked at Erwin again, but he was intentionally ignoring her. Had he only been kind to her before because she was with Sung? Was this what it would be like whenever her husband was not nearby?
The young man made another psssst sound, and she turned back to him, approaching slowly, and then he nodded. She stepped up to his stall and waited while he unfolded a pretty, braided necklace in front of her as if he was showing it off for her to purchase. His words were shallow, almost a whisper and spoken through a tense jaw.
"He's equine. We are, in our hearts, prey animals. Touching one of us without warning is a good way to get your head kicked off," he said quietly, stroking the braided leathers before him like he was pointing something out to her.
"I…I didn't know…."
He nodded. "They are trying to show you. But you are not listening."
"I… what?" she said, swallowing the pinch in her throat.
He lifted his eyes to meet hers; his eyes were a deep, rich brown and kind. Though his expression was firm. "They are trying to give you the signals. Show you how to behave correctly. But you are not listening. You keep apologising to people or rushing away. That is not how things work here. You are breaking all the rules all the time."
"What rules?"
"The tribal rules. Our cultural ways. You did not learn them as a foal, so you have to learn them now. They are trying to show you all of them."
"No, they are not. They ignore me, or whisper about me or just avoid me completely," she said bitterly, taking the leathers he offered and pretending to look at them.
The young man chuckled. "I promise they are not ignoring you at all. They just do not know what else to do. They are trying to teach you, but you are not learning."
"How can I learn if no one speaks to me?"
He blinked, his eyebrows up. "You learn by observing. By watching and mimicking. Did the adults in your world not show you how to behave?"
She pursed her lips. "The adults, in my world, explain themselves when they want someone to understand something. They do not just turn their backs and… and…."
"You misunderstand what just happened," he said, nodding towards Erwin. "He finished shopping right after you startled him. But he is making excuses to be there now, to give you a chance to try again correctly."
"How am I supposed to know what is correct if he does not tell me? He just turned his back on me!"
"So, you would have another chance to try again, as you did the first time. This time, instead of touching his back, move to his side, where he can see you. Wait until he looks at you, then ask your question." She frowned, but the youth smiled. "I am serious. I am trying to help. Give it a try."
She turned back to Erwin, who seemed to be making small talk with the merchant. None of them looked at her, but there was an air of tension around them. Swallowing her pride, she put her shoulders back. She walked slowly towards Erwin, carefully approaching his side, where he could see her. Then she did as the young man suggested and waited until he had stopped speaking and glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
"I-I am sorry to interrupt you, Erwin. But I was surprised to see you here. I thought you went with Sung? Do you have any news about when he will be back?"
Erwin shook his head. "The silent one is pride work," he said gently. "I cover things here while Sung is gone to make sure there is no trouble."
Joyce looked at her hands. "Okay, well, have you heard anything?"
He shook his head again. "I likely would not unless there is a severe problem. Sung will handle it, and then they will return. I am certain he would not stay away a moment longer than necessary, Joyce," he said and winked at her.
She blushed, suddenly remembering the last time she had seen this man. Cheeks hot, she nodded. "Okay, thank you. I am sorry, again, that I startled you."
"You learned. That's all we can ask," he said kindly. The merchant nodded as well. And Joyce gave him an awkward smile, then excused herself.
Behind her, the young man was beaming. "Nicely done!" he said as she returned to his stall. "You see, you only have to watch and learn. Things will improve."
"Thank you," she said softly. "But I wouldn't have understood that if you had not explained it."
The man looked at her with a strange frown. "Things must be very different in your world," he said, shaking his head.
She sighed. "Very. I am Joyce, by the way."
The man huffed. "Yes, I know. We all know who the human queen is," he said with a wry smile. "My name is Gray."
"Well, thank you for your help, Gray. If you ever have any other tips for me, I am always open to hearing them. I am afraid I did not know people were trying to communicate with me. Now I wonder who else I have hurt or angered without knowing it."
