Seiya's startin' to get used to this.

"This" means a lotta things, to be honest-- it encompasses the strangeness of bein' away from home, venturin' out into all the places Charon offers outside of the familiar forests and beaches of the Crescent Isles, it captures the feeling of findin' strength in places he expects the least, whether it's in the stillness of a quiet night or by the side of another person, and most of all, it refers to the weirdness of bein' treated like a godsdamned human being, even if he really ain't one.

It ain't like he's not proud of who he is or like he'd trade his skin for someone else's, but Seiya's spent his life gettin' all too used to the wariness tossed his way by the ordinary people who call the Isles home-- it's part of being a half-demon, of bein' born a bad omen, of bein' the one and only child of a demon as violent and unrepentant as the Dog Prince. Really, Seiya can't say he blames anyone for bein' uneasy around him; he's not exactly the most approachable-lookin' guy at the end of the day, with his sharp claws and teeth and wild eyes, with skin stained by the tears of the stars and the stature of a beast. Doesn't make it suck any less when people do shoot him weird looks, but he's learned there ain't much he can do to rattle the roots of old fear.

Still, it does make it all the stranger when people show him genuine kindness-- and stranger still when they willingly ask for his help, especially with somethin' that has nothin' to do with a fight.

The last thing Seiya'd been expectin' when he'd decided to take a walk through Moonveil Forest on his way out to the Marsh Flats was for some old stranger to stop him in his tracks, worry shinin' in aged eyes as he'd meekly asked if Seiya'd be up for givin' him a hand. He'd hardly known how to respond at first, but it ain't like he'd say no-- he knows damn better than to deny an earnest request for aid like that, after all. Mama taught him that much and far more-- besides, odds are it was probably gonna be some request for him to hunt down some monster terrorizin' the land, and there's nothin' Seiya loves more than monster-huntin'.

...and then the guy'd introduced himself as a farmer, one whose fences got all kinds of screwed up, leavin' all his magic sheep or whatever to go runnin' out into the woods, and now here Seiya is, searchin' through the forest for a sign of one of those sheep and wonderin' why the hell this guy thought he looked the part of a shepherd.

"Gods above, they're sneaky little guys," he grumbles to himself, arms folded and gaze sharp as he looks between the trees, lookin' for a sign of one of those damn sheep. "How'd they learn to hide that well...?"

---

SPOILER: Click to show

Description: A local farmer has reported that their livestock has gone missing, having broken free from their pen late in the night after a earthquake rattled their fencing. Now many of the farmers cows, bulls, donkeys or goats are scattered throughout the wilderness, and need help getting back to their pen. While the farmer repairs the fences, you need to gather up the animals and return them home safely and unharmed.

“No! No! NO! Go that way! FUCK!”

Seiya hears them long before seeing them. The sound of swearing and snapping branches disturbs the relatively calm which is normal for Moonveil Forest. The sounds of a struggle get louder and eventually, crashing through the undergrowth, appears a particularly large and grouchy woolful dragging an average sized but equally grouchy fellblood.

Zarius’ boots skid across the ground as the old woolful drags him past some the trees and into the path of Seiya. “Gods. Just. Stop!” He braces his heels against a root and manages to get the woolful to finally come to a stop.

Huffing and puffing, he straightens up and grabs the woolful by the horn and tries to turn its head back the direction of where the farmer Seiya met kept his pen. “Go on home now.”

As he lets go, the stubborn animal instead turns a different direction and starts off again, plowing through the bushes with a mocking 'baaaaa'. Zarius’ shoulders drop and he just stares at the sky exasperated. Never work with animals or children.

He wipes his brow then finally notices Seiya right there. “Oh…uhm…hello, can I help you?”

Zarius wasn't expecting to see anyone else out here and is caught a bit off guard. He's covered in mud and tree debris from wrestling with the woolfuls in a futile attempt to herd them back towards the farm at the behest of the senile old farmer. Normally he wouldn't bother getting his hands dirty with such a menial request...except that he had to take responsibility for what happened.

