Nights in Rhy'Din were not for the faint of heart, especially if you were of the mortal variety. While the city streets could bode their own share of danger, outside the city limits was where the wild things roamed free. Even moonlit nights were darker there, where the woods grew thick with trees. Few but the bravest of souls dared venture into the woods at night, but hunters and those who called those woods home.

You did not necessarily have to be brave to venture into the woods, but unless you were well equipped, you were simply committing suicide, especially in the dead of winter. For one such soul, the wilds were home, and he had long since learned to make the most of their whimsy for his comfort. He had no need of a fire to keep warm when he had a warm pelt to wrap about himself, but only an idiot sleeps deeply when the wild hunters are out and about. He dozed, a seemingly harmless man wrapped up in a fur cloak, sat upright against a wide tree trunk in a dell protected from the snow by the heavy canopy above.

There were those who wandered these woods at night, some of them wild things and some only seemingly wild. There were those who hunted out of necessity and those who did it for sport, and then there were those who were only protecting what was theirs from those who might plunder and destroy it for their own purposes. One such soul often wandered these woods by night, a solitary creature who was as much at home in the woods as she was in the city. The woods, however, were her sanctuary, and the place she went to when she craved peace and solitude from the chaos of the city. It was on a night such as this that she roamed the woods, catching scent of an outsider, an intruder, someone who belonged and yet did not belong there.

What she found was a male, seemingly human in shape but not quite human in scent, that scent almost disguised by the bear pelt he wore wrapped about himself to keep out the chill, casting his face into shadow. A pack sat beside him where he dozed, the only belongings he seemed to carry with him at all. If anything, he seemed like easy pickings to a predator on the prowl.

Ah, but she was not the kind of predator who hunted humans or enjoyed the taste of human flesh. Only when they posed a threat did they need fear her, but past experience with hunters had her wary and untrusting of their kind. She kept her distance as she circled him, a keen sense of smell noting something strange and yet strangely familiar about him. He was not a normal human, and yet, for some reason, he had ventured into her woods.

The seemingly sleeping man opened his eyes as she passed through his line of sight, but his eyes were the only part of him that moved. His own sense of smell was not as acute right now as it would have been at another time, but it was sharp enough to tell him that this was no mere tiger stalking him in his sleep. "If I were to promise to leave in the morning and never come back, would you stop circling me like a particularly tasty piece of meat and go away?" he asked politely, his voice low and oddly soothing in tone.

It was hard to tell, but the big cat seemed almost amused with his words, as much of it as she understood. What she did understand was that he had made no threatening movements nor did she sense any danger from him. Still, she could not afford to be wrong, and it was better safe than sorry. She answered him with a growl, low in her throat, but whether it was a warning or a greeting, it was hard to say. She stopped her circling, coming to a halt not far from where he sat, quietly and warily watching.

He considered her for a long moment from the shadows of his pelt. "I'll take that as a no, then," he said calmly, still not moving as he sighed quietly. "If you want to size me up, you could come over here and do it. I won't hurt you unless you threaten me."

Whether she was amused or merely curious was hard to say, but she wasn't about to get too close to him just yet. Instead, she lay down across from him and merely observed him quietly with large, intelligent amber eyes, as if to show him she was no threat, unless he forced her hand.

He drew in a slow breath, considering her just as she considered him. "Unusual to see a tiger like you in these parts," he said conversationally. It was obvious that he was not going to even pretend to be asleep while she was there; he was a hunter, and it didn't take much out here for the hunter to become the hunted. "I've seen a white tiger every so often, but that one keeps to themselves. A were needing to work off steam, I'd say. Now you ....you're a were, but there's something different about you, too. Not all cat, are you?"

She went about licking a paw, like a housecat might, either unimpressed by his insight or merely pretending at being aloof. It was hard to say if she understood him while wearing this form, but there was an intelligence in her eyes that told him she was more than she seemed. Not everyone was able to recognize it, but it was there, and he seemed to have noticed it somehow. That, in itself, intrigued her, though it was hard to tell with her licking her paw as she was.

