Church Ch 8 (one foot in front of the other)

[warmskies]

As with most things, it starts out with a bit of idle curiosity - something that always does him in when he's good and far from the city. 

And Claude does so love when he has an excuse to be far away from that place. It allows him to see his friends, of course. It also allows him to see other people and cultures that wouldn't be caught anything but dead so far up north to where his particular branch of the church has firmly established itself. He adores the port towns and cities especially, even when they're not particularly huge ones. That is where all the interesting things happen, people from far off places dropping by all the time.

It starts because he arrives a day earlier. With some time to kill, well, it would be a waste if he just spent it lazing about in the cheap inn room he gets. He's checking in on the littler known stalls and shops, not wanting to get caught up in something too big, when he sees it: a voa in pretty purple clothing hurrying off down a different side alley, away from one tented up stall just far enough to be off the main market thoroughfare. They hold an excessively wrapped package close to their chest, and they're gone in the blink of an eye. Every single step just radiates embarrassment, and the need to not be caught. 

Fortunately for them, Claude has no interest in chasing after and interrogating some poor lost soul. Not yet, anyway, and only if he can't figure anything else out. There's still the most obvious solution... and it's not a bad route to choose, honestly. So he makes his way over to the tent and, with no shame, acting as though he's fully confident in what he's there for, he steps in.

And it becomes incredibly clear with a single step why this particular stall is shrouded with a tent.

There are sex toys. Small hammocks have been set up for maximum ease of packing and traveling. Upon those stretched out cloth shelves lay a variety of nicely made dildos in a variety of materials and a variety of shapes. Behind a small table is another voa, horns shaved short and their trimmed nails in the middle of sorting out money. He can't exactly tell if she's staring at him or not as he enters, but her fingers certainly pause in their task.

Claude doesn't let any of it phase him. At least, he doesn't let it show on his face. Instead, he smiles over at her and gives a polite nod in greeting before he starts to browse.

Sometimes, he really does have to appreciate the horniness of the world. Whether it's in humans, voa, or anything else, horniness certainly draws out the imagination and skill of others. That much is apparent as he looks over the many different kinds of dildos that are there on display. There's a variety of humans ones that probably hit the entire gauntlet of length and thickness, which is impressive, honestly. 

After all, one would naturally assume that most races would stick to sex toys most relevant to their own experiences, and similar to actual sex. Still, he seems to have come across quite the ambitious type... While a lot of effort and no doubt fascinating lines of inquiry have to go into making a variety like this, including humans, it means that she's guaranteed to get more customers as well since she's appealing to even broader groups.

That's fine and all... but while Claude can respect the effort and craftsmanship, he's far more interested in something else, and he quickly moves away from that particular selection to something a bit more relevant to a voa merchant. Some of the dildos for voa cocks are without the knot, and he takes them in, understanding of people who might not want to shove the whole knot in there but still like that particular shape. Something occurs to him, and he glances over to the merchant with a smile. "Is it alright if I handle the merchandise a little?" he asks, putting on his best pleasant and casual voice.

"If you scratch anything, you buy it," she says, simply and matter of fact. "If you're fine with that, then you can handle whatever you like." She doesn't ask how he knows Voali so well, or strike up conversation because of it. Well, merchants like that are at least easy to deal with. Claude certainly has no complaints, so he smiles at her and picks up one of the toys that he was looking at.

It's made really smoothly.... And a little cool to his touch, thanks to being made of glass. Whoever her artist is that makes such fine toys, he really wants to give his compliments in person. Now that he's become quite intimate with a voa penis himself, he can tell that this is surprisingly accurate. There even seems to be a slight indentation at the very tip. That, more than anything, makes him wonder just what kind of "research" the artist has done.

Still, while it's tempting and Claude has no fears of it breaking inside of him, it's no doubt quite expensive even on a sex toy scale, and he is perhaps a little worried about it breaking during his travels. Besides, it's missing one very important feature that he wouldn't go without. Honestly, it's kind of surprising how badly Claude wants a knot inside of him... but he is going to make it happen, one day. It's just a matter of how soon he can get Dimitri out...

So he moves on from that particular toy and glances over the ones that explicitly have knots - both to help keep the toy from slipping inside and being lost forever, and also simply just for pleasure. After all, if he likes it, then there's absolutely no doubt that other voa adore that feeling too.

And he has to admire the selection, forcefully done with all sorts of material. There's stone on the very bottom 'shelves' which make up the ground, while others are made of leather, and once again there's glass, or even wood that has been carefully lacquered or embedded with symbols to help avoid any splinters. They all have their advantages and disadvantages, and Claude is thinking carefully over them when he comes across something entirely different. 

Immediately, he whistles and holds the toy up. It's a completely different material than most anything he's felt in his life, firm but soft in texture, and it has a lot more bend than most of the other options without being like the leather toy. "This is rubber, isn't it?" he asks the merchant, starting up a conversation again whether she likes it or not. Still, this is something too good to just gloss over. "I didn't think you'd be able to get such a material for us here!"

Something like that might not be meant for a lot of little towns, much like how gas lamps are now being used in a variety of places, although it's been very slowly trickling over to the church's city. (With no small amount of help from Claude, he'll shamelessly admit, along with other things like better bathes being experimentally used in certain places.) He's heard it can be used for all sorts of things, especially as factories are starting to come into slow existence in some of the bigger cities... but a sex toy? That's a new one. And now that he's looking, there are a few other things that aren't wood or glass or anything else...

In a way that's almost kind of silly, Claude feels his heart swell at the ingenuity of people. Sex and food - the two categories they try to fit a new thing into at first glance. It says something about people as a whole, whether human or voa or otherwise. He's just not entirely sure what, only that it's incredibly charming to him.

And the merchant seems to be quite pleased too, swelling up in turn with pride. "I have quite the resources and connections at hand," she says, flicking her ponytail with her fingertips. "Every single item I have is nothing but the best quality, guaranteed. That includes some of the newer products, although those will cost substantially more, considering."

Trust a merchant to have profits on the line... Although in this case, Claude can't say this is particularly unwarranted. This sort of thing can't be cheap... These sources of hers have to be impressive. Claude makes a note to get more information out of her later on.

For now, he looks carefully over the new toys and taps his hip. Before, he would have gone with a simple wooden dildo, and hidden it away carefully. But any of these other ones... Ugh. It's so hard holding back, sometimes. His curiosity is going to be the death of him, and not in the way he ever imagined it would be.

It's the knowledge that Dimitri is going to be relying on his funds that holds Claude back from going too wild, and instead he decides on a toy that's the closest to being Dimitri's size that it can possibly get... although he suspects, going through his memories, that it's still nowhere near the size of the real deal. He approaches the merchant with a smile and the dildo in hand. "You know, you really arrived in town just when I needed you," he says, casual and cheerful as usual, like he knew she would be popping in. "I thought you wouldn't make it, actually."

Now that it's clear that he's going to be an actual paying customer instead of some random person who wandered in to gawk at fake penises, the merchant seems to cheer up a great deal, and she smiles at him. "Oh? Well, you don't have to worry about me showing up too late. I have a schedule to keep, and it wouldn't do to keep my regular and loyal customers in a lurch! Although you seem to be a new face..." And then, faking a sort of almost absentmindedness, she gives him the price. It's... not a particularly cheap one, but that hopefully means he's getting some quality, as she said.

There's no use complaining about it, and he'd rather not push in some haggling right away. The more he gets to know her... Going through his coin purse, Claude chuckles. "A friend of mine usually sends someone down on his behalf, but he wasn't going to be in town when you did.... It was bothering him quite a bit! So I told Lorenz that I would do him a favor- Oh." He laughs, feigning sheepishness. "Slip of the tongue. Keep it between us?" And he passes over the money.

It's debatable how much the merchant really cares about that sort of thing, idle gossip and the like, but she's more than happy to accept his coin. "It happens!" she says cheerfully. "I'll come around next year, although you may see me in the next town over in perhaps a months time. It doesn't do to keep still feet, in my line of work."

Oh, doesn't Claude know it. But he doesn't waste too much of her time with idle chatter. For merchants like this, who sell things that would get a disapproving stare by more than a few people, including those of the church, they can't afford to simply hang around and draw too much attention to themselves. Spending time with small talk counts as something that would draw attention, and she's already pretty bold with how she's displaying things in the first place... So he bids her a good day and, with his own purchase tucked away carefully in cloth of its own, Claude quickly makes his way back to the inn he's staying at.

It wasn't just for curiosity that he bought the toy in the first place, after all. If he wants to be properly prepared for Dimitri... He's going to have to practice.





There's never been much reason for Dimitri to stay awake during the daytime, with the sole exception being food.