While traveling in the region with one of his new recruits, the recruit's drake got a little out of hand and ended up going after the livestock. This caused the herd to panic and burst through their pen, escaping into the woods. Zarius had offered the farmer monetary compensation, but the farmer was much more worried about retrieving the animals, so the fellblood left the recruit to fix the fences and keep the drake away from the woolfuls while he went to try and corral them on foot. 

Needless to say, Zarius does not have a bright future as a ranch hand. 

It takes a lot to startle Seiya.

He’s usually the one startlin’ others, to start– you’d think people might be a bit disarmed by the fluffy white ears or the tail, but it seems like the first things their eyes land on is the teeth, the eyes, the claws, the tools of a predator set into the frame of a man, all the way’s he’s imposin’ before they see the ways he’s open. It stopped hurtin’ his feelings a long time ago, but it ain’t like he ever stopped wishin’ for more people to have a different first reaction than jumpin’ from fear when he first tries to talk to him.

So it’s kinda strange to be in the opposite position; to be so focused on tryin’ to catch sight of those weird magic sheep or whatever through the stark lines of trees that the sound of an unfamiliar voice dropping a loud and very frustrated string of curses makes him jump.

Seiya swivels around immediately, turning in the direction of the voice, ears perked and brow furrowed as he searches for any signs of whoever’s comin’ this way– he doubts they’re tryin’ to be stealthy, considerin’ the aggressive yellin’, although if they were tryin’, they’re failin’. Seems like they’re after somethin’, too, and he probably has an idea of what, but before he has very long to wonder over it, there’s one of those weird little– except this one ain’t so little– sheep draggin’ along some stranger with skin like charcoal and eyes like citrine, twigs and leaves strewn through his night-dark hair, mud and dirt stainin’ his fancy, gilded-edged clothing. He doesn’t seem local, either– at least not local to any ranch or farmin’ village out this way, based on how he’s handlin’ that sheep.

The stranger doesn’t seem to notice him, either, too caught up in the chase, and Seiya ain’t sure if he should offer to help or what. Before he even gets the chase, though, the sheep-goat-something-whatever turns and takes off, slipping out of the fellblood’s grasp, and the poor guy practically deflates like a crushed temari ball– till he notices Seiya, that is.

“Think I should be the one askin’ you that, pal,” he says quickly, foldin’ his arms as he looks the stranger up and down. “Looks like you were havin’ some trouble with that thing. Need a hand?”

Zarius dusts himself off, though it does little good to make him any more presentable.

"Some trouble is an understatement," he gestures in the direction the woolful fled. "I am evidently outside of my realm of expertise."

He looks at the stranger, getting a better look at them. They're a freaking giant, easily towering over the shorter fellblood. It's obvious from their odd animalistic features, musculature, and scarring that they're not just some random civilian. Or if they are, well, Moonglade has a completely different standard for the average everyday person. 

The man is quite imposing, but Zarius is used to being dwarfed by others. This man could at least still fit through a standard door, while people like Izzy, Shaa, and Beist would have to do more than just duck their heads. It's actually to the man's favor that he is so tall and buff, otherwise the long white hair and pair of ears could have led to the fellblood mistaking him for someone he loathes with every fiber of his being. 

Zarius' tail twitches in response to the dog-man's question. It was irritating to be having so much trouble with what should be a far simpler task than fighting yeti or other monstrosities. But he is not so proud to refuse an offer of help. The sooner the dumb animals are corralled, the sooner he can get back to the work he's actually good at. 

"If you do not mind, some help would be appreciated," he replies, wiping the sweat from his brow off on his sleeve. "The herd is scattered all throughout the forest and they need to be chased back that way."

He points back towards where the farm was, which the dog-man already knew since the farmer had already recruited them without mentioning it to the fellblood. 

A soft chuckle spills from Seiya’s lips as soon as the stranger points out that he’s outside of his realm of expertise– it ain’t at his expense or nothin’, it’s just meant to be friendly, to clear any tension in the air.