"So, this is how we're spending the night, is it?" he asked, apparently amused by her display of indifference. "You're going to sit there and keep me too on edge to sleep, and I'm going to talk nonsense to keep you entertained until the sun rises and I have to check my traps. Yes?"

She wouldn't have bothered to respond to those questions, even if she could, too intent for the moment on preening, as if nothing else in the world was important but grooming her fur. She was a cat, after all, albeit a big one. Her apparent indifference seemed to prove him right, though what would happen if he tried to leave was hard to say. She had a reason for being there, even if she could not tell him what it was.

"Of course, if I'm talking, I can't listen for anything else approaching," he pointed out, still speaking in that low, soothing tone, amused himself by her insistence on grooming while keeping him aware of her presence. "But I'm sure you can do the listening for both of us. Admittedly, you may not tell me what you hear, but I can climb this tree at a push."

If he could go all night talking, she could go all night grooming, and that's the way things went for over an hour while the moon rose higher in the sky - not yet full - casting an eerie mix of light and shadow through the forest. It was as if the pair were at an impasse, neither willing to give any ground, at least while the moon ruled the night. And then, suddenly, she lifted her head, ears flicking briefly as she rose from the ground. Her tail flicked, as if in warning, and she gave a low growl, her head turned away from the man to peer into the darkness.

He did speak utter nonsense - as promised - filling the silence between them with the sound of his own voice as the night wore on. Until she stiffened, and his voice died away, his head cocking to seek out the sound that had alarmed her. A frown crossed his brow, and he eased gently from where he sat, unwrapping the pelt from about himself to reveal that he had been covering her with a small crossbow the whole time. He was well-armed, even for a hunter, but moved as silently as a human body could manage, settling his pack inside the pelt against the tree trunk until it looked very much as he had done when he was in there. His eyes turned to the tiger. "Shhh," he breathed to her. "Stay low, stay out of sight. All they'll see in you is a rich payday." He winked at her, a flash of an exhilarated grin crossing his face as he stepped back into the deeper shadows of the forest, melting away like the hunter that he was.

He wasn't looking. If he had been whole, he would have looked, and enjoyed what he saw, but despite the accelerated healing his birthright had gifted him with, he was in too much pain to be inclined toward gawking at a pretty girl in the darkness. Reaching the dell, he swore under his breath as he hoisted his pack up onto his shoulder, feeling what little scab was forming over his injury break with the motion. It would appear that being independent was not only a feline trait.

She followed, padding through the forest she knew and loved so well as silently as her feline counterpart, a small, almost amused smile on her face to see him stubbornly struggle with the pack, knowing he was injured and in pain. "As stubborn as you are stupid," she remarked coolly, but there was no accusation in her voice or her words.

Grimacing, he finally turned his head to look at her through a haze of pain. "As stupid as you are beautiful," he countered, almost pleasantly but for the heavy undertone of discomfort in his voice. "I realize this must be highly entertaining for you, but I do not perform for anyone's amusement. Help or hinder, but don't think I'll thank you for standing by and watching me in weakness."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she warned him, that flash of amusement glittering in her eyes, fading quickly at the bitter sarcasm in his voice. She might have offered more help, if not for the obvious rancor in his voice. So, he'd had a hard life. She knew what that was like, but she had not been to blame; she had, in fact, come here to help, but if he couldn't see what was right before his eyes, she wasn't about to explain it to him. "There is shelter not far from here. Follow or don't. I leave the choice up to you." And without another word, she strode off into the woods, leaving the choice and decision up to him.

She was obviously as unused to people as he was. He paused, snorting with laughter at how quickly she took offence at the words of a man in pain. "Charming company, I see. Will you make me watch you bathe in this form as well?" he asked, watching her stride away. He wasn't going to be able to keep up with her, he knew that, but he had her scent now. He'd find his way by that.