Not counting Claude's contributions to his life, he normally gets two meals: one early in the morning, when the sky is only first starting to become lighter with the rays of the sun, and a second one in the late afternoon, apparently when the humans are preparing their own meals for the night. Dimitri had always thought the monastery to grow quieter, in the hours after he had been fed, but he had never quite known why until Claude had told him.

That's usually where Dimitri has timed his sleep schedule: going to sleep shortly after his morning meal, and rousing himself for his afternoon one, so long as nothing else interferes with either of those. Sometimes, when Claude has had reason to visit him a good few nights in a row, he takes short naps after his afternoon meal. No one seems to much mind, or care. Why would they? Executions are held at night, blood brilliant against a combination of magic light and the dawn sun as it drifts back out of sight. It's better for them if he is a nocturnal creature.

Sure, sometimes he stays awake a little longer... but only occasionally, at the sound of hard training or a loud argument that echoes from the open hallway. Unless his scum controllers truly go above and beyond their horrendous cruelty, they have little reason to bother him.

That is what he thinks the morning after Claude leaves, even as that one girl from before hesitates in the hallway leading out into the courtyard.

The only reason Dimitri pays her any mind is because the courtyard is often empty in the morning; movement draws his eye naturally. Before, when she had come with the controller Erik, he had thought little of her. If it had been up to him, he would have ignored both of them quite soundly, but that clearly not gone according to plan, and Erik had thus taken up all of his attention. In the aftermath, he'd still not cared, only wanting to finish his food in peace.

Now that he has time... Ignoring the lag of his mind as it yearns for sleep, he stares over at her nervous form and takes her in properly. In his memories of the incident, he thinks of her as a child standing alongside Erik. That... is actually not true. She is slight, and there is a roundness to her face, and she's a bit short... but she is likely a little older than he had initially guessed, especially with the beginnings of muscle starting to form along her arms, although he can only tell so much when she is so far away.

Maybe that is the reason he had dismissed her as younger, Dimitri muses while the girl in question mutters things to herself in Fodlish that he doesn't bother to listen to. From the moment she had first walked onto the courtyard with Erik, to when she had scurried away, her nervous and introverted nature had been the most notable thing about her. Such a mouse of a person...

Rapid footsteps snap him out of his own thoughts, and Dimitri refocuses on the girl - Dorothy. The tray in her hand is full of the same food that he always gets, without fail, every single day: stew that's long since grown cold, filled with food he used to not be able to even taste, and stale bread that he always has to soak so that it is easier to eat. He can see it even before she's anywhere near his cage, and he eyes it with no particular pleasure. Even though Claude has been away more than a few times since they reunited, made busy by the jobs he must do for the church, Dimitri always longs for his return particularly hard the first day of his latest absence. The food is a part of that.

Claude himself is most of it.

"He isn't even looking at me... Is this even okay? It's only one, so I thought it might be fine if it was for something like this..." Dimitri blinks, and his ears twitch. Now that she's come closer, it's impossible for him to wholly ignore her or her mutterings. A human probably wouldn't hear it, but the courtyard is quiet, and Dimitri's ears are sharp.

Frowning, he realizes this is an excellent opportunity. While he doesn't understand exactly what she's saying, hastily thinking back to the foreign words she just said in his best attempt to, that's exactly what he should be learning. If Claude cannot be here all the time, then he at least can listen to other people and figure out their words, can't he?

While he's thinking this over, Dorothy stops in front of him and stares. Dimitri stares back. Patiently, he waits for her to say something, since she's apparently so talkative despite her skittish demeanor. He's rewarded by this patience as she takes a breath, and speaks up again - but not just to herself. Instead, it... almost sounds like how Claude talks, which is to say, to Dimitri instead of merely at him.

"Um.... Good morning. I thought we could make a deal? If I... give you this sausage, then you won't do anything to me like you did to Controller Erik. We can... interact respectfully, like the hunter from before said. I'll make sure to give you space, too...."

Dimitri squints, carefully going over the various words in his mind. A lot of them he still has to carefully decipher, and that's going to take a long while... but he can still recognize some of them almost instantly, despite this handicap. In particular, he can recognize the food words. The second he realizes she's talking about a sausage, Dorothy adjusts her grip on the tray and holds up an actual sausage. No wonder he couldn't see it; it had been tucked behind the small loaf of bread.

He can roughly understand the first sentence she'd spoken... And not enough to make sense of the second, nor the fourth. It's just a little too much. But the third? He thinks he can understand that much, at least... Something about the sausage and Erik. Is she trying to make a deal? Dimitri cocks his head to the side. While he could speak, he doesn't particularly want to. Not a human outside of Claude. The last time he tried to do that....

Long ago as it might have been, he can still recall the way his body had ached from the beatings.

At least it doesn't seem like Dorothy needs much more than his attention. All she needs is even a scrap of it, something to show he's paying mind, and she reacts. At least, that's what Dimitri thinks is going through her head, because she hastily places the tray (sausage included) down on the floor and takes the long stick from her back so that she can push it down through the small slot that all his food comes in.

Well... Whether he's understood her correctly or not, he certainly has the sausage now. Dimitri isn't going to let something like that go to waste. Reaching over, he tugs the tray closer to him. Once he does so, Dorothy's shoulders immediately slump in relief, and she turns around to hurry back to the exact same spot she stood in when he met her that first day, when Claude spoke to her. Whatever makes her comfortable. It's none of Dimitri's business, quite frankly.

All he can do, and all that he is expected to do, is eat his food until his tray is completely cleared. That's it. Nothing more, and nothing less. That same phrasing could be used to describe the food he's given: nothing more and nothing less than what he needs to be powerful in the arena.

At least... That's true for most of the food on his tray. The sausage that Dorothy brought him is a different matter entirely, and Dimitri saves that for the very last. It's... not too different from some of the sausages Claude has brought him in the past. He realizes that when he takes his first bite, and the juices spread along his tongue.

Something in his heart pangs a little. This is the kind of taste... he associates with Claude. With seeing Claude, and hearing his voice, and breathing in his scent that's so full of greenery and sweat and comfort. He should be eating this... with Claude. Not alone, in the harsh light of the sun instead of under the welcoming moon and stars that he's come to actually care about for the first time in so many years.

It's stupid. It doesn't make sense. Saying that doesn't make Dimitri's heart ease in its aching, however. It also doesn't do anything for his stomach, and so he has to put his heart to rest in order to finish off his meal. If he doesn't, well.... Things become difficult when he refuses to eat, and he knows that the church keeps a close eye on things such as this. He's not sure if Dorothy would let slip such a thing when he's pretty sure the sausage was her idea instead of someone else's... but better safe than sorry.

When he finishes, curling up a short distance away from the tray, Dorothy once again trots over. The long hooked stick is put to use, tugging the tray back to her side of the bars. Ears twitching, he can hear a bit of hesitance in her footsteps... but, as with most controllers or their apprentices, he only keeps his back turned to her. There's nothing else he can contribute anyway.

Still, it's a strange sort of relief when he finally hears her steps heading off towards the hallway again, where their frantic nature echoes against the stone. He supposes he'll have to deal with her often, now, if she's even being sent to feed him so that she can adjust to his presence... Well. Beyond that, he supposes it's not much his problem.

Dimitri closes his eye, and drifts off to sleep.

As the days pass, Dimitri starts to learn more about Dorothy whether he likes it or not. She is sent to feed him for each of his meals in the day, no doubt to build her resilience to the appearance of a monster such as himself. If she is to be a controller one day, like Claude told him, then she cannot afford to flinch and scurry away whenever he so much as looks at her. With that in mind, he takes note of her actions, her words, and does his best to learn from all of it.

Language is the easiest thing to learn from Dorothy. For whatever reason, she talks often - to him sometimes when she brings the tray of food, and no one else is about. More oftentimes she seems to speak to no one in particular. If there's people in the courtyard, she doesn't even do that much.

If Dimitri had to guess, he supposes it's because she's been reprimanded in the past about it.... or something along those lines. However, it works for his purposes perfectly; why should he complain at all her muttering and murmuring? If anything, he goes even quieter when she shows up with his food, so that he can listen to her words better in order to figure them out later on.

He's not doing anything special. Frankly, he's hardly paying her any mind. And yet as the days pass, the tension in her shoulders seems to ease away, and her brow doesn't become so tightly wound. She watches him eat, murmuring things to herself that Dimitri can only partially understand, and walks a little less frantically when she goes to retrieve his tray. A great many thoughts seem to churn behind those eyes of hers, although they are things that he knows nothing about. That is the nature of being individuals: there is always a certain degree of mystery that separates people from one another as much as their physical bodies.

And then, eventually, she stops hanging back at all.





Claude's very first lesson when he uses his new toy is that he cannot walk or ride for shit the immediate day after. At least, if he were a sensible person, and one who had more options available to him, he would not.