“Yea, I didn’t think ya looked like the farmin’ sort,” he says easily. He ain’t intendin’ to be rude or anythin’– it’s just true! The man’s decked out in fancy gear all lined in gold, he’s got more belts than Seiya’s ever seen on one man, and he’s got necklaces looped ‘round his neck and shinin’ ornaments on his pattern-embellished horns– that ain’t a rancher’s outfit, that’s the kinda thing ya see on a noble or some upper-class fighter, some guy who comes from money, or at least from somewhere else. “Don’t feel bad or nothin’, those guys are more slippery than ya might think. ‘Course they’re gonna be tricky for someone who ain’t used to handlin’ ‘em.”

Of course, Seiya ain’t really all that used to ranchin’ himself, but there’s somethin’ deep inside his soul that tells him he’ll know how to handle this– that feels soothed by the idea of handlin’ all these weird little magic sheep, tellin’ ‘em where to go, guidin’ ‘em all home. It ain’t like he has any idea what that feelin’ is, but it’s not really the time for him to question it.

As soon as the stranger agrees to his help, Seiya offers him a broad, toothy grin, his sharp fangs poking out over the bottom row of his teeth, an ear twitchin’ and his tail waggin’ just so behind him as he holds out his hand to the stranger.

“Well, so we got the same assignment, I see,” he says with a chuckle. “Don’t worry, don’t worry, the two of us can handle it all just fine. The name’s Seiya, by the way– ‘sgood to meetcha.”

Although he really should wait for the other man to give an introduction, those weird magic sheep likely ain’t gonna wait on ‘em, so as soon as the stranger takes Seiya’s hand, he’s quick to haul him up onto his shoulders and start off into the woods in search of the flash of color that signifies the Whatever-These-Sheep-Are-Named-He-Wasn’t-Payin’-Attention-Oops.

“So what’s your name?” he asks casually, lookin’ up to the man on his shoulders as he rushes off.

Zarius refrains from giving the man a snarky response like no shit he doesn't look like a farmer. The temptation is there though. 

"Yes, very tricky indeed." 

The idea that these stubborn woolful have given him such trouble stings his ego more than the various little cuts on his skin gained from being dragged through the bushes. They're just dumb livestock, why was it harder to make them do as he wants in comparison to intellectual mages and politicians? Just ridiculous. 

He sighs. Damn that new hire of his. He thought having a drake rider around would come in handy but the bratty teen and her massive storm drake have been more trouble than they're worth so far. He has to seriously reconsider if he's going to continue to honor his word to her at this rate. 

"It would seem as such." A slight look of annoyance crosses his face as he thinks about the farmer failing to mention he had gotten someone else to help. 

"Nice to meet you as well, my name is-"

It doesn't even cross Zarius' mind to think of any consequence to shaking the large dog-man's hand. It's just a handshake, a common gesture of greeting. He instantly regrets accepting the gesture as he's hauled up onto the man's shoulders. 

He blinks slowly, processing what just happened and his face growing increasingly dark from embarrassment. Thank the gods there is no one else around besides the sheep. 

"Zarius."

Huh, Zarius– that ain’t a common name, far as he knows, and it certainly ain’t one Seiya’s heard anywhere on this side of Charon, or at all. Least he thinks. Sure ain’t local. That’s all the proof he needs to know that this guy ain’t from the Crescent Isles, besides, uh, literally everythin’ else– his clothes, his manner of speech, his accent, his lack of farmin’ knowledge, so on, so forth. He’s used to different syllables, different consonances, a kinda pronunciation that a lotta tongues in Charon can’t quite replicate properly, ‘specially with some specific clans and villages, but this guy’s name is pretty easy. Self-explanatory.

It’s kinda a fun name to say, though– got a different feel to it than most names from the Isles. Za-ri-us. Zaaarius.

…okay, maybe there’s somethin’ a little familiar ‘bout it, but he can’t quite place what it is.

