Layre moved with quiet purpose. The gentle step of hardened warrior in repose. Blue eyes slid to the horizon as oranges and reds bled into the day. Clouds covering only, but the edges. He was inbetween times. He had always preferred early morning and late nights. When the world was silent. But then again, it was also the time that nightmares come to call.

Russet muzzle lifting to draw in the deep scent of flowers in bloom. Heavy with dewdrops and sun beams. Flick of tattered ear. A twist of paw. Wolves were here, but where.

Ever vigilant he moved about.

[he is a very large man. he is a very tall man. and he decidedly is not one of her own. kaede does not know why she approaches. she asks Clover to stay back for now. the others had barely tolerated him. this wolf could easily kill her kouri (attendant) if he wanted. clover has showed the lady nothing but his soft loyalty and the intelligence of his pretty eyes. she will not have him harmed. low bows the silkwolf. she does not speak. it would be useless, she feels, already assuming that he would know nothing about her. but in her eyes, a pleading breaks through the primrose pride. kaede knows what she is: a conduit for a man's power.]

he is a very large man.

he is a very tall man.

and he decidedly is not one of her own.

kaede does not know why she approaches. she asks Clover to stay back for now. the others had barely tolerated him. this wolf could easily kill her kouri (attendant) if he wanted. clover has showed the lady nothing but his soft loyalty and the intelligence of his pretty eyes. she will not have him harmed.

low bows the silkwolf.

she does not speak. it would be useless, she feels, already assuming that he would know nothing about her.

but in her eyes, a pleading breaks through the primrose pride. kaede knows what she is: a conduit for a man's power.

cameo for now heh

---

ryūjirō worked the bone slowly between his teeth, the scraping rhythm low and steady, a sound too small to be noticed over the hush of the grass and the low croak of waking crows. he had seen them before they had seen each other — the big stranger moving like a blade sheathed in patience, and kaede, drawn toward him like a moth that knew better but burned anyway. he did not move from the shadowed thicket where he crouched. did not announce himself. ryūjirō was a man built for the spaces between moments — for the unseen glances, for the measured breaths before blood hit the dirt. he watched. he bone creaked against his molars, splintering in hairline cracks. his blackened gaze dragged over the male — assessing weight, posture, kill-shape — then flicked back to kaede, the way she bowed, the way the pride flickered and trembled behind her slender spine. he saw it all. the way she offered herself like a blade meant for another's hand. ryūjirō spat a thin shard of marrow into the grass at his feet, tongue pressing against the raw edge where the bone had split. his expression did not change. it never did. but a slow, dark thought curled cold in his gut. he would watch. and if the male moved wrong — if he so much as breathed wrong — ryūjirō would carve his lesson into flesh before the stranger ever understood he'd been judged.

Layre was not alone. And the fur along his spine rose. A tilt of tattered ear, the blowing if air from snout. He listened and observed. A small thing, weighted with the world. Ribs sticking from her insides. She approached. And slunk low.

A small flame of pity rise in his chest and it burned there. He was not a man who rode his emotions. More they came and he moved from them. But he was in a new place. The bite of tragedy still tearing at his hide.

Perhaps he was tired of keeping lodgings with the dead. Or maybe just maybe he didn't want to watch another die in front of him.

You hungry?

He found himself asking the tiny lithe creature.

[the red stranger speaks. kaede can feel the pressure of eyes on her spine. it annoys her, but still she keeps herself lowered. of course she and this man cannot speak to each other. a paw nestles at her chest. "kaede-san." even if he cannot understand her title, he will say it. kaede-san. lady. noble. respectable. she must secure a place with appreciation for such titles. she cannot hunt and she cannot protect clover if she is alone. through her lashes she glances up, seeking to capture his eyes for a tiny moment. men protect that which they find beautiful. kaede for now is a bauble.]

the red stranger speaks.

kaede can feel the pressure of eyes on her spine. it annoys her, but still she keeps herself lowered.

of course she and this man cannot speak to each other.

a paw nestles at her chest. "kaede-san." even if he cannot understand her title, he will say it. kaede-san. lady. noble. respectable.

she must secure a place with appreciation for such titles. she cannot hunt and she cannot protect clover if she is alone.

through her lashes she glances up, seeking to capture his eyes for a tiny moment.

men protect that which they find beautiful. kaede for now is a bauble.

Layre lifts his gaze to the forest. A prickle of unease. He was a soldier. As such he knew they were being watched, but he was unable to pinpoint in terrain he didn't know yet. A snaked a tongue along fang thinking.

The little face can't speak his language he'd wager. Well that was okay. He had been around those of differenong tongues before.

He blinks. Kaede-san the foreign lilt of it felt odd on his tongue. Not unpleasant just different. He pressed a large paw to his own.

Layre

She wasn't an ugly little thing, but he wasn't entirely in the market. But he could at least get her something to eat. He motioned to his mouth and then pointed nose up to a bird.

Food?

[it takes some small time before kaede understands. her posture relaxes imperceptibly. he wishes to bring her sustenance. she nods, bows again, and moves softly to sit. she will wait for him, says the expression upon her face before she lowers it again. while layre is gone, kaede means to gather berries for him. slowly, as to keep her fur from staining. her gaze skims the foliage. her stance invites him back. kaede does not speak. she is not quite warm. and yet it is clear she is willing to follow, their transaction sealed by hot blood.]

it takes some small time before kaede understands.

her posture relaxes imperceptibly. he wishes to bring her sustenance. she nods, bows again, and moves softly to sit. she will wait for him, says the expression upon her face before she lowers it again.

while layre is gone, kaede means to gather berries for him. slowly, as to keep her fur from staining.

her gaze skims the foliage.

her stance invites him back. kaede does not speak. she is not quite warm.

and yet it is clear she is willing to follow, their transaction sealed by hot blood.

Hiding was easy enough. He had managed to do it most of his life, and he could do it now.

The man she approached was big. Much bigger than Kaede, and the fox would be lying if he did not admit that it put him on edge. He would be helpless to stop anything from going south, if it went south.

He could not make out what was being said, aside from the word food. It was strange to hear his original tongue once again. Almost jarring.

Layre shifted and pressed russet paws into the dirt. Leaving deep set prints in his wake. Nose to the underbrush. He couldn't get her a full meal right this second. But a hare or two he figured wouldn't be to hard.

A sound beneath the loam. Small breaking and a rush forward to grasp one then two hares. Crunching down hard. He carried them back the way he'd come.

Blue eyes falling on the she wolf and the presenting of berries. A small twitch of maw. Almost a smile, but not quite.

[blackberries. the juice has stained her paws, and kaede is filled with dismay. how can one hope to keep clean without a court? without protection? she is not made for the flimsy existence of a forest wife. she is a noble whose samurai have deserted her. kaede does not long for masa, but there is some wish in her that he is here, present, robust, vital. when layre returns, it is with a wealth of food. but kaede is not sure how to begin with the butchering. "thank you," she murmurs all the same.]

blackberries.

the juice has stained her paws, and kaede is filled with dismay.

how can one hope to keep clean without a court? without protection?

she is not made for the flimsy existence of a forest wife. she is a noble whose samurai have deserted her.

kaede does not long for masa, but there is some wish in her that he is here, present, robust, vital.

when layre returns, it is with a wealth of food.

but kaede is not sure how to begin with the butchering.

"thank you," she murmurs all the same.