Claude thought he could handle it. He's had sex before, after all - his own personal little bit of rebellion against the church and that ultimately hurts no one despite what some of the higher ups preach. (Claude knows better than to think a lot of them even remotely believe a lot of it.) That includes the ache of rough sex, or taking in something large.

But knots... Knots are something else entirely, even if they're only fake things instead or the real deal. Knots stretch him in a way he's never been stretched before, fill him up and hit his prostate enough to make him see stars.

Needless to say.... At the time, it had felt unbelievable. Claude can't bring himself to regret it completely.

Just, you know. Maybe a little, at the very least.

"Wyvern, why am I like this," he groans to his horse, slumped oddly in his seat on the church wagon. Theoretically, he's helping guide it down the road.

It's really not advisable to ride this way, he knows that. There are bumps in the road that might make him fall off right in front of the cart wheels, and he could be jumped by petty thieves or hungry wolves that he needs to pay attention to... And yet, despite all that, the concept of sitting upright, on his own poor abused ass, makes Claude just want to die.

Wyvern looks back at him without pity, because obviously a horse doesn't need to concern itself with whatever nonsense humans get up to. Maybe it's just a little bit of Claude projecting, but the horse almost seems amused at his suffering.

Groaning, Claude tries to adjust his position, and winces a bit. He... has a long road ahead of him. A part of him wonders if he can get away with simply not going back to the city for a day or two, stay in the inn he'd been at before. Maybe blame it on some sort of random difficulty that often pops up for travelers on the road.

In the end... He decides not to do that. He continues on, guiding the horses down the roads with little fuss. Still, if there is one good thing to all of this, it's that he has to occasionally stop and set up camp. Not all towns or villages can be reached within a simple day's ride, after all.

So when it starts to become dark enough yet still with enough light, Claude guides the wagon to the side carefully out of sight and sets up camp. It takes a bit of time, so that he can be confident in where they're resting for the night, and a lot of that time takes into account his limping.... but Claude has experience. It's hardly more trouble than it usually is.

Wyvern and the other horse, the one that belongs to the church instead of him, seem content to settle in as well. As he waits for his dinner to roast over the fire, food bought from the town instead of hunted by himself, Claude looks over them thoughtfully.

It's something he's been thinking about for a while... but he really does need to get a horse for Dimitri soon. While the two of them could make their way on foot, that would take far too long. They can't afford that kind of thing when they're immediately on the run from the church. They'll need to move as quickly as possible to get off of those lands.

The problem, of course, is that he's going to need a very specific kind of horse in order for Dimitri to ride it. There's no way that it can be a slender breed of any sort, not with how big Dimitri himself is. Additionally, he'll need a horse that's used to the presence of a voa. They're a large people, with the kind of features that would send the average horse into a nervous state: sharp teeth, enormous size, and sharp claws. Everything about them screams predator, which is kind of funny when one knows about their cultural reputation as philosophers and all around nerds.

That means he's going to have to either find a reputable breeder or seller that's taken the time to train horses around voa so that they're not such an unknown, which is easier said than done. A lot of human sellers might say that sort of thing simply to make a deal - all's fair in capitalism after all. So it would be best if he could find a voa breeder... which is also easier said than done. So far, he hasn't found anyone who fits the bill just yet...

With only so much time, Claude stretches out alongside his campfire for light and warmth both as he drags his pack over to himself. His map is one of the most detailed in the land without going to the kind of professionals who charge an arm and a leg; that much he can boast. Tracing his fingers over the map, Claude considers where he's gone, and where he'll be going in the future.

All he needs to do is make excuses for any other stop he makes... And so long as his timing is good, he has confidence in his ability to do his job on time. Even if he doesn't, a single slip up here or there shouldn't matter much. He can't rely on his so far good reputation to act out too much.

He's not a priest.

After a bit of thinking, mentally crossing out towns he's already been in and considering towns he knows or are likely to have a decent voa population, Claude makes a couple of choices. He can't veer too much off the path, but this... should be good enough.

It's a good activity, one that lets him waste plenty of the night away before his eyelids begin to droop with exhaustion. Even if they're not the most impressive things in the world, he has blankets that do a fine job of letting him sleep warmly and soundly. They'll do an equally fine job of dealing with his poor roughed up ass.

So with all of that in consideration... He should be able to fall asleep pretty quickly. That's the logical progression of things. And yet as he sits there, almost halfway as warm as he would prefer in any setting, sleep doesn't come to Claude's mind so quickly. Instead, he's left laying there in the wagon, just barely able to see the stars that shine high above.

He doesn't regret buying that toy from the merchant, in any way whatsoever. He doesn't feel bad about getting it even with whatever is now between him and Dimitri, and he's accepted the state of his ass that has required him to ride so gingerly this entire time. But... Something tentative still winds around his heart regardless, and he lets out a puff of air. This far south and in this weather, it doesn't become a cloud of fog, not yet. He can at least be thankful for that even if his heart is acting like this.

Honestly... A part of him wonders if he's jumped the bow, just a little. Him and Dimitri have been growing closer all this time, and he's glad for that. He really is. It's a sign that Dimitri can allow himself to grow closer to other people still, that he can be happy. Claude would have accepted it from anyone, of course, it's just that he's the only person that he knows of who bothers to reach out to Dimitri. But... maybe that's the issue.

When he'd bought that toy, it had been with the assumption that he and Dimitri would have sex with one another inevitably - sometime after Claude had freed Dimitri and with no better idea of the time than that. But.... He doesn't know that for certain.

Claude has to admit that. Dimitri has grown to like him, they've jerked each other off - but that's not a guarantee of anything in the future. Not even remotely. There's... a non-zero chance that Dimitri decides he doesn't have that kind of interest in Claude. He could like someone else, once he gets a chance to meet other people who see him as an individual instead of a weapon. Maybe he doesn't like other people at all, and simply was overwhelmed by his first sexual encounter.

There's just... Claude squeezes his eyes shut, brow furrowed tight. There's a lot that could change, once Dimitri is free. He's known that for a while, he really has. It is, arguably, a good thing. It's absolutely a good thing. Dimitri deserves to have that choice, the ability, the freedom, to talk to whoever he likes, and not expect immediate punishment as a result. He thought he was prepared for that... It's never hurt this much before.

Then again, he'd never really thought that he'd have a chance before.

Claude wipes his hand over his face, fingers catching at his skin a little. He's being stupid, and, if he's not being stupid, then he's being selfish. Dimitri deserves so much to make up for what is a lifetime of pain and suffering and being used like nothing more than a weapon. He can't hold his old friend back just because he'd come to six simple words - both when Dimitri had been holding him close, claws on his neck, hand on his cock, and when Claude had tested the toy not that long ago on himself, thinking of Dimitri alone.

It's impossible for him to say when he gets to sleep, only that it claims him eventually. He wakes up feeling marginally better in certain lower areas of his anatomy. Riding on the wagon is still not exactly a pleasant experience, but it's a lot more manageable than the day before. The roads and sky alike are clear. His horses seem in perfectly good shape.

Claude lets little things like that comfort him, all the way to the next town he stops in for a short while. There's a small voa population here as well, although they're well within the minority in terms of population size... but they seem to get along well enough with the rest of the town, something he observes as he's letting the horses take a rest and get a drink.

For the most part, the fur colors seem the same: a sort of pale brown that almost looks gray if viewed in the light one way or the other. It's the same for every single one he happens to spot, as he gets food he can't hunt for this stretch of his journey or talks with the locals. Maybe it was a small group from a particular island in Devan-Voa that first came here some time ago, and the color has been predominant ever since. Things like this often have a story behind them, even if it's just a series of them, interconnected and leading up to this present now.

It's when he's on the outskirts of town, pausing only to buy a small bag of miscellaneous nuts from some children who'd gone scavenging in the forest early in the morning, that he sees something that makes him think of the previous night's thoughts. It's a pair of voa, hornless, holding each other's hands, shoulders bumping, and hurrying back into the town's borders. The children teasingly yell at them, the usual "ooOOH THEY WERE KISSING" sort of thing that children seem to love teasing their elder peers about. The pair yell back at them to shush... but they don't let go of each other's hands.

Claude smiles, and he chuckles, and he thinks about it as he returns to the road again where it's only him and the horses once again. That might be another consideration for when he breaks Dimitri free... He might not want to even look at humans for a long time, because of what they did to him. Claude can understand that, even if he still hopes that he can at least keep Dimtiri from continuing a cycle of harm against anyone else. If he wants to go back to his homeland, to live amongst other voa... He might fall in love with another voa instead.

What would be worse, he wonders: to be cut off from Dimitri completely, or still allowed as his friend, but while watching him fall in love with another person?

I want you. All of you.

No one else has ever said that before. No one has accepted every little bit of him, wanted every little bit of them. How could they have even gotten the chance to know? Claude knows that he's never let it be there on the table. With his kind of life... That would be far too risky. He has secrets upon secrets... even if they're only things he's simply never spoken about instead of making them an outright lie. The only person he's ever been honest with... That's Dimitri.