“Well, nice to meetcha, Zarius,” he says earnestly, beamin’ up at the fellblood on his shoulders with a mouth full’a too sharp teeth, eyes flashin’ in the dappled sunlight before he turns ‘em back to the road ahead. “Think I already said that, but it ain’t somethin’ I mind sayin’ twice! Alright, lessee…”

Seiya slows his pace just slightly, narrowing his eyes as he searches for a familiar shape in the woods, the flash of colorful wool, the silhouette of a horn– only to immediately straighten up, eyes sharp, focused, as alert and aware as a predator lockin’ onto its prey. It’s a bit difficult to see beneath the shadows, but just couple of paces away, there’s one of those Weird-Sheep-Gods-Above-Who-Remembers-What-They-Are-Not-Seiya, with indigo clouds of wool clustered around its tiny body, carelessly grazin’ away. Seiya’s quick to scoop Zarius up again, carefully settin’ him back on the ground and pointing to the creature.

“There’s one,” he whispers. “Just gotta be gentle with it, Z…”

…wait a second.

Zarius– that’s the guy Cyran’s mentioned in his letters before! Duh!

“Oh!” he exclaims, albeit quietly, tryin’ to keep his voice hushed so they don’t alert the Creature. “You’re The Zarius– Cyran’s sorta told me about ya before.”

"Right..."

Zarius is still reeling from the fact that this man just scooped him up without any warning. He could protest and say something, but he decides against it. No point in causing a fuss with this stranger who didn't seem the type to have any ulterior motive.

He looks around while atop the dog-man's shoulders. This higher vantage point at least gave him a bit of a better view over the forest's underbrush. 

When Seiya suddenly straightens up, Zairus is nearly thrown back off his shoulders. It's a good thing that he has some solid core strength otherwise he may have had to grab onto the dog-man's hair or ears to keep himself from falling backward and awkwardly dangling upside down against his back. 

Once he's recovered his balance, he looks ahead, following the direction he thinks Seiya is looking, and can just make out one of those pesky sheep things. 

Then he's scooped and put back on solid ground. Thank gods. Still, he doesn't appreciate being manhandled. 

"I see it," he says in a quiet tone as he adjusts his jacket a bit. Stealth was his forte, so sneaking up on this thing was child's play. 

Before he can turn invisible and try to creep closer to the creature, Seiya makes a comment that catches his attention. 

He looks at the dog-man, tilting his head curiously. "You are an acquaintance of Cyran's?"

Odd, he's sure his hirelings would have mentioned if such a strange dog-man was hanging around the orphanage. It takes him a moment before he recalls Cyran having made vague mention of someone with similar features to Seiya. Ah. Well, that still isn't a lot of information to go off of, but he trusts the elf's judgment of character.

"Apologies, he mentioned you as well, though just what you look like."

Despite the fact that it definitely ain’t what he should be prioritizin’ right now, Seiya’s eyes sparkle a little with somethin’ like delight when Zarius confirms that he is, in fact, The Zarius– Cyran’s Friend Zarius. Well, presumed friend– it ain’t like Cyran gave him a whole lot to go off of when it came to the man, beyond a promise that if he ever got into any kinda trouble on the fierier side of Charon and he wasn’t around to help, Zarius would be the one to go to. There’s a chance they could just be distant acquaintances or somethin’, two people who owe each other favors, but it takes a deep sense of trust to redirect someone you care for to another person when you can’t help ‘em yourself.

So, Seiya decides, this Zarius is likely Cyran’s friend.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for,” he says, tone still quiet as he can keep it, another grin splittin’ his face, tail leisurely waggin’ back and forth– thankfully not so wildly that it thwacks against anythin’ and alerts the Purple-Fluffy-Mystery-Sheep-It’s-Called-Something-More-Specific-Than-That-He-Thinks-But-He-Still-Ain’t-Sure-He-Should-Ask-But-He’s-Embarrassed nearby. “Ain’t like I immediately figured out who you were, and I don’t think ‘Zarius’ is a very common name. So no worries!”

He shoots another glance over to the creature standin’ between the trees, his eyes narrowin’ as he watches it, makin’ sure it has no plans of movin’ anywhere– so far it’s just standin’ in place, lazily grazin’ on some of the dampened grass, unaware of either of them. These things don’t seem all too aware of their surroundings. Seiya ain’t sure if that’s typical for the species or just for this specific group or even just this specific creature, but he doesn’t have time for those kinds of questions right now.