She might have replied, had she remained behind long enough. Her own tongue could be as sharp as his, though her heart was far more tender than she'd ever let on. She didn't have to glance behind her to know he had followed - he reeked from a mile away, smelling like a mix of man and wolf and bear. All her senses warned her he was going to be trouble, but there was something about him that called to some part of her soul, and despite her fears, she had decided to help him, if he wanted her help.

She led him through the woods, never looking back to see if he followed, to a small clearing where someone had built a rustic cabin, hidden among the trees beside a babbling brook. It didn't look like much from the outside, but it promised warmth and shelter from the cold. She could just be seen making some sort of motion with a hand as she neared the place, only then turning back to wait for his approach. "This place is warded. You'll be safe here."

It took him a while to catch up to her, only to find himself at a cabin he had never known was on this patch of land. He leaned against a tree, breathless with the exertion, and blinked in surprise. "Good wards," he complimented her. "Never knew it was here." He gritted his teeth, more against what he was about to say than because of the pain. "Could ....could you take my pack, please" I am ....having a little difficulty here."

"You were never meant to know, but you will know now," she remarked, knowing he'd understand the trust she had just put in him and hoping it was not misplaced. Rather than laugh or chide him again for being stubborn, she only frowned at his request for help. She would have helped him sooner, if only he hadn't been so stubbornly acerbic. It was hard to tell from the look on her face if the frown was one of concern or annoyance, but she did as he asked, moving closer to slid the pack from his back and sling it over one shoulder. It was far heavier than it looked, but they had arrived at their destination. "What do you have stowed away in here" Rocks?" she asked with a sarcastic touch of her own as she turned back to the door and pushed it open.

He chuffed with laughter at her comment on his pack, deeply grateful that she had taken it, even if it had cost his pride a great deal to ask. "Thank you," he nodded to her, letting a little more strength return to his limbs before pushing off the tree and staggering to the door of the cabin. "Everything I need to survive out here is in that pack," he told her. "Everything but this pelt and my weapons." But before he entered the cabin, he paused, waiting for her to look back at him. "I won't betray your trust, lady. I'll be gone before you can grow sick of me."

She paused at the door to look back at him, a long moment of silence passing between them as she seemed to consider his promise. She had already decided to trust him; she could only hope he wouldn't betray that trust, consciously or otherwise. She had given her trust before, only to find it misgiven. It made her wary, but not unwilling to help those she thought needed it. "Marissa," she corrected. She could not recall anyone ever calling her lady. "My name is Marissa," she told him before stepping past the door and into the shelter of the cabin.

"Marissa." He smiled then, turning his face from watchful to handsome in an instant. "A beautiful name. It suits you." Bracing himself, he moved into the cabin in her wake, pausing to fold the pelt and leave it by the door so as not to intrude too much upon what was her own private place. "I am Emrys. Just Emrys."

She arched a brow at the sound of his name, as unusual as it was. It had a lyrical sound to it, not unlike her own, and she decided it suited him, as well. She made no remark on it, however, offering no last name either, her gaze darting only once to the pelt he left by the door. Though rustic on the outside, the cabin was comfortable enough on the inside - small but with equipped with indoor plumbing. It had the appearance of a hunting cabin, but who'd built it and why, she did not say. She set the pack down on the floor, feeling awkward now that they had arrived. It had been a very long time since she had been alone with a man she did not consider to be family. "I should have a look at that wound."

"If you think you can do anything for it, please do," he allowed, despite the sense of awkwardness. His movements were uncomfortable to watch as he shed weapons, cloak and coat, bloodstains and all, turning his fingers to unlacing the leather jerkin that covered his shirt. "Where do you want me, Lady Marissa?"

"The chair by the fire, and I'm no lady," she replied, a touch bitter to admit the last. He seemed more than a little out of place, and she wondered if he was a native of Rhy'Din or one of the many brought here from another time or place. There was a fire already going in the hearth, though it had died down nearly to embers. "I'll just be a moment," she told him, moving about the cabin to gather some things before disappearing behind a door. She was suddenly all too aware of her nudity beneath the cloak and the fact that he was about to shed his shirt only distracted her all the more.

