An animal dwelled beneath the skin of most high fae. A reminder, even as they enjoyed more and more worldly and mortal comforts, of where they had come from. Lucien's friend could take many different forms. A shapeshifting gift that let him don claws or talons or paws as he willed. He could even extend that ability to shift the appearance of others if he wanted. But Lucien's current form was one of his own. The only other he could take using only his own magic. Russet fur and sharp clever eyes that had reminded him of the mask that had been bound to his face not too long ago. The reflection as he passed running water revealed that even the fox that dwelt within Lucien had not been spared from the vicious scarring across his eye. He wasn't sure when he had crossed into the mortal lands. Wasn't sure how he had missed crossing the wall and left the Spring Court. Tamlin was… preoccupied after Lucien had reported back after failing to get Feyre back. And Lucien was finding other places to be for a bit. He would let Tamlin have the space he needed, while he dealt with his own hurt. Feyre was his friend, wasn't she? He'd done what he could to help her.
Not enough. The words echoed in his ears and he felt himself whine as those two words scraped against old wounds. Not enough to fight off his brothers. Not enough to save Jesminda. Not enough to protect himself from Amarantha. And now… not enough to make Tamlin see what was happening to Feyre. What they were doing to her. And maybe it was those thoughts that distracted him for just a second too long. That let the snare that he should have been able to detect snap tight around his back leg. He let out a loud yelp as the snare pulled him into the air, the thinner more delicate parts snapped in places, not built for something his size. A snare for rabbits or hares, not foxes. The sharp edges snagged on and bit into his smaller body. He focused for a second before panic gripped him. Why can't I shift back?! Alarm roared through him as he tried to will the shift. He tried again. And again and again and again. He thrashed painfully as he tried to brute force the magic into place and get back to normal. He couldn't be stuck like this. He couldn't! How had he even gotten caught like this?! What kind of high fae could get caught in a mortal hunting snare?!
He sensed the movement before he heard the branches snap around a pair of horses. Two mortal men rode toward him. The grey-eyed older man had a sour face that was well-worn with age, and the other was significantly younger with plain brown hair and blue eyes. The old man scowled at Lucien but there was sympathy in the young man's eyes. Hunters maybe? Come to check their traps?
"Leave it." The old man tugged at his horse's reins, content to leave what looked like just another fox to suffer in a broken trap while he got back to whatever he had been doing before.
"Father, surely we can spare a moment to-" The young man's protests were interrupted by his father's harsh glare, "Move along Graysen. This is a waste of our time." The young man, Graysen, looked inclined to follow his father's orders until more rustling shook the foliage behind them. Lucien paused as the woman emerged, snow dusting her shoulders and the top of her head, setting her brown-gold hair shimmering in the uneven sunlight. Not even for a second did he think this woman was Feyre. Not with that unmistakable softness to her face, the warm chocolate brown eyes, and her ears… petite and rounded where Feyre's resembled any other high fae's. Those eyes widened as she saw Lucien and she practically threw herself off her horse.
"Graysen we have to help it." She urged and the young man reached for her arm. "Elain, please. I told you to wait back there, we're too close to the wall as it is…" He cast a wary look around them and he jolted with shock when Elain pulled the dagger from his side and used it to start cutting through the broken trap. "You poor thing… It's alright, we're going to get you out of there." Lucien looked back at the old man. At the stiff posture and at the plain iron sword he carried. Considering the harsh look that man cast in the direction of the wall… Lucien would have been truly stupid to shift into any form with him around. He was lucky that the man didn't look too closely at the injured fox that Lucien appeared to be. The trap went slack and Elain pulled Lucien into her arms before he fell to the forest floor. "Elain, that's a wild animal." Graysen insisted but she frowned. "It's hurt. I can't very well leave it like this." She cradled Lucien in one arm and used the other to pull herself back up into her saddle. Elain… Not Feyre but one of her sisters. Kind Elain who tended gardens and charmed everyone with her kind soul. He should still be moving. Flailing around to find a way to get down and retreat. Even if he had to limp away. But his limbs were frozen and he could not argue as Elain Archeron wrapped her cloak around them both and ushered her horse into a gallop, away from the wall and further into the mortal lands. This is not going to end well. Lucien thought to himself, even as he curled deeper into the warmth of Elain's cloak.