“Err, I guess we can save the Cyran talk for later,” he mumbles sheepishly. “How d’ya wanna approach this? I can just pick it up, but you look ready to go in. I’m down to do whatever you wanna do.”

I can just pick it up.

Zarius slowly turns his head to look at Seiya.

This man. Just wants to walk up. And pick the thing up. Of course he does.

The fellblood sighs. Well, it's not a terrible idea to try. Seiya is likely to have more success with such a ridiculous plan than he is. He certainly wasn't able to life one of the beasts, but Seiya was much bigger and thicker in build than the fellblood. Perhaps he could actually pull the feat off as easily as he had said it. 

"I can sneak around to the other side in case it attempts to flee," he gestures towards the woolful. "If you want to make a grab for it, be my guest."

With that said, he turns invisible and stalks off silently through the woods.^[1,2] He circles around behind the woolful, careful not to brush up against any bushes. After a few moments, he positions himself on the other side of the woolful from Seiya. He's ready to spring into action should the dogman's attempt to "just pick it up" go south. Though he does hope it doesn't come to that, he's had it to about here with being dragged through the woods like a ragdoll. 

The woolful is obvious to the pair so far, just chewing way on whatever it can find sprouting up from the ground. 

---

[1] Invisibility
[2] Silent Step

Somehow, Seiya ain’t the least bit surprised when one second Zarius is there, and the next he ain’t.

It makes some kind of weird sense that Cyran, whose key proficiencies in life seem to be disconnectin’ a man’s soul from his body and gettin’ places without bein’ seen, would keep friends who can do similar stuff– it’s kinda enviable, really, that he’s got more than one person in his life who’s capable of slippin’ out of view just like that. Seiya ain’t sure if it’s just magic or the same call of the shadows that lurk over Cyran’s shoulders or maybe even somethin’ else entirely, but it’d be a damn nice thing to be able to do himself. He’s well aware he’s pretty hard to miss– bein’ six nine, ripped to high heaven, and a beacon of bright pastels tends to draw the eye to ya.

Still, though, now ain’t the time to think on what he can’t do– it’s the time to think ‘bout what he can, and what he can do is start wranglin’ these wooly little critters. Seiya gives the woods around ‘em one last look, makin’ sure there’s no other disturbances he’s gonna have to be aware of, before slowly startin’ to approach the sheep-thing as it peacefully grazes away, relying on the shadows of the trees for some form of cover. They don’t offer much, but it’s still somethin’, and that’s better than havin’ nothin’ at all– he’s confident this little critter would hightail it the hell outta here if it saw him rushin’ this way without the veil of any shadows.

He tries to keep his footfalls light, tries to channel the Prime Stealth that Cyran does so effortlessly, his every step calculated, careful, precise, certain not to draw the creature’s attention–

crunch

Shit.

As soon as Seiya steps on the stick on the ground, the little sheep-critter immediately perks to life, clearly startled, its whole tiny body on high alert, and he can see the way it’s geared up to get out, tense, ready to run–

And so, against his better judgement, he jumps out from where he still lingers in the shadows, throwin’ his arms around the sheep creature and carefully pinnin’ it against the ground, though he’s sure not to hurt it– he’ll hold it firmly, but he ain’t tryin’ to break the poor thing! Even if it does start flailin’ and makin’ startled noises and maybe gets in one really good kick, Seiya’s here to help this little guy get home, not obliterate it. [1]

He grunts softly as he wrestles it over his shoulder, a soft woof escapin’ his lips in the middle of it all, before he manages to get back to his feet, the sheep-thing positioned over his shoulder, one hand gently smoothin’ over its wool to try and soothe it. Hehe, success! Sure, he’s a bit scuffed up and maybe he’s got some dirt on him that wasn’t there before, but what’s victory without a little bit of metaphorical blood?

“Ay, Zarius?” he calls, keepin’ his tone relatively low in case they startle any more sheep. “You ‘round?”

---

[1] Bull's Strength

"Yes," Zarius replies without revealing his location. 

In retrospect, he should have given Seiya his potion of shadows so that his movements wouldn't have made any noise while sneaking up on the woolful. Oh well, there are plenty more woolfuls to find, so he'll remember to do that next time. 

