No words were exchanged when he entered the cabin. She shut the door behind him, since his arms were preoccupied with the wolf, and just as he had done before with Lucina, he laid the wounded creature on his own bed and set about dressing its wounds. Lucina brought him a bucket of water and a few rags and helped with this process, though her face reflected a pain that would put the wolf's to shame. Together they worked to save the beast, and more than once its iron jaws clamped down on Priam's forearms, but he already knew his blood would be spilled one way or another before the night was over, and clearly the invaders were not keen to do so.
Once every trace of red in the wolf's pelt had been carefully scrubbed away and each seeping wound bound professionally, Priam felt himself extinguish. It was finite and he had no willpower to fight it; he was too tired to think and perform complex tasks like doctoring and talking, so he tossed another log on the fire and laid down beside it. The flames seemed to be crushed beneath the fresh log, attempting to bear its weight and lift it off but unable to budge it in the slightest, until suddenly they realized streaming up around it and engulfing it from the outside in worked perfectly, and then the cheerful blaze crackled soothingly. It was his lullaby, the popping of dry wood paired with shallow breathing from a wolf, which harmonized with the gentle breeze of Lucina's subtle shifting. His eyes darted between the glowing embers and her, lost in the shadows and seated beside the patient that had, at one point, tried to kill her. Never had he truly recognized the light Lucina seemed to carry, a slight phosphorescent glow that came from her pallid flesh and was imperceptible unless she was surrounded by nothing but darkness. In this light, her hair was a waterfall more tumultuous than he had ever seen in the craggiest sections of the woods, tumbling down to the foamy gleam of her skin, but it endeared him because it was so similar to his own. Not in length, surely, but in savage liberation. It was one thing he particularly envied about the beasts of the woods: their shaggy pelts were never too long or unkempt. In the mechanical world of humans, even hair could be jailed or executed for the strangest of reasons. The absurd thought quickly sent him to sleep, but he did not remain in the shadowy world of dreams for long. All night he flickered between deep slumber and wavering awareness, and each time he felt himself return to consciousness he would check Lucina and the wolf.
She stayed by the creature all night, never resting, using a clean rag and a bucket of pure water to squeeze moist drops into the open mouth of the wolf. It lapped unenthusiastically at the rag, clearly too weak to appreciate a commodity like water, but it was breathing when the red light of morning spread through the windows. With daytime imminent, the beast's companion scratched at the door as a rejected dog would, begging to be brought inside, and Priam determined after what seemed to be hours of thought that he should include this poor wolf. He hauled himself up but she beat him to the door, and as soon as a sliver of chilled air seeped through the opening so did the creature, pushing its way inside and darting immediately for its comrade. Reunited, they seemed to rejoice and smile, the wounded one even raising its head a bit. Something about their meeting inspired him, but in a dark and foreboding manner, as if he had come to terms with a previously evaded demise. He turned to her, watching as she shut the door in some sort of stupor, examining the fading scrapes on her bare ankles that had been caused by the very animals now occupying his bed. "Who is your brother?"
"He was the boy out there," she replied monotonously, eyes fixated on the floorboards. "The one that spoke to you."
"He said he would not take the throne because it was the will of your father. They cannot take back your kingdom without a king to crown."
"While my father did wish for me to wear the crown, there are other reasons Morgan cannot rule. It is of no concern to you." She lifted her gaze, the usual vitality sapped entirely from her eyes. "Or to me. I cannot go back."
"If you explained to Morgan first, told him about the wolf-"
Fury flickered across her face. "I do not stay because of the curse! We have discussed this, woodsman. I stay because of you, though you seem to be deaf half the time. Even if Morgan understood the wolf, he would have to convince every one of our followers that I am to be trusted. And, supposing those loyals do not turn on me, all of this would lead to me ascending the throne in a world where you don't exist."
"Why do I matter above your people?" He was careful of the fire so that, should something snap in either of them no one would end up in the flames. "If your city is anything like our wolves, they need a leader or else they are lost. You saw how they were when I bested their alpha."
"You usurped his position," she accused suddenly, gesturing to the injured creature whose eyes had once again closed, and whose companion was curled up on the floor. "Do not pretend that your situation fits mine, because if it does, you are the evil that needs to be conquered. That alpha will return stronger and kill you, and the wolves will follow it again as if you never existed."
"If I am the usurper, why do you stay?"
"You know very well why."