"Oh, everyone," he said, smiling. "But they do understand that you are ignorant rather than dark-hearted. They do not know any way to teach you other than to demonstrate. And I could see that you were not quite catching on."
"Well, thank you," Joyce repeated. "Perhaps we could share a meal or something, and you could offer me more help? I'd like to feel more confident about how to treat people in ways they prefer."
He stared at her momentarily, then looked behind them, though she could not see anything back there except more trees. When he turned around, he sighed.
"Yes," he said carefully. "I think that would be a good idea."
***
SUNG
Ordering the others to stay several spans behind him, Sung circled until he would be downwind of the silent one. The lion immediately began to huff, the calls resonating in his massive barrel chest and echoing off the trees. Sung did not call back, did not entertain the challenge, and just let himself feel his position, dominance, and desire for his mate.
The male would scent the certainty of his position, and although he was unlikely to walk away, the scent of the females was strong here; he would be wary and would feel Sung's power and strength before they met. Surprisingly, the male did not move toward him. The calls did not come closer or any faster than Sung's confident pace toward it. Sung frowned; any male who challenges dominance should automatically approach. Why did this one stay where he was?
The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Sung stalked toward the clearing, now making his own growls of dominance. When he finally reached the line of trees at the clearing, on the opposite side of the shade the lion had been resting in, he saw the beast pacing back and forth. It was as if some kind of wall stood between them as if something was stopping it from coming for him. But when Sung stepped out, it stopped suddenly, standing evenly on all four paws, head down, not in submission, but its eyes piercing. Measuring its tail lashing back and forth… in anger?
Sung realised as he entered the sunlight that nothing about this creature was normal. Sung then chose to roar his challenge, letting all of the wildwoods hear their king and know he stood between them and danger! In every clash he'd had with a silent one, they followed the traditions of the animal first scenting, then calling. Then the roar of the challenge, they circle to measure each other. Then Sung would transform so his appearance matched his scent.
Usually, that was all that was needed. Usually, the animal understood his superiority and reluctantly submitted. Twice before in his life, the animals had still circled for a long while, calling their challenge, then physically attacked him, trying to win dominance. Sung expected that with this one. He could see the animal would not back down; he had not expected the complete lack of warning. He was still twenty feet away, the lion's eyes following him, when he took the first step to the side, to circle, to allow the male to watch him move. Soon he had given in to the itching in his skin and taken his beast form. He started to smile; that moment always surprised them.
But instead, it leapt forward. No roar, no growl, no crouch to the dirt first.
It took him so entirely by surprise that Sung felt his side open under its claws before he shifted into his beast form and began to fight for his life.
***
JOYCE
Two days blended into three, and Joyce remained awkward and miserable. Talia was always kind when they ran into each other and would sit with her for meals. But she could tell her birdwoman did not want to be a daily tutor, so Joyce did not push for her company.
Twice during the day, she had seen one of the wolves she knew, Lucine or the male who had challenged Sung, in the circle watching her or standing nearby, their postures menacing. Erwin or one of his men always showed up in those moments, finding reasons to be nearby. But they'd also always disappear when the wolf moved on. Every time she left the city and headed down the path towards their cave, it was mere seconds before she noticed one of the guards in the trees nearby or walking the way ahead or behind her. She had no idea how they knew where to be and when. But she never made that walk alone. She also never made it with a friend. The guards did not chat or offer introductions. They just… guarded her. She knew she should be grateful, but somehow, it worsened her loneliness. As if there was a bubble around her that no one cared to pop.
No one except Gray.
Sitting at dinner that night, she had seen Gray as she walked into the market. Even though she did not know if inviting him to the podium with her broke customs, she decided she did not care. She beckoned him over when she caught his eye and asked if he wanted to join her for dinner. His eyes widened, but he said yes without hesitation, so she took that as a good sign.