But he's not entitled to that. Claude reminds himself of that, that he'll step to the side if that's what Dimitri needs to be happy. He has a lot of plans, and backup plans to each of those plans. Who knows? Maybe it would be better for Dimitri if Claude stepped away. The road he plans on traversing - the wider road of life and not the road he guides his horses along right now - is one that's not going to be easy. Dragging Dimitri into that... it could be too much.

Claude tries to tell himself all of this... even if his heart aches for the idea that Dimitri could stay with him.






The day that Dorothy stops running off while he eats, instead opting to stand there right before his cage, all Dimitri can bother to do is raise a brow at her. It's a strange turn of events, certainly. There's no reason, as far as he can tell, that would have her want to be so close to a demon, a monster. Yet there she stands, her hands clasped in front of her as she waits, and her lips sucked in.

Well. She is by far the least annoying so far of those who come to feed him, besides people sent for the task as a punishment. Dimitri ignores her and eats the usual stew. Once again, as is now becoming standard, there is a small sausage alongside the bread. It's honestly a bit strange, that she would keep it up for so long... but perhaps that is a part of the arrangement that she has so one-sidedly made. Or is it really that one sided when he hasn't bothered to correct her?

Maybe it's an arrangement he's one sidedly decided on, actually. As he eats, Dorothy continues to murmur to herself. After a good while now of this happening between them, he's learned to recognize what she's talking about, even when he doesn't entirely understand all the words. There are three different ways she speaks: when she's talking purely to herself, when she's narrating what he's doing (which may be the same as the first), and when she's talking directly to him.

Dimitri doesn't understand why she does it... but it works out for him and so he doesn't stop her habit, or whatever changes she's decided to undertake. So he listens, and he eats, and he places his bowl down on the tray when he's done. With how close she is, there's no need to toss it or make a fuss. She really is a skittish type, however... She almost seems to bloom in relief from the lack of sharp noise, and takes the tray back quickly.

The next day, and she does very much the same. There's the sausage, and there's her daring to stay near to his cage. Is this going to be a new part of their routine as well? Is this something she's been told to do as a part of her executioner training, or something that she decided to do for herself? Dimitri isn't entirely sure. All he does is pick up his bread again, and listen to her.

"Oh good... He's eating again. The sausage might have been a good idea after all...? I could only copy what the guards do with some of their hounds... I guess I'm only good for that much. At least it's working. Maybe if that hunter from before will come back. If I could ask him some questions... but maybe he's far too busy... No, he must be far too busy for someone as plain as me who's not even a proper adult..."

Dimitri once again stores all the strange words he does not know inside of his head. In the midst of remembering them, however, he can't help but perk up. For all his inexperience, after all, there are still some words he understands... and he knows that Claude is a hunter, along with many other things. She has to be talking about him, then... Because who else that is a hunter would she be talking about?

It is an action that does not wholly go unnoticed, and Dorothy stares at him. "Do you remember him?" she asks hesitantly, clearly not expecting an actual answer. Dimitri hasn't bothered to answer her before, after all, whether in Fodlish or in Voali. Yet that has been how these things have gone on for the two of them ever since Dorothy was assigned as the person to feed him regularly, and she doesn't seem to expect much, as evidenced by the way she continues on. "He said his name was Claude... I've listened to the elder controllers talk about him before. Controller Narcian seems to like him a bit... I think that's why Controller Erik has been so wary about complaining about him before."

Erik and Narcian... Too names that are as unpleasant as they are familiar. Dimitri snorts, hoping his disdain is thick enough in the sound for there to be no doubt on his feelings regarding them, and most of their ilk. Erik has always been amongst the worst of them all, in his opinion, too much a coward that finds comfort in lording power over someone else. Yet that doesn't mean he's oblivious to how Narcian is the one often directing those beneath him... and who doesn't stop any of the abuse leveled his way. It is unfortunate that killing any of them would ruin his plans to get someone more important.

Dorothy pauses at his response, nervously looking over her shoulder to the open hallway as though checking to make sure that he wasn't overheard. He can't see why she would be bothered; this is by far not the first time that he's ever expressed disdain for his handlers. It's not even the worst he's been able to do, with Erik as a testament to that. Dimitri is content to chalk it up to her constant nerves and shyness, until she looks back to him with an uncertain twist of her lips.

"The priests.... say that I should respect those above me, completely and utterly... With the kind of person I am, I thought that made sense... It's better for me to listen to people who know more than I do, and I would say that's a lot. But when Claude talked about respecting animals and other things... That made sense. It made more sense and wasn't as frightening as what Controller Erik would tell me. I wonder if maybe that means I'm better suited to be a hunter..."

She's saying a lot of things he doesn't understand again... Well. That's frustrating. Dimitri wonders if he can write them out phonetically in some abandoned corner of his cage. At this rate, the list of words she says is starting to become more than he can remember, and thus more than he can repeat to Claude later on so that he can learn them. Granted, some might still come into his cage for various reasons... but he doesn't think any of them would think of Voali as anything more than simple scribbles in the dirt that mean nothing.

For the time being, Dimitri focuses on what he does understand, which is only so much. She's talking about herself as a person - he doesn't know what in particular - and that she listens to people, he thinks. And she mentions Claude... and animals. And hunting. Dimitri finally remembers to pull his stale bread out from the stew, and tears off a bite for himself.

Is she more interested in that? It's what he can assume, although there's still plenty of a chance for him to be wrong there. He understands so little of what she's actually said. He doesn't even know what she's getting out of this, either... He can't give advice, and wouldn't even if he could. Then again, maybe he really is simply something for her to speak at for her own peace of mind...

He can't understand her properly, and she can't understand him at all, so she continues. "I've hardly ever gone outside the city halls.... So I don't know if I would do well when it comes to hunting. My family used to have a farm where we raised animals - chickens and sheep, mostly. But the chickens kept disappearing... I think my uncle runs it now. They thought me working for the church would help take some of the costs off. I wonder... They're going to be disappointed when it turns out that... I'm more interested in hunting, maybe... Well, interest only means so much..."

She goes on like that for quite some time, talking about all manner of things. Dimitri likes it when she talks about animals and food the most, which are two of the things he knows the most about thanks to Claude. By the time he's finished, the tension in her shoulders seems to have dissipated completely, or at least something close to it, and she tugs his tray back again with the pole.

From that day onwards, she does the same thing, stands in the same place so close to his cell, and she talks to him more than simply with him overhearing. Dimitri is still fairly certain that it's simply because he's only a beast, that she has no one and nothing else to talk to about these sorts of things.

It's nothing at all like how Claude talks with him, so careful to make sure he's understood and imparting more knowledge upon Dimitri so that he can understand a world he'll never see. Still, Dimitri... can't say it's bed.

Even if it's not exactly the same, it's similar enough and fills up the otherwise quiet of the courtyard.

Considering the closeness of Dimitri's own mealtimes to that of the humans (if Claude is to be believed), the courtyard doesn't often have many people in it when Dorothy comes with his food. Yet there are still the occasional moments where this regular emptiness is disrupted.

During times like those... Dorothy doesn't say a word, simply stands there right before his cage with her shoulders hunched up to her ears. From what Dimitri observes, most don't bother her during these times... or, rather, maybe her entire being is set on projecting an image of someone doing their best to not be bothered in the first place, someone trying to disappear into the air.

If only Dimitri could do the same, although he knows it's impossible. A creature like him, taller than all of those humans and with bright fur that catches light... It would never happen.

Sometimes those who train stay for the whole time he eats, which only keeps Dorothy standing stiff and awkward before his cage. Times like those, Dimitri finishes quickly, because her anxiety aggravates him as well, and so it's better to see her scurry off in a panic. Fortunately for both of them, that rarely ever happens. More often then not, it's someone who comes to train before the sun ever graces the skies, and they forget the time before hurrying off to get their breakfast upon realization.

If she acts like this around other members of the church, who should be her allies... Dimitri isn't sure if such things say more about her or this place. Frankly, he never sees her pass through the hallway on the opposite side of the courtyard accompanied by anyone else her age, or that she speaks fondly to. Even Dimitri has to admit that, nowadays, he has Claude - a person he can no longer deny that is close to him and that he treasures a great deal, more than his own pathetic life. Does this girl really have no one....?

Fortunately, it turns out that he's simply unaware of the wider world beyond his cage. The girl, Dorothy, has a life of her own besides what Dimitri thinks might be insecurities, although his translation of her words is far from perfect.

He learns this one day as she slides him his meal while her gaze is elsewhere, dazed and lost in her own head. When Dimitri begins to make sound, moving the things around on his try, grabbing food, she snaps out of it.

