They swung open the cage door, cattle prods at full power, humming with electricity. The man lazily lifted his hands in surrender. "Now, now." He said softly. His voice was like velvet. "No need. I'll do as you please." The man in the cage said, his...
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Children protested and whined about their play being interrupted as they were shoved behind their parents, while teenagers snapped and bared baby teeth, their gangly wolf forms all raised hackles and pomp. Their parents weren't far behind, some of them shifting while others raised various weapons and hurried away with the youngest of the pack.
Theo was surrounded in a matter of moments, spearpoints at her neck and breast and midsection. Dancer howled with glee, turning Theo's already dark skin a dusky shade of black. Theo remained in control though, her hands held above her head, fingers splayed wide with innocence.
The crowd began parting. Warm bodies fringed with frosted fur shuffled aside as an older gentleman waved his way through, his dark brown hair streaked through with gray. Behind him was a fair woman, her hair a burnished silver that hung down so low around her fragile form that it nearly brushed the ground. It was clumsily half braided with dried flowers.
The crowd fell silent as the older man stepped into the circle that surrounded her and then beyond it. He said something in a deep, burly voice layered with years of Russian syllables.
Theo opened her mouth, but realized she had no way of translating her message to the group. Her eyes shot to the sky to track the moon as it peaked in the sky. The woman behind the man inhaled quietly, drinking in the scents of the sacred night.
"You speak English?" She asked. Her voice was smooth, rich leather, with the chime of something high and lilting underneath.
Theo nodded sharply, and then forced her stiff neck down in submission. Dancers' teeth bared, and Theo fought to conceal the action from appearing on her own lips as they fought to curl up.
"What business does a lycan have here, with our family at the edge of the world?" The man's accent was the same froggy and unfamiliar one that Kiril shared. He fumbled his English letters far more than the woman, clearly a novice speaker, but Theo made due.
She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and raised her eyes with all the sincerity left in her body. "My name is Theophania Pennrose, and I come with a warning of war."
The crowd of wolves set to muttering, exchanging frightened and wary glances in equal measures. The woman with the long silver hair reached out and curled her fingers gently around the arm of the man who had spoken. She gave him a look with eyes that Theo only now noticed were a pure, rheumy white.
The man studied her passive face for a moment and then sighed heavily. He said something in Russian, and Theo tensed, preparing for the results of an order she didn't understand.
The blind woman turned her gaze back to Theo, and said in a gentler, reassuring tone, "it's no battle we want. You've been granted conditional safety."
The men and women around him shook their heads in shock, mumbled tense words to one another, though none dared to fight against the decision that had apparently been made about her.
