CHPT 255: Roamers of the Canyon and the Sands....

Another day asleep. Another day spent away from his nightmares and knee deep into the snowy challenge of pushing a giant boulder up a mountain while the God of Wolves watched overhead like a feral tyrant.

It would've been the same as everything other night spent in the Astral Realm if not for one glaring fact. One true testament of his growth in power. Not in the form of being able to form his inner turmoil into a Demon-Slaying Chimera-Hound that spit flaming javelins. Or in the form of a new tattoo that turned into a leash for Demons. This testament of his growth in power was much different. Much more simple, yet equally as profound.

He'd gotten the boulder up the mountain. He'd pushed through the slush, broken hands, bleeding feet and Fenrir's overwhelming aura. He'd made it up the mountain.

All that was left was his reward for his showcase of strength, determination and ferocity.

What he'd gotten was a snarling mess of backhanded compliments before being hit with a blast of magic he had no understanding of and sent back to the base of the mountain.

While he'd fought to force air back into his lungs, Fenrir left him with a simple message before he disappeared from the Astral Realm.

The boulder was never the test. It was the warm up. A warm that would show that he could handle the strength of his true opponent. His third opponent.

First it was the FlameHorn. Next it was the Draug. And now, it was the Trolls. The giant magical humanoid Jotunn-like Monsters that roamed the ice cold stone mountains Claude spent days on end traversing with a boulder in front of him.

All those nights spent, imagining the boulder as everything that weighed him down in the real world. All those nights spent putting everything he had into the giant stone, only to fail. All of it, all the struggle finally transforming into perseverance shown in him finally being able to push it up the mountain.

Just to find out it was all a prerequisite to showing that he could simply survive the overwhelming power of the beings in the mountains. Another instance that put into perspective how weak he still was. But, it also was able to show a chance for growth.

As his vision faded to black within the Astral Realm. He couldn't take his eyes off the towering mountains that ripped into the black night sky. The mountains that Fenrir stood at the apex of, his body seeming to melt into the clouds and night sky like a giant ghost he couldn't meet the eyes of.

Within those mountains. On their endless stretches of icy stone landscape, his blood would run, his stamina would drain, his muscles would tear and his power would grow.

And everytime he'd finish fighting for power within the mountains, he'd wake up, freshly reminded of why he needed this "StRenGTH oF ThE JoTUNN!" as Fenrir put it.

As if he didn't already have enough reasons to be in need of strength...

***

After the events that took place within the Astral Realm-- which felt more like a failure than anything, he still slept. Fenrir had a tendency to do that. Make everything feel like a failure that is. Then again, Claude never expected support from a possible Dark God. That wasn't their relationship. They were simply two vengeful souls; one needed the others power and the other needed one to spread his influence and remind the Humans of one thing. He was coming.

A fact that usually filtered into his nightmares-- but not this one. Not the nightmare he was plunged into after being abruptly booted from the Astral Realm.

In fact, this one was different from the usual. Instead of finding a sky full of Vampires, or Lupines of Remus ripping through everything that breathed in front of him, he was back in the cave. Just him and Ursula.

She slept soundlessly and as still as stone while he stood, listening to the approaching footsteps of many.

His heart raced and his skin sweat as the steps neared and the sounds of voices accompanied them. He remembered their words perfectly...

"This is where the trail leads....."

"We are sure of this."

"Well then. I think it's time for our predetermined reunion."

Claude's blood ran cold, "Det. Mixus...Ronin....."

His very own personal tormentor and his band of psychotic Detectives had found them, and they no longer had to work around the rules of a University. Out in the desert, away from Human eyes, Ronin and his Detectives could do whatever they wanted to him....and her.

He'd seen a glimmer of Ronin and his combat capabilities. He knew death was a certain outcome if they clashed in his current state.

The realization had him turning to grab Ursula and go. Only something was wrong.

She no longer rested on the cave floor, instead she stood on alert with eyes focused on the cave exit.

While he watched her, his ears twitched as someone unsheathed their sword and an explosion shook the cave as a sandstorm whirled to life outside.

Ronin had unsheathed his Cursed Blade. Chaos forged under fire and hammered into a sword built for bloody murder.

Instead of the sound urging him to grab her and run, he froze. Stuck watching her through a body turned to stone.

He tried to talk but no words came out. He tried to move, but he was deeply rooted to the stone floor.

All he could do was watch as her skin erupted in steam and her muscles bubbled-- hardening into dense skin and growing dark auburn fur, until she stood as a giant Lupine with eyes that glowed like raging glaciers.

Then, she let out a bloodcurdling roar and charged the walking storm of chaos that was Ronin outside the cave.

He screamed and strained against his frozen body, but all he could do was listen to her roars and cries from being cleaved to unrecognizable pieces.

When he'd finally broke free of the nightmare and woken up, he came closer than ever to throwing up with one thought stuck firmly to his mind.

They needed to travel further.

***

After waking from the nightmare, Claude felt the familiar buzz that came with being a Lupine in need of exercise. So, he hunted.