"I wonder if Lady Clarine would like to come and see him..." Talking to herself again instead of him. It's been a while since she'd indulged that particular aspect of her habit, and Dimitri can't help but be curious at the change. Has something, in turn, changed beyond his cage? Oblivious to his own thoughts, Dorothy carries on muttering. "Even though she says a lot of things on how a person should conduct themselves... Is it alright if it applies to a demon as well? No, wait... That's not what they call themselves... Isn't it Voa? Does that matter? If someone said I wasn't Dorothy, I don't think I would like that either...."

Names, and words, and so many things he doesn't know... but Dimitri immediately jolts upright when she says the name of his people in her mutterings, bread almost dropping from his claws.

Dorothy jolts, too. For a moment, they only stare at each other, and Dimtiri flicks his ears back in wariness. He still doesn't want to say anything explicit to her - doesn't want to say anything at all. But... She had something about 'Voa'. Is she repeating something Claude has said before? Best he can, Dimitri digs through his memories, and tries to untangle meaning from sound.

Dorothy patiently waits, maybe hoping to hear words from him in turn. When he doesn't provide any such thing, she lets out a slow breath. "So he definitely reacted to that... Is that a good thing? The priest wouldn't like it if I were to use it, but maybe..." Her thoughts turn inwards again for a moment, a tide that ebbs and flows so patiently. Dimitri can remember when he used to be able to see the ocean every morning, he and his friends going to see if anything interesting had washed up upon the beach... Dorothy's voice rouses him from memories that are simultaneously faded but brighter, all the brighter from the recent changes in his life. "Maybe I should ask Lady Clarine... Oh. Do you... know her...?"

Out of those words... One is a name, he thinks. Claude has mentioned various names to him while he's told him about things happening in the church, and what things he in particular does. Dimitri likes to think that he's slowly started to learn the difference in what sounds like a name and what doesn't... but it's never been something that's really come up before. Claude can talk to him in Voali, after all, and that helps distinguish them apart from the other words.

Still, that doesn't help him really understand much else, like why Dorothy is asking him about this... Lady Clarine. Dimitri raises his bowl up to his mouth and slurps at it, eye narrowed suspiciously at her.

Maybe Dorothy realizes there's an issue here as well, because she pauses. "No, he won't understand... I don't think Lady Clarine introduced herself to him properly..." She looks up at Dimitri again - or down, rather. "She... She had long hair she had pulled back in a ponytail, like this-" Dorothy sweeps her hands back along her short bobbed hair, as though sweeping back much longer strands, and clenches back on the empty hair along the back of her head. "And.... It's a beautiful golden color, just like your fur."

Ah. This he understands a bit better. When he was a child, and Claude was as well, that was one of the first things the two of them taught one another. Claude had dark brown hair, with a single braid. In turn, Dimitri's fur is a beautiful yellow.... or gold, as Claude sometimes called it. So for a human with that kind of hair, pulled back in the way Dorothy is describing to him...

He understands what she means, but he still doesn't bother to answer. Instead, after pausing in his meal to listen, Dimitri takes another swallow of his cold stew, and grabs what's left of the bread again. It doesn't really matter one way or the other if he understands or not... and might be more dangerous if he shows he does. That seems to work out for Dorothy as well... Maybe even she doesn't know what she would do if he responded back to her. All she does is keep her hands held back behind her head a moment longer before she slowly lowers them.

"Anyway... She really is a good and kind person. She's been trying to help me for a while now, since we first met after you and Controller Erik got treated. Sometimes I think... I can speak to her about things I'm not certain about. She says I need more confidence... and to not be so worried about how I look compared to others. But it's difficult..."

So she's been.... helpful since that incident where Dimitri bashed the controller's face in. Dimitri considers that, chewing on his sausage - the last portion of his meal. If she's bringing this Lady Clarine up so much, he hopes that doesn't mean he'll have to deal with even more people around his cage... He can only handle so many humans crowding him at a time, frankly, and he doesn't want a crowd about him every time he eats. Honestly, there's only one person that he really wants to see, more than anything...

As though he's actually been listened to by the guiding hand of fate, for once in his life, he gets good news on that front the very next day, even though it has Dorothy's shoulders slumping. "The elder controllers have said I have to clean a bunch of rooms all day tomorrow... I wish I had the confidence or ability to say no to them... I overheard from the person in charge of the supply storage that Claude is coming back...!"

And Dimitri feels his heart swell with an eager hope.






While he only has a day to recuperate from his current long journey, Claude doesn't allow his feet to rest on the ground beneath him. Instead, he dares to take a small risk, and goes to visit Dimitri in the one night he's staying in the city. It can't be for as long as he'd like... He does have to get some proper sleep before he sets off on the road again for yet another task of the church's. Still, he can spare, if nothing else, a few minutes.

It's a decision he doesn't regret. Dimitri is already eagerly pacing about his cell by the time he sneaks into the courtyard, and he perks up when Claude makes himself known.

Just like that, all the fears and indecision and uncertainty he'd been feeling before seem to melt away. How could they still stand with the way Dimitri leans towards him so eagerly, the relief that washes over those broad shoulders when Claude still reaches out for him as always? Maybe... He wasn't the only one worried about how different their relationship could be. How different it is, now.

In the short amount of time that he's been gone, Dimitri has picked up a lot of Fodlish words. In fact, he's apparently picked up so many words that he has difficulty recalling them all as he speaks to Claude, although he does his absolute best.

As he listens to Dimitri speak to him, clumsily repeating words that he's only heard other people speak... Claude can't help the pride that wells up in his chest, second only to the immense fondness that warms his heart. Only a few months ago... and Dimitri would never have spoken to him so energetically, so hopefully. All it took was reaching out....

Claude chuckles quietly to himself in the midst of their lessons, and all Dimitri can do is blink at him in confusion. The two of them... really are so desperate for a bit of contact, for the understanding of another person.

There's no time for him to be amused and aching at how much him and Dimitri are alike, in the ways that they've been hurt. With so many words to impart upon Dimitri, he has to go through them quickly, and hope that Dimitri remembers the lesson. He tells him that an "idea" is a more focused and fleshed out "thought", and he tells him that "proper" is close to "suitable", and one and on. He ends up running just a little late past how he had planned to stay... but it's worth it when he sees Dimitri listening so intently, and echoing everything he says.

If only he could stay longer... but Claude knows he's tempting fate as it is. So he tells Dimitri he has to go, grasps his hand again, and then he slips away. Still, he keeps the moment tucked away in his chest, and lets it comfort him the next morning when he sets off again.

Maybe going to visit Dimitri despite the time constraints was a kind of blessing, or simply good luck. On his journey away from the church, he takes the time for a small sidejourney so that he can check in on another town that apparently has a small voa population residing there. Someone from one of his earlier stops had said the horses raised here don't fear wolves or bears or far worse things... and Claude is delighted to find that a voa is the reason for that, living a quiet life just on the edge between plains and mountains.

"Raising horses is quite the change of pace, from what I know of other voa," Claude says as she leads him back to the large field she keeps so many of her horses at. "Although I hope that isn't offensive to say. I suppose I've just met most who like the open sea... Almyra is the country with a reputation for horseback riding."

She looks back at him with a calm, patient smile. With pale fur and black markings that almost seem to shine purple in the light, she makes quite the impression, and her long horns remind him of twisting winds with the way they curl in on each other while still going straight in a point. "Well, I became interested in seeing how people could ride them so skillfully when I was young, and fortunate enough to go on a job with my parents, before they passed. I became interested all on my own... And then my younger sisters became obsessed. One thing lead to another."

"And that thing lead to an entirely different thing..." Claude chuckles. "I think I can understand that." That feels like more than a little bit of his own life, honestly... Trying to find a place to hide and be by himself lead him to Dimitri. So when he'd allowed himself to stay in the city, been convinced to watch an execution and seen his old friend down there...

Well, here he is again, coming to a stop at the edge of a field that has quite the impressive set of stables not that far off - a benefit of living so close to mountains where trees are plentiful despite the wide expanse of plain that he's just left.

There are more than a few slender and speedy breeds he can see, even at a distance, content to eat grass or harass one another in the spirit of playfulness. While he can only make guesses for now, Claude feels pretty confident that they're wonderful horses. No doubt they would be amazing for him if he wasn't already delighted with Wyvern's own pedigree, and how his four legged companion has done well by him for as long as he's kept him... Not to mention that he's not here shopping for himself.

No, he's looking for something with a big more weight to it, and so he lets his gaze wander a bit more. Sure enough, while there are those lovely and speedy breeds, there are much bigger beasts of burden here as well. He's delighted to find that they're enormous creatures. Even at a far enough distance, he can tell that a lot of them are taller than he is. Claude would never say he's the tallest man in the world, far from it, but he always liked to assume he held a rather respectable height.

