The door to Miah’s apartment opens quietly and closes. The scent of the small wolf woman who shares the space with him, filters through. But it’s not just her scent, it’s mixed with the smell of blood.
What might be worse is the feeling of fear that rolls through the apartment, not overwhelming but still sharp and tangy with that feral edge Jeremiah’s come to know.
“… Miah …” comes the soft call from the entry way.
“Here.” Jeremiah can feel that Brinley’s emotions are not settled. What exactly happened he does not know but it doesn’t matter right now. He can scent the blood, and he knows at least that some of it is not hers.
His silhouette appears in the doorway, backlit by the window at the end of the hallway letting in the harsh orange light from the street. “What’s happened?”
Most of the blood isn’t hers but it coats her claws and fur. Brins golden eyes glow in the dim light as she looks at the silhouette, that really just looks like a big dark shape at the moment. “… Miah …”.
Closing the distance between, he can feel //relief// in her emotions – still wild but the fact that he’s here seems to calm her. Just when he thinks she might throw herself at him, she draws up – remembering she’s covered in blood.
“Fight … Purifiers and Morlocks… Got nasty. Couldn’t … get away. Scared. Then Angry.” Her jumper, which was already thread bare tells part of the story. It’s torn and ripped – not by claws or fangs – all it would have taken was for someone to grab it.
Miah nods and reaches out for her hand. “Come on. Come to the kitchen. Sit down and I’ll wash you. Are you badly hurt?”
He presses the young she-werewolf into one of the admittedly somewhat threadbare chairs and goes to the kitchen to get a cloth and fill up a basin. When he comes back he sets the basin on the table and starts to slowly wipe the dried blood out of her fur. The clothing… well, they may have to get new clothing. This stuff will be pretty badly stained.
Brins claws close around Miah’s hand and she lets him lead her to the kitchen. “Not … hurt.” At least she doesn’t think so. Miah might find out differently shortly.
Watching as he fills the basin, the small brindle wolf shifts in the chair, not putting her back against it. “You … don’t … have to.” she says quietly. She had been coming to shower but she doesn’t argue and sighs a little as the warm cloth starts to clean the blood away.
She’s right, she’s not badly hurt but now that he’s closer and there’s better light, he can see the abrasions where she knocked to the ground and he can tell that she used the claws on her left hand. Her right hand – her dominant one – is much cleaner.
She’d been in the midst of the fighting and fighting herself.
“You … aren’t … worried by me …” she’s said that before and as he works “I … caused the mob …. to go wild.” she whispers. The fear sharpens and he can feel her tremble under his hand.
“Did you cause the fighting?” Miah says quietly as he cleans the cloth off and then wipes the small werewolf down again. She’ll still have to shower but this way she wont have so much dried blood matted in her fur.
In any case he already knows the answer to the question and when she confirms it he snorts. “Then no, I am not worried. None of what happened was your fault. Though I can see you fought too.” Blood under her claws. Some of her claws anyway. Why she might not use her right hand is curious to him.
“Not cause it.” Brin shakes her head and looks at Miah as he works. He’s so very gentle with her. “Some … was. I was scared… It made… them worse. Then … someone was so very angry, Miah.” She’s still trembling – that might be as much to do with the adreline leaving her system as outright fear. Though, she is scared and worried – he can tell.
“I … did … fight. I was … angry too. Called my sword and … hurt people.” That might answer why the claws on her right hand are cleaner. “It wouldn’t … have got … so bad if I wasn’t there….”
She lets him clean her left hand as her right one absently strokes his cheek.
“You don’t know that.” Miah says gently. She’s getting close to clean, which is good because the water in the basin is quite muddy red now. Using it will be of… limited use in a few minutes. She smells better too now, though not by much.
“No one will hurt you here though. You’re safe.” The last of the blood he can get to gone, he places the washcloth aside and gives the small werewolf a gentle hug.
“You didn’t … see… or feel.” The smaller wolf whispers. She knows how the crowd felt after her shields slipped and how she struggled to try and rebuild them. “Monica … and Rocky … were there. They led … the Morlocks against the Purifiers…”
That might be interesting to Miah. That it was possibly the Morlocks that started it.
When he hugs her, Brin wraps her arms around him and hugs tightly. The fear that she was exuding when she came in starting to abate. And yes, she smells, she should probably shower and change, but she doesn’t seem inclined to move just yet.
“I’m … not worried … about someone … hurting me. I … worry … I will … hurt them.” Like she did not long ago. Miah can feel that feral edge to her emotions, it’s sharper now and her mind is seeking his.