When he returned to the cave, ate and fed Ursula, the feeling still lined his muscles and tendons like small cords of lightning, ready at any second to explode and send him into a frenzied outburst.

The urge to create more space between them and SkyHaven was back in full swing. So when the pack was done eating, they exited the cave in a rush to traverse the sands and canyons under the glimmering stars and luminescent Moon.

His mind was seldom in a place of peace, but during their run it was even further from it.

Everything raised his hackles.

The distant scents of blood, the sights of things moving in the distance and even the haunting monstrous howls of something that wasn't and was a Wolf.

"Gnolls....." He thought before letting his mind and body be taken by the run.

The rest of his travels for the next hour remained that way, listening to distant Monsters and smelling blood while he past small patches of villages in the distance in pursuit of safety and that odd feel of true Nature that still tugged at the back of his mind.

The villages he passed varied in condition but he understood to whom they belonged with a single glance as he ran. Some were wrecked and functioned as homes to the Monsters of the deserts, others were inhabited by man and guarded by warriors-- completely unaware of the creatures that roamed in the dark.

The villages were scarce, small and completely gone after his travels dipped deeper into the night and carried him away from what may have been the outskirts of a distant city. Cities were bad news. Cities brought Heroes, Enforcers, Detectives and Raiders. All bad news for Claude.

So, when the quiet canyons and deserts were all he could see for miles, he felt relieved in a way.

If he wasn't so occupied, he would've been able to fully take in the beautiful scenery of his surroundings. Like the cold and bright beige sands that gave under his paws and glimmered like diamonds under the Moon. Or the giant mountains and hills in the distance backed by archaic looking canyons that scooped out thick portions of the earth to allow noisy bodies of water to splash against their rocky walls. If the place wasn't crawling with Monsters in every corner, it would've been absolutely beautiful.

He stood still within the sands for a moment and raised his snout to the stars before taking in a deep breath of air.

"[What do you smell?]"

"...Sand...minerals...blood..water. There could be a nearby forest. Or a cave."

"[Indeed. But don't forget, caves are dangerous. We got lucky with the last one. For now, head towards the forests.]"

Claude huffed in understanding before heading further into the wild, following the scents of water that would abruptly lead to abundant life and forestry.

That was the plan at least...

Before he could take off, Gil placed himself in-front of him with his devilishly long ears alert and aimed ahead of them. A snarl shook his scaled lips while tufts of green flames burst from the glowing scars that ran along his double-scaled torso.

The rest of the pack caught onto his alertness and began searching into the night.

Claude's grip over Ursula tightened as his eyes flared and strained to see every detail of the desert-like lands under the quiet of night.

Fortunately-- and maybe unfortunately, it didn't take much to find what had Gil alarmed.

They moved as black dots in the distance that became clearer and clearer with every step....bound? Their movements weren't entirely human. Something he learned quickly and became sure of when his ears picked up on their calls.

It was an odd sound that raised the fur on his arms.

Like a band of wild-men, they came down from the hills and mountains in the distance. At least a dozen in number, letting off the dull and brainless sounds of something goat-like only deeper and lined with the screams of a man.

It was nowhere near pleasant, or hauntingly beautiful like the howls of a wolf. Instead, it was as annoying as it was intimidating.

The sounds continued to climb as they neared, allowing the Moonlight to shine on their hybrid features.

Most of them wore the skins of animals that hung loosely like capes over their muscled bodies wrapped in thin fur while they raised there poorly made weapons and continued to roar horribly into the night.

For a fraction of a moment, his heart froze in response to the thought that he'd just found his first clan of SkinWalkers.

"[Not SkinWalkers.]" Arne replied as if peering into his thoughts, "[Look at how they move.]"

Claude let his eyes take in their full figure from the distance.

As they always had, they didn't exactly run. Instead they hopped and bounded on two legs that looked like they belonged to a horse more than a man. A telling fact when the silhouette of the closest to approach suddenly showcased a pair of horns spiraling from it's head on each side.

Before it could get any closer, Gil snarled and opened his tooth filled mouth.

FWOOSH!

A streak of green flame shot across the desert like a shooting star before sinking into the chest of the creature and sending it on it's back, screaming in flames and thrashing while it's cloven feet kicked up sand wildly.

The others in the distance froze momentarily before spreading out and speeding up, now louder and sounding more savage than before.

"Guard her." Claude ordered before placing Ursula in the sand. As soon as her back hit the ground, the Phantom Wolves surrounded her in a cloud of black smoke immediately.

Ashe, Frosty and Gil paced in front of him menacingly while he rolled his shoulders and neck before dropping to all fours and snarling loud enough to shake the sand beneath his pawed hands and feet.

"[You know what they are, don't you?]"

"I didn't at first. But the legs and horns were a dead giveaway. They're Satyr's."

"[Good. Also unfortunate for them since you haven't had your morning workout yet.]"

A growl escaped his black lips in preparation for combat as they approached, "Agreed."