---

The day greeted her warmly, something of a peaceful reverence that woke the goddess from slumber and unto the world. Small winter birds chirping in the trees, sounding like little singers. She travels for a fair bit, nose sniffing around for whatever could possibly interest the immortal heart. She stops occasionally to eat a berry or two, sometimes to catch a drink from gently flowing streams. She's careful not to let her fur dip into the water, small movements of a paw and a lick of her tongue keeps it dry.

Shaking out her neck fur, it moves after the rest of her. Delayed by its enormity and looseness. The woman finally stops now, stretching in the heat of a cold sun. The snow melted off a rock here, she sees such a nice place to lay. The goddess couldn't possibly have been expected to control herself and not lay there, it was as if the mother earth herself had made this bed for her. Her paws step upon the warmed stone gingerly before she finally makes the heaping step up.

It doesn't take the large woman very long to do a spin or two before flopping down onto the stone with a heave. She takes in air and then lets it out slowly, her muscles relaxing as the breath leaves her. Her eyelids hang heavy for a small while before she finally allows them to close. Even though it's early, the goddess is still able to sleep.

The wilderness had not been kind to someone used to stealing extra eggs or cows milk from the farmer. Used to getting scraps after butcher day.
She’d been a good dog, she’d done her best on the farm and now it was nothing short of a cold memory. Her paws pressed forward, worn and cracked. Dried out by the cold.
Her shoulders and hips ached to stop wondering.
She’d been in the cold for a year, had learned to hunt well enough that she was still alive. However she was not wild, she had learned that quickly.
She was no wolf. She was a dog, a pet.
She hesitated to kill, hesitated to chase because she’d been drilled for it to be bad.
Her whole life had taught her everything about what she was doing to be bad.
She was a bad dog.

She trudged forward, nose to the ground. Her tongue lolled out the side of her mouth, short pants leaving her lungs as she grew tired.
She paused, taking note of the much larger pawprints. Almost triple the size of her own. She’d met a wolf once, had avoided any others after that experience.
He’d been in awe of her, a pet. He’d been content to have her as that, his pet. His property. Had taught her about the wild, that wolves craved to own things and that dogs needed owners.

However, the scent gave away this was not a male. She stepped forward, hesitantly following the path.

---

The pattering of paws in gently melting snow rolled her eyes slowly open, their green meeting the green of the trees. Lifting her head, it pulled to look towards the sound. Fur only slightly disheveled by her napping. Her lids hung heavy and the massive bear-like woman looked as though not a single drop of fear pooled in her heart.

She subtly stretched, just enough to wake herself up a bit more. A chuff exiting her lungs, a kind of communication that excited the waking goddess. So fun it was to play this fairytale, to play pretend as a wolf was much more fun that just laying around in her godly form. Listening to the woes of mortals and the occasional Irishmen asking for her hand in marriage. It was silly to watch her brothers chase them off, though boring after the 100th time.

Within her gold-rimmed vision was the figure of a hunting hound. She recognized its' smooth, lanky body and long snout. It reminded her of the Scottish Deerhounds she was rather fond with. Yet sitting in this body, her mind view the dog differently. She had always had a way with certain beasts, but this time it felt different.

Wee pup, why ye wonder so? No master heed your name? The goddess' welsh accent dripped off her tongue like dew off a leaf.

The voice brought her head up, shaking snow from her whiskers. Her gaze scanned the massive wolf, certainly the largest she’d seen. With a pelt colored like sunlight over snow.
Her hackles raised slightly.
She swallowed her pride, her need to turn her snout and snarl.
“I’m on my own” a statement she knew was stupid to say. Wolves looked for those stranded. The young, the sick, the old. Those made the best prey. “I have no master” her lip curled in a slight snarl. Not directly at the goddess but at the situation itself.

She could be as free as any wolf and she’d prove it. She didn’t need owned or commanded. She’d been living so far with no command, making her own decisions. Maybe she was stubborn, but even wolves followed orders. Packs.

She’d be greater than a wolf. Completely free.

Completely opposite of the wolves accent, her voice was laced in a southern call. The type of voice that didn’t stutter or hesitate. She spoke like she was assured in every word. Strong and confident. Given the right words to say, the right situation there was no question her voice could demand respect and control.

---

The goddess' eyes narrowed at the stray dog, but not in a suspicious way. She analyzed the dog the same way one analyzed a powerful untamed horse. Something wonderful and free, stronger than just the legs it stood on or the muscles that powered them. Yet this dog was no muscle, skin and bone more like. Branwen's gaze softened into milk, if not for the shiny green of her eye and smokiness of their lids.

The dog's words ignited even the lazy goddess' heart. Branwen recalled her first marriage in those fleeting seconds. She, too, would have no master again, no free being was deserving of being enslaved. Especially not her. She was coy, yet, and did not so clearly state her kinship to the dog. Instead, she chose to play along carefully.

Bein' free ner meant bein' loveless. The massive she-wolf's voice purred in her chest, low and sultry like boiled cream.

Or erye owned to yourself as weel? She questioned, hoping to ignite a reaction.

Fish couldn’t help but scoff at the words. Shaking her head. Clumps of snow had balled into her fur into tight Mats . “Have you ever met a man?” Her nose scrunched. “They’re as spoiled as a fat house cat, they’re entitled to the world” as odd as this wolf was, it was the first conversation she’d held in awhile.
It was refreshing to finally have someone else to talk to. You’d get tired of your own voice after awhile, even if it was the only thing keeping you sane. Wolves, dogs, both were social creatures, they craved that stimulation. Craved another company, platonic or not. Familiar, romantic. Simply needed socialization. Being alone was maddening, with only the reality of survival to keep her sane.
“All men are the same, forgive my language but they all think with their dick and nothing more” she stretched out, pressing her paws into the snow. She’d have all day to travel, to find food and shelter for the coming night. There was no harm in diddy dallying for a moment.

---

It appeared that the Goddess' intuition was correct, for how could it be wrong when it came to topics of her domain. She knew what a lost soul looked like, even if it's features were that of a dog.

She listened along to the dog, giving her room to speak. If the number of words that were so easily given to the sleepy goddess weren't enough of a tell, it seemed this hound also stayed her paws. If even for a moment. This was no surprised to Branwen, many mortal beings were found captured in her presence.

A giggle, feminine and resounding, bubbled up from her chest in gentle spurts. The heavenly soul appeared to be rather amused by the dog's take on men. Though it was in her place to disagree, Branwen couldn't help but see the truth. Goddess of Love and Beauty herself was even slighted by a man, perhaps it was of their defaulted nature.

She thought for a moment, her expression animated and thinking.
n who claim it if ever tha love must come from a man? She purred. The goddess stood finally on four massive legs. Stretching over the rock that, when completely splayed in this way, couldn't fit her. A massive paw hung over it's edge before it took the lead in her approach to the dog. She dared not invade it's space, she knew her size would scare it off. Instead she sat again, her patient heart and warm eyes hopefully beckoning the dog ever closer.