Post #2817922 in Impending Pursuit, a roleplay on RPG

In the Company of Wolves

Note: This post was written collaboratively and then reformatted with approval from both parties.

Towering a full foot above Ljilja was a lupine competitor adorned in white, whose elegant attire belied her violent nature. Animalistic, black-tipped ears stood alert upon her head, their fur blending seamlessly with bushy silver hair. Her once claw-like nails were filed down to smooth tips, and her rough-soled feet were forced into heeled boots, but her confident stance and posture displayed that she knew well the disparity of strength between herself and the miniscule girl before her.

She called out to Ljilja over the din of the music. “Hey. Why is a kid here?"

The young girl froze in place, looking up to her accuser. She sniffled, her bright blue eyes made red and puffy by the exchange she had with her manager minutes prior. She lacked the willpower to bluster in reply—grandstanding was for the more vicious competitors—neither did she possess the stature to support a proper retort.

“I…um…s-same as you…my number got picked,” she stammered, averting her eyes and folding her hands near the hem of her dress.

It was a fair question. Most of the other competitors were larger, older, stronger; even those smaller than her wore viciousness like a familiar garment to ward against those who would look down on them or see them as easy prey. However, none of them seemed as peculiarly vulnerable as Ljilja. She was an anomaly among mutants, without a doubt the ostensibly weakest competitor. Was that why she had tried to leave; why her manager was not courting sponsors like the others; why she now stood alone?

Ljilja stood meekly, instinctively bunching her shoulders inward to appear even smaller under the scrutiny of her foe, who leaned forward and narrowed her eyes to examine her more closely. “I thought there was an age minimum,” she remarked.

Ljilja sniffled again, unable to muster a proper reply. Her gaze went to her little blue flats as her head and heart sunk. This is it, she thought, I'm finished...

Not receiving an answer, the mercenary continued. “What’s your name, kid?”

Gripping fistfuls of her skirt for strength, she timidly answered, “Ljilja,” following up with a polite “May I ask yours?”

The tall mercenary swished her fluffy tail to and fro in thought, standing up straight and putting her hands on her hips. After a pause that felt like an eternity, she replied, “Scout.”

“That’s a cool name.”

The music in the background changed, and the tone of the conversation with it. People rarely issued compliments to Scout, and when they did, it was usually in spite or fearful admiration. What’s more, it was an outlier’s opinion—most regarded her name as ‘silly’ or ‘stupid,’ not so much a name as it was a word.

“Nice to meet you,” Ljilja added with a nervous curtsy.

It would have been easy to end the conversation on a whim and walk away, but a strange curiosity in Scout’s chest anchored her to Ljilja, who seemed utterly defenseless. It was not, after all, out of fear or respect that Scout approached her. But what, then, was her aim?

“Where are you from?” Scout inquired.

As Ljilja’s sniffles died down, the faintest hint of a smile formed across her face. A little spark returned to her eyes as she angled her head up to gaze at her fellow competitor. “MC-4008. But…we just call it Fort Kate. It’s a mountain-island out in the ocean,” Ljilja answered.

“Never heard of it,” Scout curtly replied. Briefly, she wondered what such a place would be like, and bristled at the thought of mist-soaked cliffs and rocky shores. To say Scout was not fond of water would be putting it very lightly.

The worry and anxiety in Ljilja's eyes faded as the conversation built momentum. “What about you? Where are you from?”

“The Wastes—” Scout explained, her vocabulary, as always, getting right to the point. “A Dead City called Ertha. It's near...where those big triangles were.”

“Oh, the Pyramids! My dad told me stories about those when I was little,” Ljilja piped up eagerly.

“Yeah, those.” Scout felt foolish for not recalling the name of such a defining detail about her homeland. It wasn’t that she had forgotten, but…something about this little creature was occupying her mind. She’d seen similar looks on the faces of children she’d rescued or orphaned, recalling the wideness of their eyes from cover as she slaughtered their keepers. Scout never used to wonder what happened to those young ones when her job was complete—why is it that she could not help thinking about them now?

An unexpected line of questioning pulled Scout from her thoughts. “Are they really gone? What’s it like at Ertha? How do you get water out there?”

Scout scratched her cheek, surprised that Ljilja was still talking with her, much less showing interest. “Yeah, they’re gone,” she replied. Suddenly, Scout found herself to be the one avoiding eye contact, withered from Ljilja’s inquisitive peppering. “It’s tall; Ertha,” Scout explained, gesturing wide with her arms, “it’s built upwards, like most of the cities. It goes beneath the ground, too—that’s where our water comes from. There are pipes that carry it all throughout the city, but water is scarce and expensive.”

As Scout spoke, Ljilja gave nods and hums of confirmation to assure she was interested and paying attention. The music changed before she had an opportunity to reply. This new song was louder and far more annoying than the last, forcing Ljilja to speak up. “That’s really cool! I mean the pipes, not…water being hard to find. Um, do you maybe want to talk somewhere quieter?” she suggested.

“Yes!” Scout declared a bit too enthusiastically, her tail swishing suddenly, eager to leave the noise and retreat to a place that wouldn’t hurt her ears. It brought a warm smile to Ljilja’s face, and a reserved grin to Scout’s in return.

Ljilja reached her hand out to take Scout’s, then froze and retracted it with an apologetic bow. This wasn’t Fort Kate—she could not be certain her new friend would react well to such a forward and friendly gesture. It seemed she made the right choice, as Scout visibly recoiled in response to her approaching hand. Ljilja remorsefully balled her little palm into a fist and murmured a “Sorry” to cover her indiscretion.

“Where should we go?” Scout asked.

“Anywhere but here!” Ljilja answered before skittering off in an arbitrary direction away from the foyer. She hoped Scout would follow.

Snippet #2817922

located in Father, a part of Impending Pursuit, one of the many universes on RPG.

Setting

Characters Present

Footnotes