"All right ....Marissa." He nodded to her, making his way painfully to the chair as he undid his jerkin. The slash in the leather made him wince as he got a good look at it, knowing it was a good hour of work to mend that properly. Still, it had helped to save his life, so he couldn't complain too much. He glanced curiously toward the door his host had disappeared through, wondering what he had done to make her so uncomfortable. Apart from a few unpleasant words spoken in pain, that was. Gritting his teeth, he raised his hands to pull the shirt off over his head, revealing a well-muscled chest and arms. Lean, and decorated with a scattering of dark hair, he didn't seem to bear any scars. Even the wound on his back seemed to have stopped bleeding, though his skin was smeared with his own blood.

"Thank you." For a man who found it so difficult to ask for help, he made up for it in his gratitude, which was genuine and honest. Decent once again, he set aside his bloodied cloak and shirt to wash in the morning, his jerkin to be mended, all with his pack and pelt, once again careful not to take up too much of her personal space. Her question brought a low sigh from his lips as he considered how to answer it. "I am a wolf in man's clothing," he said finally. "When the full moon calls - Arabab, here - I lose my mind to the wolf in my blood, but my body does not change. I am a danger to everyone and everything around me."

That did get a reaction from her in the way of an arched brow as she turned to regard him silently for a long moment. "But if you don't - can't - shift, how can you hunt with only human teeth and nails" It seems you would be more of a danger to yourself than to anyone around you," she reasoned.

"I've woken up with some nasty injuries, certainly," he agreed. There was a resigned acceptance in the way he spoke; this was the way he had been made, and he had learned to live with it. "When I was younger, before I learned to keep to myself at the moon ....I would wake up with dead bodies half-eaten, and their blood on my hands and mouth. I killed my own sister the first time I turned. That's why the pack wanted me gone."

As much as she'd witnessed over the years, she could not hide her horror at the admission of what he'd done, and yet, she also recognized the sense of guilt and remorse and even grief in his words. "It was not your fault," she assured him, restraining herself from reaching out to touch his hand through some fear of her own. "You cannot be blamed for the way you were born, and you have learned what you must do at the full moon, but I am sorry for your loss," she told him with sincerity and compassion, and a certain amount of understanding.

"It's what I am," he agreed with her quietly, letting her touch his hand, or not, without making a fuss of it or trying to touch her in return. She was more a wild animal than he was, for all that she had a home to go to. "I've learned to be what I am, and to keep it from harming those around me. Being alone is tough, at first. It becomes a habit after a while."

"Tigers are solitary creatures; wolves are not," she reasoned aloud, reminding him that she, too, was a solitary creature, even if she was half human. The kettle called, summoning her away from him and she rose to make them both a cup of something warm and soothing. "You may not like the taste of this, but it will help you sleep," she told him as she took down two cups and went about preparing the warm draught.

"Humans are social creatures, too," he pointed out. "Whatever wolf is in me, I am human as well. Whatever tiger is in you, there is human to counter it. I did not say it was a healthy way to live. But it is necessary, for me, at least." He sniffed at the mixture she was preparing curiously. "What is in it?"

She made no comment on his logic, nor did she offer any explanations for her own solitude, save that she was part-tiger. "Chamomile, among other things, with honey to sweeten it. It won't put you to sleep, but it will help you to relax," she instructed, having a small bit of knowledge of herbs, passed along by someone who knew them far better. She passed the cup along to him, waiting for him to take a sip and see for himself. It wasn't the sort of drink she would expect someone like him to prefer, but it would do what she claimed. "Don't worry. I promise not to take advantage of you in your sleep or rummage through your belongings," she added with a smirk.

