The vengeful watches the forest shift and sway with clear blue eyes that are brimmed by innocence. He is younger even than the hunter, lacking Knox's experience and steady step, but his hunger is easily sated. He drinks of the cold river water and eats of the dying grasses, accustomed to the poor and sour taste of meagre findings. At his side, Manhattan whines in quiet protest. She has not eaten in some time, and has grown tired of the scraps she and her master have chanced upon. Ever since the battle against Mandrake at the site of Darwin's birth, Manhattan has been increasingly exhausted. Venom fills her mouth and mixes with her saliva as she scents phantom wisps of prey. Each encounter is promising, ending in nothing but a false trail or a picked over corpse. As the days grow quickly colder, the prey begins to sleep and hide away, leaving the mutt and her true master filled with a rising, rancorous hunger.

Janos is at first too kind to give in to the anger that the hunger brings. He is patient and peaceful, not one to let his many weaknesses overwhelm him. But within, Knox bites at the bridle and begs for the taste of blood. Dovev's influence is great and Knox's own hunter's instinct is strong; the short and timid Janos would have lasted for days, but Knox desires for more.

Wrapped in the stocky, thick-coated body of Janos, Knox leads his companion onwards into the territory of the Windtossed Foothills, bracing them against the cold and keeping an sharp eye out for prey. It is Manhattan that makes their first discovery, but it is nothing the pair might feast upon. Buried by the foot of the tree, resting in a nest of woven grass, the dog finds a glittering stone. Her call to her master is short but clear; Knox trots forth on short, pony limbs towards his friend's discovery.

He recognizes the amulet instantly, having seen one of similar mark on his fellows in the herd. As he bends to brush it, it fastens easily, neatly, and by some magic to the ring of Janos' white bridle—the bridle that still shines somehow fresh with the blood of Huric, whose shredded remains rest still in the old country, years and miles apart. Janos would have stayed, perhaps rested in solemn silence beneath the boughs of the tree which has gifted him so, but Manhattan moves onward. He watches as she runs, determined and catching the scent of another creature—another lonely beast out in this wasteland of coming winter.

The shadow of the stranger is faint, a mere rustle in the grass and a faint inclination of company. Janos trails behind Knox's confident companion, his body tense with characteristic fears. He was told once it was cowardice. He does not like to think himself a coward.

But it is impossible to deny the spike of panic that rises in his breast at the sight of the creature before him. Manhattan circles back to her master, flashing him images and sending him warnings of the leopard up ahead. She and Knox may be starved, but they know better than to approach the creature rashly. Skulking forth but urged foolishly to be brave, even at such a time as this, Janos' body trembles forward to meet that of the cat perched upon the boulder.

"Hello?" Fatherly Anaan urges his son forward, coaxing the terror from his tones so that when he speaks again, it is with more confidence, and bolstered by his late brother's boldness. "Are you alone?" The question is clear and kind, stemming from noble Huric's good intentions. Manhattan circles the body of the light draft nervously, sniffing the earth and hoping to pick up the scent of prey, so that they might move on, but Knox and his ancestors stay still. With any luck, the cat's intentions are as good as his.

[[This post is... crap. Not my or Knox's usual. I apologize sincerely. For the record, knos is using his shapeshifting magic, and has taken the form of Janos. Not planning on using it, but do I have permission to use Knox's blinding magic on Donai if the situation arises? It would be impermanent. ]]

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