"I do not think we will be able to do that for every creature we come across. Best if we came up with another strategy for the rest. For now, let us return that one to the shepherd. The fences should be fixed by now."

He starts heading back towards the pen while remaining silent and invisible. Course, if any woolfuls were nearby they would no doubt hear their herd mate struggling and baaing in protest. 

The pair return to the farmer's land and the pen where a frustrated dark elf is angrily trying to fix the fence. She swings a mallet right onto her thumb and shrieks out loud, drawing the attention of a large silver-scaled drake lying down nearby. 

"Gods! DAMMIT!" A slew of curses follow as she holds her thumb and assess it for damage just as the board she was nailing falls down. She looks like she's about to throw the hammer when Zarius appears out of invisibility near her. 

"You make for a poor carpenter," he says as he looks at how little progress she has made. 

She rolls her eyes and scoffs. "Shut up. I'm a racer, not a handyman." Looking over at Seiya as he approaches, she gives him once over before she focuses on the single woolful they have retrieved. A snarky tone leaks into her voice as she addresses Zarius again. "Looks like you're not having any better luck being a woolful wrangler. Had to go coerce someone else into doing your dirty work, huh?" She then waves the mallet at Seiya. "Oi, dog-guy, don't go making any deals with devils."

"Less talking and more fixing that fence. It does not matter how many we bring back if there is no secure place to put them."

"Then you fix the fence! Indra will be able to round up those puffballs easily from the sky."

Zarius puts a hand on his hip. "Need I remind you that it was your drake that spooked them into a stampede in the first place?"

"Not her fault they're prey and she's a predator. Most sane creatures run away from a storm drake."

He sighs and looks back over at Seiya. "Do you know anything about fixing fences?"

Huh. Seiya ain’t sure he’s ever gonna get used to these people and their stealth shenanigans– his ears twitch a little as Zarius speaks, tryin’ to place the source of the sound, but it’s hard to figure out just where the man is standin’ when he’s got the veil of invisibility on his side. It’s cool and all, and Seiya knew to expect it, but it sure does throw off his senses a little bit; for someone as aware of his surroundings as Seiya is, it’s kinda jarring to have that kind of disruption present, to have people capable of throwin’ each and every one of ‘em off with merely a flick of the wrist and a little bit of intent.

Like he said– he expected it. He just ain’t sure it’s somethin’ he’s ever gonna be able to train his body to get used to. He’s already kinda on high alert just knowin’ he can’t see someone he’s well aware is there.

“Oh, yeah,” he says anyway, keepin’ his tone light, though he ain’t sure where to look to address Zarius, so he opts to just kind of… hone in on where he most closely assumes the man to be and go from there. “I figure this ain’t workin’ more than once. But it did work, and that’s somethin’, yea?”

Seiya keeps his mouth shut as they walk back to the farmer’s land, turnin’ his focus to the creature over his shoulder– he ain’t much good for soothin’ things, usually, but he tries to keep the sheep-thing calm, pettin’ its wool in slow, non-threatenin’ cycles, tryin’ his best not to make it feel too trapped or anythin’. Still, it’s clear the little guy ain’t too fond of bein’ held up like this, and Seiya’s lookin’ forward to settin’ it free back inside its pen, but–

Seems like that’s gonna have to wait a little longer.

He watches with mild bemusement at the way Zarius and the strange dark elf girl standin’ at the fence talk, each word barbed, flung back and forth and back and forth again until it eventually turns back to him, with Zarius askin’ him, quite exasperatedly, if he knows anythin’ about fixin’ fences.

…Well.

“Yea, actually,” he says. “Had to fix holes in the wall and other stuff when I was younger– I know my way ‘round these things. Ain’t perfect or nothin’, but I could do a decent job if one of ya could hold the sheep– thing.”

Shael finally gives Seiya more of her attention as he mentions knowing how to fix things. "THANK YOU. Finally someone with some actually useful skills shows up."

Zarius lets out an exasperated sigh. "You do realize that that insinuates that you do not have actually useful skills either."