Though thoughts of the city and these politics normally irritated him to the point of rash anger, some part of this morning and that terrible night caused him to snap. He was livid, absolutely enraged, and no curse could save her now. "If it is 'love' I suggest you forget it now. Even if I were interested in understanding it, even if I had the slightest inclination to act on it, even if it has already ensnared me, I am not from a fairytale. I am not here to rescue you, and you are not here to rescue me. Whatever fantasy held you here for so long, forget it. Abandon it. I have no idea what you mean by 'love' and I never will. Go be with other humans; those are your people and with them you belong. Go reclaim your throne and let me stay out here until the wolf reclaims his." He stepped closer to her, towering above her, and she seemed to shrink down until he realized she was practically cowering on the ground. "I enjoyed the company of the wolf, yes. I will miss hunting with a partner. But this princess and her conflicts do not concern or interest me. You are healed enough to leave. Morgan will not have left the woods in one night. Go catch him and tell him what you will about me."
Tears slipped silently from her eyes, and she turned her head away from him so that he could not see. Dawn filtered in through the windows but the light could not sway him, not when he was in such a state. Even the wolves could sense the argument, for they had both lifted their heads to observe.
"You do not know what you say," she murmured, as if his speech had only wounded her eyes. "If it is what you want, I will leave. May I at least keep the dress?"
"Keep whatever you like. It's all the same to me. Just leave, and take these human troubles with you."
Wordlessly she nodded and reached for his bow, which was tossed carelessly on the small table, and he felt a twinge of anxiety that she would take his last memory of his father. It passed quickly, though, and he began planning for a replacement. Lucina, the strange werewolf who had come to him what seemed like years ago, stepped out his door for what he determined would be the last time. The wounded wolf glanced between him and the door, and after a moment hobbled away from the bed to follow her. Its healthy companion whined but stayed put, and then the door shut behind the pair.
Until midday Priam idled about the cabin, explaining things to the wolf in the body language he had used so frequently with Lucina, and the consequences of his actions came at him slowly and then ebbed away. He was prepared for this; he knew how to harden so that loss felt like nothing at all. He thought of his mother, could not remember her face or her voice or her manner of death, but he recalled distinctly that he had lost her and his father had dragged them away from the world of humans. Away from human troubles. All those years ago he had become accustomed to solitude, and he had a wolf to fill the void of the one he lost. When he realized the time, he brought this new companion into the woods, silently exploring trees as if they held the answers, and soon he found himself following a vaguely familiar trail. It let out near the summer den of a grizzly, though there were no signs of the beast today, and as he scanned the surrounding area he realized that, growing on the hill above the cave, was a single cherry tree.
What had he done? He told Lucina a legend of a cherry tree who had torn away the armor of a pine, how they had broken the barrier between wild and civilized with their friendship, and he said he had learned it from the cherry herself. He had lied about that, too. He had learned it from her, from Lucina, from the piece of civilization that had torn away his armor and forged with him a friendship that broke all barriers. He had sent her off because her problems apparently meant nothing, even when she had abandoned her kingdom in favor of a life with him. Whatever it had been, anger, frustration, denial, was irrelevant. All that mattered was his ability to act now and amend his grave mistake.
He rerouted for town, knowing that it would be nearly dark by the time he arrived, and the wolf sauntered alongside him. It was excited to see the town, Priam assumed, and he let that raise his spirits a bit. When they stepped out of the woods altogether, supported in spirit by one another, he experienced a trace of depression that he had not known since childhood, one that flowed around his stone hunter's heart and reminded him he was entirely alone in the woods save for the creatures who had stumbled into it. Pushing this aside for now, he and the wolf crept through the twilit streets and explored obscure alleys with honed senses, detecting traces of many things but not a girl and a wounded wolf. He knew it was not a futile endeavor; if she was not here she would be by morning, and Morgan's band would surely announce the return of the princess immediately if she had encountered them in the forest. It was a sprawling city, despite its relative dwarfism compared to his domain in the woods, so he could not search it in its entirety without rest. He and the wolf stopped in an alley that appeared free of even rats, and he leaned against the wall while the beast sniffed around. Somehow he would find Lucina before harm could befall her, though his faith in her survival was strong, and even if she did not wish to see him he would apologize for his words and then return to his home with a clear conscience. Part of him still hoped she would return with him and be the wolf forever, but this was a dream for children and he tossed it aside.
The wolf snapped to attention suddenly, interrupting his thoughts, and darted off, and before he could call it a coward or traitor, something blacker than the night descended on him. It seemed to come from the sky, or at least the rooftops, but by the time he had deduced its origins it had made contact. He saw the light of the stars dashed across the sky like smeared blood and then the darkness overtook him entirely.