As they ate, she continued to pick his brains. "Why didn't anyone tell me about the tribal cultures?" she said. "If they expect me to have these good manners or know how to approach them, why don't they just tell me?"
Gray ate like a starving man. He was nineteen, she had discovered. He was only a couple of years younger than her, though he looked younger and felt older. It was an odd combination. But Joyce was glad to have someone to talk to who was not treating her like a child or like they would rather be somewhere else.
"We all have to learn the different tribes and their rules," he said around a mouthful of deliciously tender dark meat. "But we learn those things when we are young. They kind of come; naturally, we can scent each other's ancestry after all," he grinned. "And when we made mistakes as kids, there would always be someone around who knew the right way to do it. And they would do it right before us, so we could watch and learn. I have seen people try to do that for you, step in after you have done something. But you usually flee. I do not think you noticed. The problem is when Anima refused to learn if, as a child, I threw a fit and ignored what an adult was trying to show me, we would be disciplined. They can't discipline a queen," he pointed out. "But they also are not sure you are queen; it is all very confusing."
Joyce snorted. "They think they are the ones who are confused?"
"Yes, they are," he said frankly. And even though his tone implied she should understand and his compassion rubbed at her pride, she appreciated that he looked her straight in the eye and spoke to her like an adult. And that he did not pull any punches. It was uncomfortable, sometimes brutal. But he also did not seem to judge her for it; Joyce was so grateful he had been there the day before.
And she was grateful that she now had someone willing to answer all her questions. So, she took a deep breath and started asking.
"Other than the scent, how do you tell what tribes other people are from?" she asked Gray. "I can't smell the difference on anyone. And I feel like if I ask-"
"Never ask!" he shuddered, swallowing his mouthful, eyes wide. "It is a huge offence to an Anima if you imply that you can't tell what they are; it means that they are not true to their tribe. Don't… definitely don't do that."
Joyce swallowed. She would come so close a couple of times! Why didn't anyone tell her this?
"Okay, I believe you. So… how can I tell?"
Gray's brow furrowed, and he looked out over the market. "I am so used to scenting I had not thought about… okay… we all look a little different, though you must be careful. The equines (horses) we have, have long arms and legs but thick bodies. The Avalines, the birds are quite sharp in their features and often have long noses, but for creator's sake, don't ever mention it," he added hastily.
She nodded. "That is what Talia is, correct?"
Gray nodded, still scanning the tables. "The Lupines are wolves. They are usually quite muscular, and they hold themselves like predators."
"Like they want to hurt you?"
"Yes, that sense of threat. You will usually only get that from a wolf or a pissed-off Lion. Occasionally an Amphiline – especially the serpents."
"Serp- you mean snakes?" she shuddered.
Gray rolled his eyes. "What is it with humans and snakes?" he muttered. "I have read about this. What difference is there between a snake and a goat?"
"Snakes are so… sinister. So shifty, you never know they are there-"
"Well, that's certainly true, but they are our best trackers. And if you want to identify them… um… their ears are usually quite small, and they move gracefully."
Joyce looked around the floor but could not see anyone until she remembered that first night. "The guy who talked to Sung in the circle… Severus?"
Joyce nodded, more pleased than she had a right to be that she had picked it.
"There are goats and sheep; they are hard to know since they are both herd animals and prey. Most sheep have curly hair unless their families marry goats somewhere back in their line, but do not mention it again. They are sensitive for some reason. You will find both of them in the trades a lot. And the main difference you can see is in how they act. The goats are ruder, arguing or trying to haggle you on prices. Sheep prefer to go about their business and expect you to follow them."
Joyce was lost. Had she met anyone that felt like that? She did not think so. "I guess I will have to keep my eyes peeled."
Gray choked on his food. "Why would you peel your eyes?" he spluttered when he could breathe again.
Joyce groaned. "It is just a saying. It means to watch closely and look for something."
Gray shuddered. "Humans are weird. For such weaklings, you use very graphic metaphors," he muttered.
