Chase attacked first, bringing his sword up in an upright arc. Ethan blocked the shot, his sword sliding off Chase's blade and toward the Shepherd's chest. Chase jumped out of the way, going for another strike. Ethan went deeper into his rage, and even though he hadn't used his powers yet, they were bound to come out at any second.
'Damn, this wolf is good.' Chase's smile widened. 'But in this rage, he's not thinking straight. This should be easy.' He rushed forward again, blocking and parrying his opponents' attacks. Surprisingly, they were all very coordinated and flowed together well. Interesting. This may not be as easy as the prince thought.
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Ethan's first rational thought of the fight came through. 'Why bother using my powers on this pup? I like a fair fight at times, and damn he's good. I won't bother with magic.' He let loose a series of coordinated attacks on Chase, his sword flowing easily from one to the next as if he was made of water. The German Shepherd had a hard time keeping up with them, but keep up he did. The pup clearly had plenty of training. Good.
The fight went on. Most of the town had come out to witness it, though Marshall was noticeably absent. The two fighters were almost equal in their skill, but it was clear that Ethan was holding back. Chase went in for a stab, and for the slightest moment he lost his balance. Ethan responded immediately.
The wolf's leg lashed out, hitting Chase's leg straight in the kneecap. Chase collapsed, groaning in pain as he felt some bones in his leg crack. Luckily, there was not enough power to break his leg. Within a second, Chase had his sword knocked away and Ethan's pointed at his throat. The wolf growled, baring fangs. Chase looked away, exposing his neck, the universal sign of defeat and submission. Ethan did nothing, just kept staring daggers.
The villagers that surrounded them were still respectfully silent, waiting for whatever was going to happen next, and most of them weren't surprised when they heard Marshall yelling again. 'GODDAMN IT! I LEAVE YOU ALONE FOR TWO GODDAMN MINUTES, AND NOW THIS!' The Dalmation came storming through the crowd, growling. Ethan simply stared Chase down, his eyes showing the murderous intent in them. Marshall shoved Ethan away, pulling out his axe and glaring at him. Ethan returned the look.
'What did I tell you?' Marshall's voice was surprisingly calm and even, given that he was yelling not five seconds beforehand. Ethan didn't respond, instead sheathing his sword. 'Answer me, damnit.' Marshall's annoyance was obvious. Ethan shook his head and began to walk off. 'I did my half, Marsh. He's your problem now.'
Marshall growled in frustration. 'First Rocky runs off, now this. Great, all this is great.' He turned toward Chase, who was still lying on the ground, now caked entirely in mud. Marshall growled again, grabbing Chase and picking him up with one arm. The dalmatian threw him toward Boris and Callie. 'Get him cleaned up.' He shook his head. 'I've now got to go find Rocky and berate my brother.' He started walking down the street, muttering angrily to himself and shoving a few people out of his way. The rest politely stepped out of his way.
Callie sighed, while Boris picked Chase up off the ground, brushing him off slightly. 'I still don't understand why we don't just lock him up, Boris. Makes no sense to me.' The tabby glared daggers at Chase, who simply stared back, his wits and rage coming back to him. Boris offered no answer, instead gesturing for Chase and Callie to follow him. Chase was stubborn, and refused to move for a second, but a push from Callie got his legs working.
'What the hell do they want with me?'
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Marshall found Rocky in his workshop, tinkering with a modified crossbow he'd been working on for Callie. This didn't surprise Marshall one bit, as the mutt often did things like this when he was stressed or bored. He walked up behind Rocky, wrapping his arms around him and resting his head on the mutt's gray fur. Rocky kept working, not acknowledging Marshall at all. Marshall didn't mind.
Eventually, Rocky put down his things and leaned back in his chair. Marshall moved with him, his head not leaving Rocky's. Rocky sighed. Marshall simply smiled. 'You want to talk now?' Rocky just put his hands on Marshall's and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. Marshall understood. Company was all he wanted.
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Everest suddenly jolted awake, panting profusely and clutching her head. A massive headache was ripping through her head, and she had cramps almost everywhere in her body. The Husky groaned in pain, falling back into her pillow. She started upright again, panicking as she looked around the room. The same room she remembered being in, the strange vials of things on the shelves.
