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[ukan]

This is Lark Tennant, leave a message.

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Comments

[atowncalledtreffy]

the fuck is nutritious...

Yes, Lark. You hunt for fun and food. Can we do this thing or what?

[ukan]

Ass. Meet me there in ten.

[atowncalledtreffy]

Ten...

[God damn it he still needs to get some future phrasing down]

[ukan]

Minutes.

Never mind, head there and I'll meet you.

[atowncalledtreffy]

Sure, sure. On my way.

[ukan]

Lark shows up faster than he'd planned, meaning to get there first so he can program something in. He chooses a forest in Eastern Europe so Trevor can have familiar terrain, and makes the boar they're hunting a little smarter than average.

[atowncalledtreffy]

Trevor slinks in a few minutes later, curious about what he's going to use for a weapon since most of his were taken. His eyes widen when he sees familiar Carpathian mountains, before he shakes his head, coming over to Lark.

"Aaah. Fuck you." He says, in response to their atmosphere.

[ukan]

"I didn't want you getting lost." But actually Lark has never been anywhere so rugged. "Next time I'll show you my world."

[atowncalledtreffy]

"Hah. Fuck you. Again." Says Trevor, glancing around the woods like he expects to be attacked.

"When are we? Depending on the year, this might be overrun with night creatures soon."

[ukan]

He shakes his head. "I didn't program any monsters. We have bears--hibernating, so we can avoid them--deer, rabbits. And pig."

[atowncalledtreffy]

"They're part of the wilderness too." He grunts, unhappy he has no weapons, and walks over to the tree clearing to start breaking off good branches.

[ukan]

"Hey." Lark pulls a knife from under his coat. It's one of Alec's, so even if he trusted Trevor with it he'd be taking it back at the end of this. For now, though, Trevor needs to work off some steam and they have a boar to catch.

[atowncalledtreffy]

He glances back, and gives a note of gratitude.

"Don't suppose you've got anything bigger? Wild boars are mean as shit."

[ukan]

He pulls a bowie knife. "If you use this I have to go as a wolf. Any objections?"

[atowncalledtreffy]

Trevor lights up when he sees the knife.

"No? Alucard goes as a wolf all the time. Easier to space out in the carriage and warm too."

[ukan]

"Good. You don't mind carrying this," an empty backpack, "With my clothes in it?"

[atowncalledtreffy]

Trevor's forehead wrinkles from confusion as he takes the backpack from Lark. Alucard never had to lose his clothes before transforming and back, but maybe that's a different kind of magic.

"Yeah. No problem. What sort of a wolf goes around in trousers, anyway?"

[ukan]

"One without any self-respect. I look ridiculous when I don't get all the clothes off first." It's hard to say if he's joking or if, in fact, he has changed forms and been stuck with his pants on.

[atowncalledtreffy]

"Ah." Giving an acknowledging look, Trevor makes a little twirl with his fingers.

"Want me to turn around, give you privacy?"

[ukan]

"No I'll find a bush. Scout ahead a bit, would you? I'll catch up."

And he will, with his clothes neatly folded and in his mouth when he trots up, tail wagging.

[atowncalledtreffy]

Trevor does as asked, headed through the woods that feel familiar and alien together. He can never forget he's not actually home. He's still on the ship, still a prisoner despite his surroundings.

He crouches down to examine animal tracks, only to glance up when Lark trots up. Despite himself, Trevor finds himself smiling. He always loved dogs.

He opens the backpack and holds his hand out for Lark's clothing.

"Look at this handsome specter. Ready to hunt?"

[ukan]

He hands over the clothes and offers a bark of agreement, prancing on his front paws. He sniffs around the tracks, leads Trevor through the brush when the tracks reach hard ground.

[atowncalledtreffy]

Trevor zips up the bag and stands, following Lark into the brush. He goes quiet, soft-and-sure-footed as if he had velvet pads on his own feet. He doesn't exactly have weapons but that hardly stops him; he has hands and feet and Lark.

With Lark in the lead, Trevor hops up onto the rocky terrain as easily as any mountain goat.

[ukan]

He doesn't get to hunt very often, and when he does, it's always in the context of training his new pups some restraint. There's something primally satisfying about creeping through the woods with someone who moves as if he, too, was born for this.

He pauses, lifts his head to scent the wind, and makes a small sound so Trevor knows to follow him carefully to the small pond. There's a pig on the other side chewing berries off a bush.

[atowncalledtreffy]

At Lark's noise, Trevor settles himself upwind, lying on his stomach to lessen the chance of being seen by their prey. He eyes the pig, where it is and the age and size of it, before smiling a little. This all feels familiar but not as sad as most familiar things do.

Keeping his voice low and movements scarce, he points towards the path around the pond.

"Do you want to drive him? Or hold him? One noise for drive, two for hold." The Belmonts sometimes hunted wildlife with dogs; he's not sure which Lark would prefer.