---

For Tiberii

---

The loud grumble of an empty stomach woke Sylvie from her dream, and she could have cursed.

She looked around for the motherfucker who'd disturbed her rest, indigo eyes blazing with raw fury as every feather on her body stood out like the brush of a chimney sweep. Her frown deepened; whoever it was, they must have taken off quick, and rightly so because she was ready to whoop some a-

RRRRRRrrrrrRRR.

Sylvie looked down.

RrrrRRRRRRRRR.

Much to her surprise, the Motherfucker Who'd Disturbed Her Rest was right here, burbling hungrily from her own gut.

God damn it, she said. She'd been dreaming of tearing into the carcass of an elk calf, and apparently it had roused her appetite in response. It would've been impossible to go back to sleep like this - taking a short hop from her branch, Sylvie fluttered through the air, ungainly and awkward as she headed toward the ever-stocked cache of Fate's Respite. If there was one thing that fat silver bitch believed in, it was eating well, and although she still hoped death would take the woman early, Sylvie could give her that much.

Something else caught her attention.

A new scent - sweet, sweeter than the smell of rotting flesh, sweeter than the elk calf she had been buried neck-deep in during her dream. She struggled her way down toward its origin, finding a thick range of underbrush; an opening through the largest bush beckoned her nearer, ringed with little pink flowers as the delicious scent spoke of a promising meal within.

Landing on the ground with a hard thump, Sylvie didn't spare it a second thought before hopping through.

Skill:

---

Midnight was a time when Tiberii allowed her mind to rest, even if her body would not. She would go into stagnation, filtering out of her brain and into the more primal instincts that her body provided her. She would patrol. She would hunt. And she would do it with an empty brain, for the chill of the mountain air was the remedy to the emotional fire that burned within her.

And so, she would patrol, winding along the edges of Dawnbreak's territory with nothing in mind, driven only by the sharpness of her vision and the scents of the Alpines around her.

That was why it was so strange when it all ... shifted.

Without warning, Tiberii suddenly felt ... lost. Her massive paws would slow, her head lifting as she tilted her muzzle toward a starry sky. She'd traveled this path before, hadn't she? Millions of times, she was certain. So why did it look different? Why were the stars so bright? Why was the snow so ... warm?

She moved forward, noticing the way the trees shifted and bent, creating a circlet of bowing branches.

And she would narrow her gaze with suspicion.

What in tha ...

From beyond the tree arch, she could hear thumping. It was gentle but rhythmic, and it reminded her of footsteps. Her ears would tilt forward, her massive body taking a few ambling steps forward across the threshold. Oi! Someone there? She'd purse her lips, staring forward but not daring to make any sudden movements.

She didn't trust caves.

Little did she know, she'd already made her way into another one.

---

Sylvie had gone into a shallow bush, and had come out the other side into a completely different landscape.

She blinked.

This was not Fate's Respite. The nearest mountains were acres away, the lake had vanished, and there was a lot more snow than she remembered. Creeping forward, Sylvie craned her head, struggling to reconcile where she had been with where she now found herself - it didn't make any sense. The bush couldn't have been more than three feet deep. Where was her succulent meal? Where was home?

A voice called from nearby.

Yeah, she snapped, Yeah, someone is here. The fuck is this place?

Sylvie's frown deepened. Whoever it was, maybe they could tell her more about what had just happened. She set off quickly, so concerned with the question of where she was that she didn't stop to think of precisely in what fashion she was heading toward her destination.

She slowed to a stop.

Gods, Sylvie said. A gigantic female wolf stood in front of her - what was this thing, part cow? Listen, what can you tell me about this place? I just went through a bush and now I'm in the middle of Big Fucking Egypt, and I've just about had it up to here - she lifted a paw to her neck for emphasis.

A paw.

She lifted a paw.

Sylvie's eyes widened. Bile rose up in her throat.

Shaking, she held out the appendage in front of her, and recognized it to be for all intents and purpose's a wolf's fucking paw covered in - in feathers -

A river coursed nearby. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. She had to know. She had to see. Scrambling on legs that were meant to be talons, ears pressed against her head where only holes should have been, she reached the edge of the water and looked down.

An abomination stared back.

She whirled around to face the stranger.

KILL ME. KILL ME RIGHT NOW.

Skill:

---

The undergrowth rumbled, that same thumping that she'd heard originally growing louder. Louder ... louder ... until it arrived.

Tiberii backpedaled, but to her surprise, there was no opening behind her. No, there was just a plush wall of leaves and branches. The Aplines were gone. Dawnbreak — gone. And she could not retreat further away from whatever this thing was, forcing her to look forward at the shadow that neared.

It started with a voice, squaking and abnormal, chattering in a common tongue. But as Tiberii continued to stare, her eyes widened as the creature emerged. It was wolf-sized, quadrupedal, but ... something was definitely wrong. It looked haggard, fur entwined with feathers as the strange thing seemed to limp forward. And what was even more horrifying was the strange, sharp face.

Was that a beak?

What was that?

What WAS THAT?

Tiberii's eyes simply widened, the whites of her eyes visible around her iris as her jaw went slack. She didn't hear anything that the creature asked her. She only heard the horrible cries that it emitted, begging to be killed.

Tiberii's skin crawled. She was not sitting still.

She had absolutely no idea what to do.



Was she supposed to talk to it, or kill it?

---

During this brief yet terrible interaction, the pair hadn't noticed how the sky had gradually taken on a dusky pink hue. Songbirds crooned around them as a cascade of flower petals seemed to descent from apparently nowhere, and the sweet scent that had led them to this place permeated the air like a soft perfume. Wildflowers slowly curled their way up and out from the layer of snow they'd hidden themselves beneath as the landscape lit up with romantic delight.

It was beautiful.

It was idyllic.

Sylvie lurched forward like a creature straight out of the Black Lagoon.

PlEaSe... she begged, feathers quivering as the words fell from her beak, I cAn'T lIvE lIke ThIs...

The massive she-wolf in front of her seemed to panic. It appeared to be the sort of panic that left her completely inert, unable to speak, unable to move, and Sylvie paused in her dramatic crawl forward as she realized this bitch wasn't going to help her at all.

I said kill me, you fat cow, she said abruptly, all traces of being an eldritch horror gone from her tone. She just sounded annoyed. You think you're fucking upset? How do you think I feel? God, all wolves are so selfish. This is a goddamn waste of time.

Sylvie scowled, as much as a beak stapled to a wolf skull could scowl.

Can you at least tell me where I am, or where the nearest cliff is I can launch myself off of? This sucks enough without you making me feel even worse.