'You really shouldn't be moving right now.' Everest whipped her head around, finding the female mix breed she remembered helping, Skye, she remembered, with the wolf that had been injured. Ethan was his name, right? Everest groaned again. 'So it wasn't just a bad dream?'
Skye giggled. 'Trust me, I wish it was too. I've washed a lot of blood out of those sheets.' She walked into the room, placing a tray on the bedside table, on it a plate of assorted meats and a goblet of wine. 'Eat, it'll help with the pain.'
Everest picked up the tray, placing it on her lap and looking at it, picking at the meat. Skye laughed as she walked over, picked up a piece of roast beef, and popped in her mouth. 'Trust me, if anyone wanted you dead, you'd already be long gone. And you've got to try the wine.'
'I guess that makes sense….' Everest took a roll of white meat and tore a small piece from it, and as she chewed she came to realize it was pork. A favorite of hers.
She hesitantly spoke once she was done. 'But there is still one thing I want to know.'
Skye nodded, and Everest took that as the signal to ask. Everest took a moment to find the right words. 'Why did you specifically ask for me to help you?'
Skye nodded slowly, half expecting it. 'It's a long story, and frankly I don't think I have the right to tell you, but in summary you are a lot more unique than most people in the kingdoms. What you have is something that my wolf friend has looked for most of his life.'
Everest was confused, and Skye clearly saw this. The Cockapoo sighed. 'Look, pup, right now you're in an odd place, stuck between us wanting to trust you or kill you. I'd suggest not pushing your luck and just staying out of the way. Or if not, at least be helpful as you can.'
Skye clapped her hands and stood up. As she walked toward the door, the mixed breed turned around. 'Now, here's your first test. Stay here, don't move, and eat. I'll be back a little later.'
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Ethan slammed down his stein, this one being his third so far. He knocked the bar top, signaling for a refill. The bartender nodded, a tall elk from the Eastern forests. His brew was a special recipe, apparently able to make a person drunk faster. It never worked for Ethan, as he couldn't get drunk like other people could, and he somehow had one of the highest alcohol tolerances in all the kingdoms. It was a miracle his liver hadn't failed. The stein slid back in front of him, filled to the brim and plenty of foam. The wolf began to drink this one slowly, not downing it like he did the others.
The tavern was decently large, able to hold up to seventy occupants at a time on it's lower floor, and the rooms upstairs added to at least eighty persons at one time. It was usually never that full, unless it was a time of great celebration. Simple dark oak walls lined with lamps for illumination, and a great fireplace for the cold winters. Tables were placed in staggered rows, giving the feeling of imperfect perfection. A very kind and welcoming place, most had described it.
The elk, named Damian, walked back over to Ethan, a mug of his own in his hands. 'Got a reason to celebrate today, my wolfish friend?' Ethan just grunted and drank. Damian nodded, taking a sip of his drink. 'Saw the fight. That Shepherd's got skill, yeah?' Ethan didn't respond, again taking another drink.
The elk sighed. 'Usually you're more talkative, Ethan. The hell's wrong with you?'
Ethan slammed down his stein. 'Damn you Damian, I paid you for ale, not small talk.' The wolf had a hint of a growl behind his voice, and Damian took the clue. The elk raised his hands in mock surrender. 'Alright then. Have it your way.' He walked off to check his food stores and beer casks.
'Damn, what's got you in a mood?' Ethan sighed and rested his head on the rim of his stein when he heard Skye's voice again. The Cockapoo sat down on the stool next to him, waiting patiently for Damian to return.
Ethan looked up. 'Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on the Husky?' he grunted.
Skye chuckled. 'Gotta try to trust her sometime, right?' Ethan shrugged, sipping his ale. 'Why are you here now, then?' The wolf finally looked over at Skye, his ice blue eyes piercing hers.
'Alcohol, just like you.' Right as she said this, a mug of ale slid toward her. She looked up to Damian winking at her, before he walked off again. Skye shrugged and took a sip, deciding not to ask. She turned back toward Ethan. 'So, want to talk?' Ethan shook his head, taking another drink. The tavern was empty, except for them.
Enjoying the other's company, Skye and Ethan sat in their thoughts, thinking about what life had in store for them next.