She ignores him and looks up Seiya. "Damn, you're tall and really buff."

It's a good thing that there isn't a tree right next to Zarius because he would be all too tempted to smack his head against it at this point. "Please stop."

She does, in fact, not stop, and continues to ignore the fellblood's pleas in favor of making some demands of Seiya. 

"Trade with me," she says, offering him the mallet. "I'll handle rounding up the floofs and you fix the fence. Maybe there'll be a biscuit in it for you or something," she shrugs. If the comment was meant as a joke or insult, it's hard to tell from her dry tone. 

Zarius would not protest if Seiya wanted to punt the young elf for the awful comment, he's had it to about here with her attitude. 

"Hey, jackass, hold the cotton ball with legs so dog-guy can get to work."

The fellblood bristles. What never. Why was she telling him what to do now? He's about to retort, but he pauses and thinks about it for a second more. Shael, infuriatingly so, had a point. She would be about to herd the woolfuls a lot more efficiently from the air than they could from the ground. And Seiya claimed to have carpentry experience, so making the most of his skills meant letting him repair the fence. That left just Zarius to hold onto the one woolful they already retrieved. 

He looks at the woolful Seiya is still hefting over his shoulder. The creature isn't too happy about its predicament, but it locks eyes with the fellblood with a look that could only be interpreted as "try me, bitch". 

Zarius pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. He lost this argument. He knows that. Rather than let his frustration manifest in a childish temper tantrum, he relents and lets Seiya and Shael do as they please. 

"Fine. I will keep an eye on that one," he says in a defeated tone, gesturing to the woolful. 

"Finally." Shael tosses the mallet to Seiya before running over to her drake and hopping up onto its back. The large draconic creature rises before leaping into the air and taking flight. And just like that, Shael and the drake disappear over the tree tops to go find the rest of the missing herd. 

There’s a looooong moment where somethin’ in Seiya’s demeanor shifts.

He’s pretty damn used to havin’ comments about what he is thrown his way, and he’s pretty sure he’s heard ‘em all– there’s the typical ones, the vicious ones, the ones that whisper ‘bout him bein’ carved from the image of a monster, born from the vestiges of a man whose only interests laid in slaughter. Then there’s the petty ones, the ridiculous jabs at his inugami lineage, at the fact that he’s descended from the dog spirits of the Crescent Isles and so clearly he’s gotta act like one, too; they’re a Solar a dozen. He’s dealt with ‘em his whole life thus far, and he’s gonna spend the rest of his years dealin’ with ‘em still.

Even so, he can’t help the way tension stirs at the back of his neck at the girl’s comment, his eye twitchin’ just so at the jab– it’s stupid. It’s so stupid, and it ain’t somethin’ he should get angry over, but he can feel just the quietest little spark of rage kindlin’ somewhere within him all the same, and somehow that just makes him angrier ‘cause he knows he’s better than this. He’s supposed to keep that ancient rage in check.

Still.

“You’ve got one hell of a mouth on you,” he says, tone a little darker than he means. “Best be careful. One day, you’re gonna say shit like that to the wrong man, and he ain’t gonna be as nice about it as I’m bein’ right now.”

It don’t make him feel much better, but it’s somethin’. It’s better than sockin’ her for a comment she probably didn’t even intend to have any weight behind it.

He sets the woolful down, bracin’ a hand against its back carefully until he’s sure Zarius can step in properly, before movin’ to take the mallet so he can get to work on repairin’ the fence. Now this– this’ll make him feel better; barbed comments and sharp claws don’t do anythin’ in the long term. Fixin’ somethin’ when he really just wants to tear somethin’ apart? That’s fruitful– that’s helpful. That’s the kind of thing he can let himself be proud of.

He handles the repairs with a surprisingly delicate hand, gentle in the way he reassembles the patterns, in how he holds the nails in place and hammers them back down– it’s hardly an expert job, of course, but it’s somethin’. He’s better with carvin’ wood than somethin’ quite like this, but it ain’t tooooo different, in the end. Shouldn’t take him too long, and it’s easy enough for him that he can still talk while he does it.

“...that girl an apprentice of yours or somethin’?”