Yet besides those enormous horses out in the fields, or drinking from their watering trays, he may as well be a child again. Claude gives a low whistle, watching as one of the larger horses passes by a more slender cousin. It's like watching a naval ship pass by a little fishing boat. "Seeing them, even from a distance like this, really does drive it home what kind of horses do best with voa, even if they aren't fast. Still, they're no doubt faster than walking everywhere."

"It's a dream of mine and my husband's for us to raise horses that are both big and fast." Leaning against the tall fence meant for both Voa and the enormous horses in the field, the breeder, Uno as she'd introduced herself as a silly nickname picked up from the locals, gives a small out towards the fields. "I have no doubt that is going to be a difficult task... but I do like it here, and I like raising the horses into fine steeds. It allows me time with my family as well."

What a soft and content life... Claude almost wishes he could have something similar for himself, and for Dimitri as well. His life has never been anything less than constant movement, eternal striving towards something better. He can't just sit still while there's passion burning at his feet and people suffering in the world. If him and Dimitri could simply live contentedly in some little town, doing whatever they liked...

Well. First things first. Before that, he has to get Dimitri out of the church's grasp. And before that... "I heard from someone else that these horses don't shy even in the face of mountain lions," he says conversationally. "I'm going to take it that means that they're completely used to voa?"

"That's right. My husband, myself, or my sisters have been around every single one of these horses ever since they were first born. They're used to us... Although unfortunately, for some of the larger ones, that means they're more used to voa than they are to humans."

That would be a problem for anyone else, quite possibly. Claude only smiles. "Oh yeah? Let me see... If I had to guess, I would say it's because voa like you or anyone else who drops by this town are the ones who use them the most, right?"

Uno sighs with a fond smile on her face. "That's right. For the people in town, we often make plans ahead of time so that they can get used to some of the foals, and vice versa... but those are usually the smaller breeds, with only a couple of the draft horses dealing with others. Voa traders sometimes come to us, or we take a few of our younger horses to town on certain days, so they're often the ones we mainly sell to. If you want, I can introduce you to some of our fastest horses..." Her smile turns to him, now. "If the one you rode into town is any indication... You seem like the kind of person who prefers the fastest steed."

Faintly, he wonders if she can somehow pick up on his Almyran ancestry, or if it's just a comment about his personality, or Wyvern being the kind of horse that plays around, or any other million little things. He doesn't dwell on it too much; there's no reason to. Instead, he nods to where there's a small group of big horses. "Actually, I was thinking of something a bit bigger. Could you walk me through their personalities?"

Uno doesn't question why he wants a larger horse. She merely obliges him, guiding him along the fence as she points out the different individual horses. Even for as large as they all are, each one clearly has its own distinct personality, and she's just as clearly gotten to know the details of every one. Some of them are as bright and playful as his own Wyvern. Others, despite their size, are a lot more shy and skittish, eyeing him uncertainly despite the fact that Claude is pretty sure he's a lot less frightening than a bear.

They're all nice horses despite this, of course... but they're not quite what he's looking for. This is going to be Dimitri's first horse, after all. If one is too playful and energetic, he might not be able to get a handle on it. Those that are too shy or skittish may lead to problems when he's learning to ride. No, he needs something a lot more... sturdy. Someone quiet and dependable, who won't mind the awkwardness of a first time rider.

When he tells Uno that he's looking for this kind of horse, she calls over to one of her younger sisters - one of the only who's stuck around, since the youngest is off galavanting on her own steed. With dark fur that shines a bit more blue than purple, she's quite a sight as she makes her way out into the horse's field. Her goal is one tree that's grown tall and wide.

Claude hadn't realized it before, but there's one more horse that's been calmly spending his day there in the shade. The sister manages to get a rope around him, but it almost doesn't seem necessary. The horse follows her along into the sun patiently, where his pitch black coat makes him seem like a living shadow.

The horse doesn't have a problem with the sister, and leans his head down so that Uno can pet him indulgently. Yet when Claude steps forward, he looks down at him with what almost looks like disdain, or perhaps distaste. Claude has gotten that look plenty of times in his life before, but he's amused to say that this is the first time a horse has ever looked at him like that. It's amazing how expressive creatures can be with their eyes and body posture alone, he has to admit.

"He's still relatively young, compared to some of the other horses we have here," Uno explains, patting the horse's snout to reward him for staying in place, "but he is full grown. However, he's much more used to my family than the humans in town.... He might be a little difficult for you at first, since he'll need a lot of time to get used to you. I'm not sure how well your friend might fare... but he's been a fine horse for my daughter to practice her own riding. In that regard, he's excellent."

A horse that's wary of humans.... Well, that seems like the perfect match, then. Claude finds himself smiling a little more before he can stop himself. "That's fine," he reassures Uno. "I have experience with difficult horses. I'm sure he'll do great, once we get used to one another."

Fortunately, the good thing is that the big guy is more patient and stubbornly steady than he is rowdy and prone to outbursts. That doesn't make it any less of a problem when he digs his hooves in when Claude tries to lead him along... Uno's younger sister has to help until Claude can have him get used to Wyvern, who is more than glad for the company. Claude stays the night in the little town, letting the two adjust to each other's presence.

It's done for more than simply the two of them getting along, although that is the most important thing. Rather, when Claude prepares to leave for the next day, Wyvern's energetic and nosy bossiness helps get their new friend moving. Sure, a human may be something to view with wariness and stubbornness, but a fellow horse? That's apparently fine. And since Wyvern listens to him...

When they settle in for the night at camp, Claude smiles at the new horse. "The only reason you're wary of me is because you don't know me yet," he murmurs, feeding some food to Wyvern by hand when he knows their third wheel is watching. "But I have time to have you get used to me... and I know you will. It's just a matter of waiting."

Their new horse doesn't particularly respond. He simply continues to watch as Claude feeds Wyvern, and the way Claude runs his hand along Wyvern's snout. If he was able to get Dimitri to reach out to him when his old friend had fallen back to square one in terms of how he felt about humans... Claude is sure that this horse will also follow the same route, and maybe even quicker. Dimitri outright hated humans, after all. The horse doesn't even have feelings that strong; he's just not used to things.

Fortunately, even if he's not used to dealing with a human like this, he's still patient and his hunger trumps over anything else. He eats from Claude's palm as well, and Claude makes sure to get him what he knows are the best parts of his meal. Eventually, he goes off to tend to his own dinner, and the horse finishes off the rest. Like that, together, they eat in comforting silence, and Claude feels reassured that such a huge horse can't escape without making a ton of noise that would wake a light sleeper like himself in a heartbeat.

Even if the new horse may not like him just yet, he still learns to listen well enough as time goes on. There's no need to coax him, or convince him, or get Wyvern too involved in the whole moving process. It's simply that he doesn't show much affection to Claude, and always watches him carefully when there's nothing else to otherwise distract him. That's good progress, and the kind Claude was absolutely expecting.

"He's a beautiful stallion," Ignatz says, when Claude drops by to pick up a few more things he had Leonie relay to his friends in the merchant business. Even as Claude is filling up his pack, Ignatz's eye is trained solely on where the new horse has been tied up and is patiently weathering through Wyvern trying to nip at his ears. Despite this fact, the new horse is managing a rather dignified look about itself, and simply raises his head out of Wyvern's reach. In height, after all, he can't be beat.

Claude chuckles, reorganizing some things for a better fit. "The big guy certainly is. Next to Wyvern, he stands out all the harder... Or maybe it's the other way around."

Blinking, Igntaz glances over at him. "Does he not have a name?"

So he caught on that quickly. Those spectacles of his really aren't merely for show... Ignatz has always been pretty clever, with a good eye for spotting out inconsistencies. Is it because he's an artistic type, or because he's known Claude for so long? It's just one of life's little mysteries that even Claude has to admit are impossible to answer.

Claude only smiles and shakes his head. "Not yet. It's not really my place to name him." That... will be something he wants to give to Dimitri. The opportunity to name and bond with a companion.

Claude doesn't expect for him to bond with this horse like he himself has with Wyvern, of course... but he thinks, he hopes, that Dimitri will still find something positive in the action regardless. If he can just make Dimitri's re-entrance into the world as positive as possible...

Ignatz considers him for a moment before shaking his head, looking back towards the black stallion as he moves his head away from Wyvern once more. No one can say that Claude's steed isn't as stubborn and playful as he is. "Is he for someone that I know?" Ignatz asks, in that way which is subtly careful. They do this song and dance, sometimes - with Ignatz worrying about just what Claude is up to and that he never shares with any of his friends.

It's for the best - for Claude, for Ignatz, for their friends, for Dimitri. Still.... "You don't know who he's for just yet," Claude admits, tugging up the edges of his pack to make sure everything settles inside properly. "But I'll introduce you one day. Honestly, that might be sometime soon, if I can get a break from the church!"

For the time being, it's the best he can do for his friends: a mixture of truth and lies. There's no question on the fact that he's going to get a "break" from the church, in a lot of different ways... But he can frame it as something more in their control than his.