Joyce giggled. "I guess we do," she said. They ate quietly for a minute before Joyce remembered to thank him again for his help the day before. "I wish I had known these things earlier; what you said about how they have been trying to help and teach me, I feel terrible. I never meant to ignore anyone. It is just so different!"
Gray nodded. "I could see you were struggling. If Sung had not been so busy, he would have shown you. But the Leonine are always so sure of themselves, they forget that others are not," he said, a hint of bitterness in his tone.
Joyce frowned. "Leonine, the lions. That's what Sung is, and there's more of them?" She knew that Sung had mentioned it. But she had not met anyone that she could be sure of.
"There are a lot more females than males, which I guess is normal for them," he said, nodding to a table with three rows of women. "They are all leonine," he said. "And their pride has a hierarchy from the highest, Sung, down to the newest cub. Can you tell which woman is dominant at that table?" he said, pointing with his knife.
Joyce watched the women for a while. There were six of them at the table; a young one about her age and up to a woman with grey hair and wrinkles. Would it go by age? She remembered that they taught through behaviour and watched the women interact.
"That young one in the middle," she said a minute later. "She seems to be doing all the talking."
Gray shook his head. "That is just a personality thing. Fadya is a chatterer," he said good-naturedly. "No, dominance is not about how much attention you get; it is about who can give commands and who has to listen when given. Try again."
Joyce watched them a while longer and soon saw the woman at the head of the table, who looked like she was in her forties. She barely spoke other than indicate something on the table to the woman next to her, who immediately picked up the jug of juice from the centre and poured it for her. As Joyce watched, she began to see a dynamic between them all, where each woman kept her shoulders low or her eyes when she looked at certain others but raised her chin to others. She never dropped her eyes or her chin the entire time. All except that middle-aged woman at the head.
"It is the one at the head. She's… they all listen to her."
"That is right, well done, you learn fast."
Joyce shrugged. She had always been a quick learner. If someone would explain what she needed to learn, that was.
"It is interesting," she said, still watching the women. "That woman is not the biggest or the strongest. I thought dominance was about beating others into submission?"
Gray chuckled. "Those Leonine are all strong, do not worry about that. They are muscular like the wolves but… stronger. Weirdly, very confident, even the quiet ones and females are… I mean, I am no lion, so I would not pretend to understand it all, but somehow the females make most of the decisions. It is weird. I have watched a lioness cuff Sung around like a child when she thinks he needs to eat or sleep more. And I have seen him ask them what he should do about things among the people and do what they say. And yet, he just… rules. Everyone in the pride listens when he speaks. It is extraordinary. He is so arrogant and sure of himself. Yet they often speak up and not very pleasantly. I do not understand it. You would need to have him explain it to you; I only know that women have a significant role in decisions. Especially about the home and their families, mating, that kind of thing," Joyce blushed and wondered if he had heard the story about her interrupted mating. She suspected he had when Gray grinned back at her. But he did not mention it, just continued his lesson. "But rest assured, Joyce, they do truly dominant fight very little. They do not have to. Everyone else can tell they will lose before they even start. So, they do not have to fight much at all. It was only when someone else had a high opinion of themselves or if they were growing towards becoming dominant. At some point, Sung will have a challenger. Then we will see a fight for the ages," because Grey raised a hand, Joyce's anxiety must have shown on her face. "Do not worry! That is decades away. Sung has been our strongest ruler for generations, and his father held the throne for almost forty years. No, dominance is not about his looks or even his strength. It is more about intelligence and… attitude. Believe in yourself."
"He has plenty of that," Joyce muttered.
Gray laughed.
By the end of the meal, Joyce's head was spinning. But she felt like she better understood whom she was dealing with. And she already had many questions for the next time she had a chance to talk to Gray. Now, if she could just get Sung back and get this mating thing over with, she might be able to start building a life among these people.