“You haven’t hurt me yet.” Miah isn’t exactly surprised when he’s hugged back. She’d been holding in a lot of tension and she needed some way to let it out. Some way that didn’t let her emotions run wild. Or… is that hte case. He can sense those emotions as her mind touches his. His isn’t hard to find and with no talent of his own it’s not like he can keep her out.
Not that he thinks he wants or needs to. “You’re okay. It’s okay…” He soothes as she hugs. What her mind will do when it lays ahold of his he has no idea.
Brin is a little amazed she hasn’t hurt Miah yet. He seems to be, not immune, but able to weather her empathic broadcasts better. Then again, she also finds his mind rather soothing. She’s said more than once that she could shelter there.
Still, her mind reaches out and touches his, teasing the edges of the feral part of it and starting to work it’s way through it. Trying to find a point in which can anchor.
Most psychic avoid this part of the brain in the Morlocks – it’s not pleasant and in many ways, touching it can produce unpleasant side effects.
But not Brin, and Miah might find that having something similar touch his mind isn’t uncomfortable at all.
Still hugging tightly, she whispers again “I don’t … want to… hurt you. I … don’t … know… if I could but let me … make sure … I can’t …”
Jeremiah blinks. He hasnt spent much time around telepaths or empaths. They tend to look human and dont often wind up stuck out here in the sprawl. Its not an unpleasant feeling, no, but its also one he isnt familiar with. It feels like shes rifiling through his emotions, stripping them down to most basic instinct.
“What… what are you doing Brinley?”
“Protecting … you… Miah…” Brins mind is certainly do just that. When it finds just pure instinct, a part curls around it. He can feel her as she anchors in place, her own instinct slowly attuning to his.
How this is protecting him, isn’t clear. But what is clear, is that she believes it is.
What does it do to him, as she pushes his human emotions aside, baring that instinct and then aligning with it?
Miahs eyes go wide, and then blank. He isn’t at home right now, Jeremiah Gleason. Just the instinctive part. The part that is more animal than man. He leans a bit harder against Brinley and chuffs in her ear, What might happen next is anyone’s guess but he isn’t thinking right now. Just feeling.
… That’s not what she’d expected. That response. The small brindle wolf freezes for a moment as her mind anchors in his, sinking deep. She’ll be able to find this place anytime she wants now.
His animal response is strong, causing her to growl a little before she shakes her head to try and clear it. She has to be careful, she knows that … instinctively. One wrong move, one slip and his animal nature will take over.
Carefully, she tries to withdraw her mind now it’s anchored and not … upset the wolf that’s acting on instinct.
Miah growls slightly when Brinley does but she stops quickly enough that it doesnt escalate. She has just about got her mind clear of his when she feels something wet on her cheek.
He licked her. And now hes sniffing at the top of her head, near her ears. Curious. Maybe slightly mischevious. He licks again, this time folding her ear back with his tongue.
Brin feel his growl rumble against her, he is leaning against her afterall. With her mind nearly clear, though she can still sense that anchor, the small brindle wolf is about to breath a sigh of relief.
“Miah …” she rumbles herself, ears flicking slightly as he sniffs. It //is// mischevious, this type of investigation and her tail starts to wag, thumping against the leg of the chair she’s sitting on. This … probably isn’t good.
As her ear folds back, the small brindle wolf yips a little and noses against his neck, snuffling a little, before licking his cheek in return. It’s … kinda playful.
Miah buries his nose in her hair and whuffles. She can feel it blow her short hair around a bit. When she licks he licks back. A bit of ticklish tit for tat at play here, clearly.
She still really needs a shower but clearly he doesn’t mind. Also his weight is still on her meaning she needs to shift him if she wants to get up which she well may.
Brin pushes against Miah, getting his weight of her as she chuffs in amusement, licking him back and nipping at his ears.
Once she’s clear, she hops down off the chair, tail still wagging and ‘hops’ about. Pouncing forward and then darting away, leading him out of the kitchen.
The ‘chase’ instinct certainly gets a response. Miah doesn’t have a tail but he does follow her out. Slowly, step by step, out of the kitchen and necessarily toward the back of the house. Where is she taking him? He doesn’t know and can’t really think. His instinct is in charge and the part of him responsible for rational thought has taken a vacation.
Where is she leading him? Around the apartment it seems. As he chases, she runs, hiding around corners and jumping out as she can. For the moment, it’s just two wolves … playing.
They’ll play till they’re exhausted and maybe rational thought will return.