Either way, the one thing that's absolutely and completely true above all else is that he wants to introduce Dimitri to his friends. He wants Dimitri to meet more people that will like him as a person, and he wants people close to him to meet each other, to like one another.

He wants a lot of things. It's going to take a while to get all of them, and even that is something he can't be sure of.

Ignatz considers the answer he's given, before he gives a small smile. "Well... Then, I'll look forward to the kind of person that can ride such an amazingly gallant steed. Maybe it can be something I'll draw - as a memory of your friend and I meeting."

"Should I be jealous, then?" Claude laughs, eyes sparkling. "If only I could get an incredible Ignatz work of art as a first meeting!" As though he hasn't gotten some sketchbooks from Ignatz, hadn't asked for them in exchange for various small favors like introducing him to certain nobles or various little churches for commissions. It's tough being an artist when one is only from a merchant's family... but Claude doesn't want to see Ignatz's talent go to waste, even along with all the other ways this relationship benefits him. "Anyway, tell Raphael I said hi, and that I appreciate the thing from before, about the key."

"I'll be sure to pass along the message." Ignatz pauses for a moment. "And stay safe on the roads, all right, Claude?"

Claude laughs, and waves him good bye as he goes to add his latest supplies to the horses. He's not concerned about what will find him out on the roads.

It's the place he's returning to that's the problem.





When Dorothy sits down in front of him, Dimitri pauses from where he's picked up his piece of bread, and she immediately flusters. "Is this too close... I thought I was coming close enough little by little, like they say to do down in the stables, but he's looking at me... I knew I was being too bold..."

Always fussing so much. Dimitri snorts a bit, and looks back down at his stew so that he can shove the loaf in there again to soak. Even without looking at her, he can tell that she's easing up. The lack of muttering is a bit of a giveaway. That's probably for the better; Dimitri deals with enough tension in the nights where he's prodded into the execution ring. He doesn't want to deal with it while he's eating his meal.

Besides, at least she's even more quiet sitting there in front of him. When she stands, he has to deal with her shuffling feet, her breathing gradually changing the longer she stands. While it's minor enough for him to usually not care, he has to admit that this is even better. When she sits down, there's hardly any sound at all besides the shift of her clothing against itself, and her breath.

As always, she starts her words up again when he doesn't much respond to her. "You know, I asked Lady Clarine... If animals have souls either. She has been learning from the scripture much more religiously than I have... Her family is a little better off in the city as well, instead of how I'm from a farm. I thought she would know, and she did. Apparently, animals... don't have souls either. Just like you."

Souls.... Dimitri knows that word, and fairly well. It's one of those words that seems to come up so often here, especially in relation to him - or, at least, a part of that word is applied to him constantly. He knows what the church, as a whole, thinks about him.... but Dorothy's words has him look up at her curiously, at the same time he raises up his bread from the stew. For once, she's not looking at him, but instead the ground.

So.... They think animals as well have no souls. That makes sense in hindsight. His existence is because they believe that killing another person, extinguishing another soul from this existence, is a sin.

Thus, they need someone else to do it for them... but it can't just be anyone. It has to also be someone who "sin" cannot stick onto. And since apparently "sin" and "soul" go hand in hand... It's all convoluted nonsense as far as Dimitri can tell, and so he's never bothered to try and learn more about it. This is especially true since Claude left - was taken away - so many years ago when they were younger.

In a similar vein, if something is soulless, then not only is it not a sin if it kills something, but it is not a sin if a human kills it. The logic is rather obvious when Dimitri thinks about it. He's simply never bothered to before. So even though animals can feel pain and enjoy eating food and so many other things... Well. It is a convenient logic, he supposes. It allows one to run away from all guilt, or what it means to kill something, or partake of its flesh.

Dorothy is still talking, and so Dimitri has to drag himself out of his own thoughts so that he can focus on her words, and translating them in his head. It's not something he can do half-heartedly.

"I wanted to ask Lady Clarine more things... because it started to seem strange to me. I mean, maybe it's just because I'm not very smart... I'm sure that this is something that the priests and all the priests before them have thought about. But if animals don't have souls... We never kept the herding dogs back on the farm in cages. So I..."

Once more, she trails off. Once more, Dimitri picks his way through the various words she said in order to translate them, or decipher them, or guess at their meaning.

Would Claude be pleased, if he were to hear that Dimitri thinks he can make out more of what was said this time? Would he be able to explain to Dimitri in detail what this girl is saying, pull it all apart so that the innards of meaning could be shown to him in full? It's been a while since he visited his cage... Dimitri wants to see him again. He wants to talk again. How had he not realized how much he'd missed that until Claude began to visit him...

There's a light scratching sound, and Dimitri's ear twitches up, swivels slightly towards the direction of it. It's only Dorothy, her nail scratching along the curve of her boot, near her toes. She's never fidgeted like this before... Dimitri starts to eat his bread quietly, watching her. Usually, she's always mumbled to herself aloud when there's been something she'd needed to work through. This is new... 

"I still wonder why... demons can't be worked alongside like dogs, or horses. I read in a book, once, that dogs and wolves are the same. You look like a cat, almost... Just, not entirely like one. Since you're on two feet... and you have hands..." Dorothy draws her knees up to her chest, and rests her chin upon them. "I wonder... why can't have you out of that cage. If you're the same as an animal... is there any reason to treat you like this? I wonder... if it's only because you don't understand what we say that you're so violent. If you're helping cast judgment on sinners, then... that's a really important job."

Dimitri narrows his eye at her from over his food, and tears into his bread with a particularly violent and rough bite. So even she only thinks of him as something akin to a dog, an animal to be used like dogs are used to herd sheep. Well.... Claude always was the anomaly out of all the humans he'd ever met. It really would be a lot to ask if someone else were exactly like him in this wretched place. If more people were like Claude, then this place wouldn't even exist.

Dorothy says nothing else. She only sits there, brow furrowed, and loses herself in her head again. There is no mumbling, no speaking aloud. Well... That's fine. Dimitri thinks he would prefer the quiet right now.

Of course, things like that can only last for so long, with his luck and his life being what they are. There's the sound of footsteps echoing in the hallway, and Dorothy immediately scrambles up to her feet, grabbing the pole she uses as she does so.

She's just in time. Dimitri lowers his ears and bristles quietly to himself as he sees the other controllers, the proper ones with their tattoos and arrogance, stride into the courtyard. While they look at him with that same disdain and disgust as usual, their eyebrows raise when they see Dorothy so close to his cage. "Actually feeling bold for once, Dorothy?"

All of that is something he can't understand, and said just a little too quickly as well, which is all the more annoying. Dorothy at least speaks slowly, even when mumbling to herself. It's part of what's made it easy to pick out various words and the like, so that he can speak them to Claude later and figure out their meaning.

Dorothy shrinks in the face of these elders of hers, holding tightly onto her pole. Dimitri hadn't realized just how relaxed she's become with him, until he has a situation like this to contrast it with. "He simply.... seemed like he was calm today...."

"That's the problem with inexperienced children like you," one of the controllers grouses - still too quickly for Dimitri to quite interpret what he's saying. His tone gives it away well enough, however. "Demons will turn on you in the blink of an eye for absolutely no reason at all. You're lucky that you have more experienced types like us to tell you what's right from wrong."

Dorothy's fingers wind a little tighter around her pole. Dimitri can only barely see her do it where he's sitting, refusing to do anything but eat his food. "...I didn't think... you would want to bother with the demon while he's eating... There isn't an execution tonight, is there...?"

That has Dimitri pause, eyes narrowed, and he considers eating his stew quickly so that he can have the empty bowl on hand. They make for good throwable items, so long as he can get them past the bars...

"Now now, everyone, let's remember that she's inexperienced," one of the controllers says mildly from the back - a man that Dimitri can recall being particularly glad to use a whip on him when it comes to getting him out of the killing ring. "You see, Dorothy, we have to check on the demon's condition every few months or so. You know, the same way that you would make sure a cow is healthy. A demon is only as good as their fangs and claws, as their ability to kill. So we have to make sure he's not losing his teeth, and maybe even show a bit of kindness to such a monster. You were from a farm. I'm sure you understand."

A lot of those words, he still doesn't understand, and some of them he can't even make out entirely. Yet... Dimitri thinks he understands what's happening, because this has happened plenty of times before.

Just knowing it... doesn't make him any happier, however. Dimitri feels his fur bristle, and he has to take a deep breath. That can happen eventually. For now, he has to finish his food.... since he's not entirely sure these particular controllers would keep it in place for him, or at least keep it clean and free from dirt. He'll have to eat faster than normal...

Except Dorothy takes a deep breath, pole shaking a moment in her hands, before she speaks up. "Can.... it wait until he's finished eating?"