SUNG
Sung returned to himself and lay on the forest floor, his clothes in bloodstained tatters around him from the sudden shift. He blinked, and it took a moment for his sight to clear, which was odd. But then a shudder rocked him, and he almost shifted again.
Fuck!
He had thought that shifting into his beast form to fight the silent one and exerting his dominance so aggressively would have satisfied the urge. But his body still wanted to transform and take and master him. What was wrong with him?
He rolled over to get to all fours and bit back a cry. His ribs pressing one hand to them provided that the beast had gotten its claws into him before changing. The swipe gave him a decent battering to his ribs as well. Ah well, at least the creature had gotten a taste of him before he had to kill it. He hated killing the silent ones when all they did was follow the instincts the creator gave them. Some of the Anima found a strange kind of sport in it, but Sung never had. Hunt for food, certainly. But never for the pleasure of it and never to create fear or pain for the animal.
Being far more careful now, Sung tucked his arm into his sore side and rolled slowly until he was on all fours, well, three, since he kept that arm tight. Four sets of feet appeared in front of him just as he was about to try to stand.
"Majesty! Are you all right?"
"I will be fine," he said, then groaned as his back began to tremble and roll with the urge to shift again. Creator's light. What was wrong with him? "Get back, step back!" he snarled, swallowing back the urge to change. He might not recognise them as allies if he shifted now with all these young males in front of him. His beast form worked almost purely on instinct. He knew himself, but only clearly when he was back in his flesh.
The four shuffled back but did not leave, obviously alarmed at what they saw. They could see his body rippling, trying to shift, naked as he was. These four were all just old enough to be past the age of those unintentional shifts that so plagued the teenage boys of the pride. The older scouts would be exemplary; even if he did change, they would know to avoid him, except that young man who came with his father.
"Tell… Eryan… to get his son away…" he snapped, rolling his head to push back the mane that wanted to grow around his shoulders. "If we both shift…."
"Sire!"
"Do it! Tell the elders… if I do not return right away… lead me towards the city. But do not let me in! Take me… Khloe… she has a soothing…."
"But what is happening? Why-"
"No time…" he groaned, and it echoed in his chest with the rumble of his beast. "I will travel faster and better… as a beast anyway… just… don't let me into the city. Bring Erwin… he will know what to do…."
The four continued to stare at him, wide-eyed.
"GO!" he roared, and they ran, sinking silently into the shadows as they should. But still, Sung did not let himself give over to the shift. The longer they had to get to the others and deliver the message, the better chance they had if he could not return; they had not prepared to deal with a frustrated, wounded ruler of all beasts, trying desperately to get back to his mate.
Oh shit! Joyce. She could not see him like this. She would be terrified. He let himself back down onto the forest floor, clenched his hands into fists and held on as long as he could. He gritted his teeth and fought for us as long as he could, but something in him had lost control. The beast inside roared, swiping at him, trying to claw its way out. He did not know what had happened, what was causing such a fierce lack of control. But he would find out before he returned to his mate, as long as the men did what he said and got him to Khloe.
"Creator, please…" he murmured a prayer as his back began to stretch. "Let me come back to myself. Do not let me hurt Joyce, please."
Then he gave up and sank into the teeth and claws of his Anima self.
A moment later, the mighty king growled as he got to his four great paws and surveyed the little clearing, nostrils flaring as he took in the scents around him. Other males were nearby but moving away and still more out of range. He roared to let them know he was the king of this forest, and they would not do well to come into his territory. But his tail twitched, and he shook his head.
His side hurt. He turned, looking for the challenger he had killed. It was sprawled not far away among the underbrush. But when he smelled it, he blew the breath out of his nostrils in alarm. There was a strange sharpness to its scent. Something unnatural, he would not eat from that carcass, no matter that he needed the strength.
No… He turned west and let a groaning huff resonate in his chest. The forest around him went utterly silent.
He needed his den to rest and heal. He needed his mate, so he would pad through the forest until he found her.