He took the cup, sniffing it once again before raising it to his lips to taste it. Whatever she seemed to think of him, she likely did not expect him to like the taste that passed his lips. "It is good," he complimented her, glancing toward the pile of his belongings by the door with a chuckle at her words. "Unless you have a yearning for unwashed underthings and treated furs, I think my belongings are safe with you. My virtue is another thing entirely, but if I am asleep, I will never know, will I?"

"Oh, I think you would know," she replied, making no comment regarding his virtue one way or another. If he was the loner he claimed, it was likely he'd never been with a woman, but that was not a thought she wanted to think on long. She had not yet thanked him for helping her in the woods, not in so many words, but maybe the morning would change things. "You should rest. It will help with the healing," she told him, moving to fetch her own cup of tea, putting her back to him again.

"You are right, I should," he agreed, swallowing a mouthful of the tea before moving to rise himself. He retrieved his pelt from beside the door, and a blanket from his pack, returning to the fire to lay the pelt down like a bedroll. "I will not disturb you, Marissa," he promised her faithfully. "A warm night in the depths of winter is a rare treat for me."

"The ice is melting. It will be spring soon," she told him, watching as he made a bed for himself in front of the fire. She made no move to stop him or to insist he take the bed. Until he had a bath, she had no intentions of sharing it, and even then, he seemed more than comfortable in front of the fire. It had been a long time since she'd shared her bed with a man, and even so, it was only a memory of another lifetime lived by another Marissa. "You can have a bath and breakfast in the morning, and we'll see about that wound," she said, making no further promises.

He chuckled at her second mention of a bath. "Do I truly smell so repugnant to you?" he asked in amusement, easing down onto the pelt comfortably, the blanket laid over his legs. "I bathed, oh, not more than three weeks ago."

"I will overlook it because you are unaccustomed to such luxuries, but there is something to be said for deodorant," she teased, unsure if he even knew what that was, since he'd been ignorant of coffee. She wasn't sure how long he had been here, but it seemed he still had a lot to learn. She went to him, only with the intention of fetching his empty cup, but paused a moment to help him with the blanket. "Rest well. You are safe here. You have my word." She wasn't sure how much the word of a weretiger would be to him, but if she'd wanted to hurt him, she'd have done it by now and she certainly wouldn't have invited him to her home.

He laughed at her teasing, relaxing down onto the pelt at his back as she seemed to tuck him in. "I am at your mercy," he teased her in return. "And thank you, truly. I appreciate your kindness."

"I should thank you, as well, I suppose," she admitted grudgingly, leaning back against her heels, an amused smile touching her face, though tinged with some sadness. "It is not every day someone comes to my rescue," she added, with just a hint of sarcasm.

"Don't grieve for them," he told her in his quiet way. "They would not have grieved for you." He might have touched her hand then, if there had not been some sense of a barrier she held tight about herself preventing him. "It's not every day I get to rescue a tiger." He winked at her, the concoction he had drunk beginning to take its toll on his senses as he yawned.

"I won't," she assured him bluntly. Though she did not relish killing them and deplored eating their flesh, she would not grieve their loss. She had warned them, and they had not heeded her warning. She doubted they would have even given her that. "Good night, Emrys. Sleep well," she told him before rising to her feet. Whether she slept well or not would remain to be seen. She was feeling restless, though the source of her restlessness seemed to have found its way to her home in the form of a man who was not wholly human.

"Good night, Marissa." He sighed softly, carefully adjusting himself so that he was not lying directly on his injury and, with all the ease of a canine, promptly dropped off to sleep, only too happy to sleep safely for once. He certainly wasn't a man to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She felt almost insulted at how quickly he managed to drop off. Apparently, she wasn't quite the distraction to him that he was to her, but she didn't want to dwell on that thought very long. She went about rinsing the cups out before finding her own bed, choosing to remain fully clothed. It would be some time before she found sleep, her mind too restless to drift off as easily as he had. In a few days, he would be gone, and she would be alone with her solitude once again. Just a few days.