"Oh, what's that? I hope you haven't become fond of that thing, Dorothy."

The pole wavers a little more. Dorothy herself doesn't seem to, from what Dimitri can see as he watches his from underneath his bangs. "I... was told that my job every day is to feed the demon. And... I don't... think it would count if I didn't have him finish his meal entirely..."

Laughter rolls over them from a couple of the controllers, and the one that's pretending to be in charge - it's certainly not Narcian, the one Claude has mentioned before, but why would he ever come down to do this kind of dirty work himself - he tilts his chin up imperiously. "So diligent at such a young age! Well, we'll take this time to go have lunch ourselves, then... But you know, Dorothy, we should take you with us when we finally take care of this demon. Give you a proper look at what really goes into being a controller. We'll see you in a few minutes then."

All Dorothy does is nod in response, awkward and uncertain, but it's a movement that's barely seen. The group is already turning away, with only one bothering to wave at her in good bye - or perhaps dismissal. People here use their thoughts and feelings like snakes, instead of bridges to other people.

Dorothy stays in one place, holding her pole tight while Dimitri finishes off his food. Both of them stay like this, until the figures of the controllers disappear into the hallway, and their footsteps no long echo against stone.

Only then do Dorothy's shoulders slump, and she lets out a rush of breath so hard and sudden that one could hear it from across the courtyard. Dimitri only picks up his sausage, finding some petty amusement that none of those people saw that he had it right there on his plate. Perhaps Dorothy's body or her words blocked their attention. Perhaps they were too far away to properly see it. Perhaps, and Dimitri is petty enough to believe this, they were too full of arrogance to bother checking if anything had changed.

"They're always like that..." Dimitri glances up again, focusing on Dorothy as she winds her fingers again about the pole. With her having turned away from the hallway, it's much easier to see that little action, and the way her brow starts to furrow. "If I were just... No, they wouldn't listen to me.... And I bet there's never been a controller who's bothered with their demon like this. But... it really would be so much easier if I could just...." And she sighs, before she can finish her thought. Well, it is simply her thoughts wondered aloud, instead of something spoken to him. Dimitri won't bother much about it.

Instead, he tilts his head back, and doesn't care how messy his face gets as he cleans up what's left in his bowl before snapping up the rest of his sausage too. Dimitri doesn't put the bowl back down on the tray, however.

Dorothy isn't expecting that, having adjusted her pole in preparation for dragging the tray back to her side, and she pauses while the both of them stare at each other. After a few seconds of awkwardness that Dimitri refuses to feel, Dorothy pulls her pole back to rest along her shoulder again.

"Maybe he wants to clean out the bowl a little more...? I didn't think he would be that hungry... It seemed as though there was a lot of food..." He doesn't give an answer.

She seems content to let him keep a hold of the bowl for the time being, drawing herself into a crouch where her knees are pressed close together and her pole is balanced on her thighs. It's something that most other controllers would never allow. Then again, for most other controllers, Dimitri would throw the bowl at their face in the blink of an eye. "Maybe I should see about getting more for him..."

It's not particularly good food, frankly. Dimitri imagines he would be rather fine if he just had a small pile of sausages and nothing else, since those are by far the most appealing thing he eats nowadays, when Claude is not there for him. Still.... If he's understanding her correctly, he's not wholly against the intent... even if she is only viewing it as him being an animal.

Well. Maybe it's better to be an animal than it is to be a demon.

The pole wobbles where it's perched against her legs, and that's when he pays attention to her again, how she's actually dared to lean a little close to the bars of his cage. Maybe she knows that he could grab her so easily at this distance, just a swipe of her hair and he'd have her in his grasp. Certainly, she has to know how dangerous this is after how he took care of Erik. She was there for it. And yet Dorothy does it anyway, despite the way she bites at her lip, and clenches her fingers into her palms tightly.

"I don't know... if you understand me after all this time. The priests say that demons are clever and sneaky, but you've never done that to me, or said any words in Fodlish. The only time you've ever spoken... was when Mister Claude spoke to you in that other language. Voali. So... I don't know. But, if you do... Then, however the cleaning is supposed to go... I'll try not to make it hurt."

Dimitri has never had cause to believe humans before. The only person he's ever truly been able to believe in... is Claude. Claude, all on his own, not as a representative of humans. So Dimitri just lets her sit there, and watches her stand when there's the sound of footsteps in the hallway again.

When one controller steps further ahead of his pack than all the others, keys in his hand, Dimitri makes sure to throw his empty bowl right at his head.

They forget to torment Dorothy entirely.





Claude looks over the pantry in the hunter's cabin, and breathes easy for once in a long while.

There are a few such places all throughout church territory, across the land that's been claimed by this miserable little offshoot. The one he's in now, that he climbs a ladder up into from out of the pantry, is the one that's closest to the city; he's relieved to say that all his planning has turned out for the best. Thanks to a lot of little conversations, redirections, he's confident that no other hunters will even think of going up to this particular cabin for at least a week... Or maybe it's "at most" a week. Either way, that's all he needs.

Hauling himself over to the fireplace, Claude takes a moment to simply soak in the heat. He'll be here for a night, at least. He can spend a little time preparing himself, taking a breath - the calm before the storm, as they say. Letting the fire warm his feet, he twists around and drags his pack back over to him. He'd simply dropped it on the ground when he'd entered after making sure Wyvern and the black stallion were stabled for the time being, but he has things he has to look over now as he spends the night here.

The spare key to Dimitri's cage.... Put in a small pouch that he's going to double tie to his belt before he sets off for the city. The most important thing of all. Already on his belt is his lockpicking set, for any unexpected doors that might bar his way... and getting into one of the bishop's chambers. Claude won't feel too bad intruding upon the space of the man who apparently has hand chosen or recommended some of the worst controllers in the lot. A knife... for cutting off all connections. And finally, a large cloak that will cover up even Dimitri's massive frame, and keep his face hidden in shadows.

All that, plus a small set of bandages. A group of things that, with the exception of the cloak, could fit in a small pack without any issue. Anything else, he can pack onto Wyvern, because it won't do them any good to have too much when he ducks inside.

Faintly, he wonders if his messages were passed along properly within the church - a message and package to the kitchens, stamped with a priestly seal. Messages and bribes sent along to other people, so that they'll turn their heads the other way at a certain time. Messages to people like Henning, spinning a yarn about where he's at, which he's written is quite a distance away from the church instead of only a small distance away.

Claude takes in a deep breath, and rolls his head back to stare up at the ceiling. At the beginning of the year... He thought he would have to do so many different things, for such a long time, before he could ever strike at the church.

He'd really been in it for the long haul, hadn't he? Gathering evidence, getting into places he wasn't supposed to be, making connections.... In the end, he was only ever one person against the church. That meant, for his impact to have any meaning whatsoever... He would have had to drive it with has much force as possible, into just the right place at the right time. Like breaking through a rock, or ice.

And now here he is, about to break out this church's oh-so-valuable executioner, and set off no doubt a chain of reactions. Claude already has plans for his return, exactly what to say and who to say it to, if he's not called upon immediately for whatever reason... But this is big. Bigger than he expected he'd be able to make happen, and possibly big enough to change so much so quickly, even if it's something that will ultimately be a long game in the end. Dimitri being free... will change so much.

Claude exhales the breath he took in, feels his lungs empty out completely. A part of him.... wonders if he would have left Dimitri in there if he thought that his old friend couldn't help out this plan against the church. He wonders a lot of things, like if he would have helped if it were anyone else and not just Dimitri, from his childhood. There are so many ways this could have ended differently....

And yet he supposes there's no point worrying about it, not really. Maybe, maybe, it will tell him a little more about himself, really force him to think on his actions and reasoning and beliefs... but maybe it will also just make him spiral into self doubt, and distract him from the task he has ahead of himself. It's better for him to double check everything he has available for himself, so that his plan can go as smoothly as it can possibly go.

So, after a moment, he pushes himself back up onto his feet and does a double check around the cabin again. With something like this, he doesn't want to forget even a single thing... but fortunately, there's no need to worry too hard about it.

The bed has plenty of blankets, and thick ones too, that will weather any sudden chills perfectly. Claude doesn't plan on staying here for too long, because he can't afford to, but, well.... Better safe than sorry. Likewise, plenty of firewood has been stocked up both alongside the fireplace itself, and outside of the cabin. All of the kitchen tools, and other equipment to living out here is set up... as is the rainwater that's been collected for drinking, and use of the bathing and animal prepping room.

Everything... is perfectly set up, exactly as he could want it. All Claude can do is wait the night and day away....

Until he can get onto Wyvern, black stallion in tow, to guide them down the path and into the woods nearest to the city. It's still only evening when he arrives to where he wants to be, and he finds himself holding his breath as he watches the moon pass, the shadows stretch. When it's finally the right time...

He steps towards the city walls.