Chapter 57

The feeling of pain was numbing for a moment, before something in the cub decided to come up. Violently ill for a second, he doesn't notice the chuckling men. All wearing some form of jeans and t-shirt, they had the kind of lithe bodies that were muscled, but not overly done. Built to allow freedom of movement, and not powerful, in a way. Fortunately, the puking cub didn't move close enough to hit them, landing on a familiar wooden floor. His body back to wolf form and nails scratching little grooves, his mind idly thinking he would have to buff that out.

The smell of puke, faint decay and death, with a mix of cleaning supplies readied next to him. A huff comes out from the middle man, "Damn, I owe grandpa the beer now." He seems to be upset, but not really worried. "Get him out boys, don't want to clean up more than we have to already. " He says with a shake of his head as the pair standing next to him, easily lifting the full-sized wolf, that should have caused a little struggle.

The pair of men wouldn't have looked out of place in a magazine. They walk quickly through his home, getting him out the door and dropping him on the lawn. For the next few moments, the wolf cub shivers before something that he hadn't had happened since his death kicked in. Sweat and other refuse from his body starts to pour out, almost like a dam had broken. Both men having hands a foot out over the nose, "Man, I don't remember it stinking this much when I went through this."

The other shakes his head, "That's because you were in it, your nose was stopped. Just like dad told me." His hand still covering, for a moment, realizing just what he was seeing. The cub looking at them, realizing their bodies were just illusions. The man nods at the younger wolf, "Good, you done, or something else needs out?" Finally, able to move out of the mess he made, the cub's head bobs.

The cub finally noticed a distinguishing feature between the two, the first to talk had sandy brown hair, while the second had something that looked lighter black. "Anything to clean me up with? Maybe get some introductions." He says with little distress as the fact his fur was matted in a few places, with an annoyance at the fact that he had been watched during this. The feeling of weakness was strong, but it wasn't hard to imagine why.

The sandy haired man bobs his head, "Well, I am Blaine, that raven furred ass is Tench, don't ask why father picks his names as he does." He says nodding towards the other man standing next to him. A deluge of water suddenly falls down, encompassing both Blaine and the cub. A chuckle is heard from the side.

Tench takes up for their brother, "Your probably wondering why your digestive tract is suddenly more extensive. When you're on the battlefield, as we prefer to call it, grandfather like to call it the breeding ground, we exist in a more energetic state. Now that you are an adult, unless you pick a realm with energy based existences, you're going to have a more natural digestion. If you take too long to form, usually there would be enough crud here to fill a pool." He says moving his hands in a fashion.

The cub nods, taking a moment to really stare at the two men that were his brothers, he sees under what is outside. Both men had taken a wolfman form, the cub notices their hands had a more natural 3 knuckles, instead of the five he had when talking to Fenrir. "How did you get your forms?" He asks, not wanting to stare up, unable to put the illusions back in place. He found his eyes would be resting at hip height if he didn't keep them raised. While tails would protect his view in the back, right now they were facing him, and giving an eyeful.

Seemingly having decided how they were going to chat beforehand, Blaine takes the question, "Bit of practice, and a bit of guidance, being descendants of Loki, gives us the ability to change shape. Almost any animal can obtain it, if they offer up a bottle to him. They have to be intelligent enough to know what they are doing, or it's just wasted alcohol. Most of the Norse pantheon will show appreciation for the gift, don't expect any miracles from it." The advice and warning in the statement seem to be agreeable to the cub.

Tench seems to guess what the cub was thinking, "Yes, there are other pantheons, Greeks and Romans actually are just one, Egyptians, with how inbred their stories are, are more straightforward then that." A shudder passing through the dark furred wolfman, "Olympians are easy to appease, food and drink, that is the only thing necessary, while Egyptians, they all have their favorite organ or fluid. I think that's why there is canopic jars."

Blain gives his own shudder, "At least Aztecs are slighty better, they still prefer organs, but they at least prefer one." The thought of how so many stories of removal of the still beating organ from the chest came to mind. The cub quickly dismisses the thought, not really wanting to dwell on the fact, especially now, knowing that they actually existed, even if they weren't active in the world.

"Don't tell me there are abominations from the void to." The psychadelicly furred cub covers his eyes, not wanting to think of the potential of meeting a Cthulhu or any Lovecraftian horror from the abyss. His fur's colors seem to shift a bit more violently, a fact both his brothers take a moment to ponder. A two toned coloration wasn't unfamiliar to the pair, but one that shifted, that was a bit more unnatural.

Blaine was quickest to answer, "Not really in most realms. Don't go to one of dreaming, the laws there are more fluid, allowing collectives to create some great and terrible things. Father will explain more when we get back inside. Shake yourself off, then we will head in." He says with an expression that stated it wasn't a suggestion. The young wolf quickly shakes off, idly thinking what his neighbors might be seeing, and prepares to head inside, waiting for those with opposable thumbs to lead the way.