the road ahead

With one rose planted and the other two safely in his possession, Ianto left the mother tree to head through the Wildwood on quiet feet; the Greatwood in general was unusually subdued as of late. And, having lived through one Deepfrost here, Ianto could safely say that it wasn't seasonal. No, a mix of the blight and whatever else was happening with Vi had caused the forest to hold its breath, and Ianto felt himself going along with it too.

Glancing between the trees, he didn't hurry exactly, but he wasn't wasting time as he headed for the outskirts. Knowing the way most definitely helped, and whilst his footfalls might not make sense to those who weren't attuned to the woods' wild ways, he followed a path all of his own without so much as a second glance.

Some among the Blighted might haunt the Settlement, hunting in familiar territory and stalking those they had once known knew among the stone dwellings and night shadows. Jigano had forsaken the place entirely in his transformation, however, slinking among the wild places and seeking in particular those who thought to try their hands at a little unseasonal gardening. Dainty white paws padded soundlessly over the snow, even the faint trace of his passing swept away by the brush of his tail as he made his way through the underbrush, white-on-white except for the blackness in his eyes and the tarry streaks on his chin. Others of his kind might have reveled in their blood and filth, but this blight-beast was small rather than strong, and relied on stealth to sneak up on his prey. His thoughts were not his own, sunk entirely into rabid animality, but he was clever enough even in the depths of his madness to clean the blood and blackness from his fur so that he could better blend in with the snow that lay over everything in the world, the cold without finally a match for the cold within.

The white fox came across a scent that was vaguely familiar, though one he might have ignored had it not been twined with the loathsome stench of the wretched Roses. Those had him drawing his lips back in a silent snarl, his attention focused completely on the trail being left so conveniently for him to follow.

It was less conscious thought than instinct that had him striking out beneath the boughs of the Wildwood, an animal's mind providing little purchase for the living forest's tricks to turn and confuse. He wanted blood. He wanted destruction. And he would find both soon enough as a red brush finally came into view, bright fur a flag against the snow.

This was no manticore, nor giant eagle of gold. This was a small fox, a coward. Easy prey, to the blightbeast's vague and drifting memories, and it wasted no time in clever stratagems or ambushes. Gathering lean muscles, he launched himself at Ianto, racing across the snow to try and pounce upon the other fox with jaws that leaked black and eyes that shone with madness.

Ianto should have known better than to think he walked the Greatwood alone, after his meeting with Nephele, after her warnings about the blighted that had stalked the rose-blooming shrine. He should have been more careful, should have been on the lookout more - should have, should have, should have.

But ultimately, he hadn't. And so as Jigano leapt, all teeth and claws and rabid ferocity, Ianto was completely caught off guard. The basket containing his roses dropped from his jaws as the white fox tackled him, drawing a startled yelp from the other Attuned. He went down hard onto his back, twisting and writhing to try and get his paws beneath him. Failing that, he would try to lash out and scrabble with claws against the underbelly of the white menace on top of him, only realising who it was when he had already reacted.

Jigano? His mental voice was shocked and breathless. What in Rae's name are you doing?

He struck true and hard, knocking the Roses away as he and the red fox rolled in the snow, scrabbling at each other as he tried to pin the other beast to the ground and position himself for a killing blow. This was no recently-made Attuned though, new to their body and uncertain of its capabilities. Ianto reacted with sharply-honed instincts, getting his claws under Jigano's belly and scratching through his thick winter coat. The white fox snapped centimeters from his prey's throat, but two black paws caught his stomach and kicked out just as his teeth clashed together, only dripping black saliva on Ianto's jaunty fur.

He was knocked aside and regained his feet, underside already streaking with black blood from his fresh cuts as he bristled at Ianto and shook his head against the annoying buzzing that almost sounded familiar, bits and pieces of unheard sound that didn't quite make sense to his blight-addled brain.

All that mattered was blood and Roses, and he had both before him as he began a slow, slinking circle to try and get around Ianto and go for his fallen flowers instead.

Panting and confused and trying to roll to his feet, Ianto knew all at once that it was definitely Jigano. Even without the response, the shake of the head, the knowledge that the other fox had been infected with the blight, the attack on him and his roses... it all made sense. And so, prowling back to stand protectively over the basket, Ianto watched his fellow Attuned with obvious caution. Swiftly, he shifted back to his human shape, coppery hair a ruffled mess, dirt and a few scrapes covering his face and hands.

"Jigano," he said again, slowly and firmly to stop the tremor in his voice. It was a small white fox with all the strength and vicious nature of the blight, and he was a coward. You're damned right he was scared of this. Still, his fingers found one of the roses in the basket, working around the stem so he could keep the thorns on show as he lifted it up.

"You want this, huh? Come on then."

Fox to man the red canine went, and Jigano pulled back lips from black-stained teeth in a snarl of blight-fueled rage as Ianto rose to stand above him. Taller the prey might have become, but he had given up his fangs and claws to do so, and that suited the white fox just fine. There were times that he was more lucid, when cunning schemes burned their way through his black-eyed madness and made him more dangerous - and more cruel. Today was not one of those days, however, the rage fueling only a desire to bite and rend, whether animals or people, or most especially Vi's Roses.

Again the prey made noises that were almost familiar, this time aloud, and the white fox paused to cock his head at the sound of... of...

White ears flopped as he shook his head, the low rumble of his growl rising to a vicious snarl as he was taunted with one of the flowers. That just tore it, then. He bounded across the distance between them and launched his lithe white body at Ianto, intending to sink his blackened teeth into the wrist that held the rose unless the clever little man should dodge it and find a way to bite him back.

Clever and cunning the two foxes might be, but it appeared neither were entirely on form today. Perhaps it was the cold or the chill of the blight in all its glory before them, but Ianto couldn't twist out of the way of Jigano in time. So instead he dropped the rose into his other hand, letting the white canine sink his fangs deeply into the wrist that had been holding it originally.

Biting back a cry of pain and surprise, Ianto stumbled back into the snow, landing hard on his back. He didn't know if the fox would dart back again now that it had found its target, or try to tear his damned hand off. Either way, he reached up with the rose now, trying to prick a paw or a muzzle with it where the fur was less thick.

Blood, sweet and hot, filled the fox's mouth and for a moment almost washed away the taste of the blight that coated his tongue. The white beast closed its eyes, savoring the wound and the pain it caused, grinding his blight-stained teeth deeper into Ianto's skin as the red-haired trickster fell back, momentarily heedless of what the prey was doing.

A growl of wicked satisfaction had started to build deep in his chest when something pricked sharp and deep into his paw and he yipped a furious protest, releasing Ianto's wrist and bounding to the side to worry at the place where he had been stabbed. The meatling still held no proper weapon, only the hated rose, but still black blood welled thickly from where it had pierced the fox's fur and skin. He favored the paw, snarling up at the merchant as vengeance burned dark promise in his onyx eyes...

A snarl that slowly faded as he blinked and shook his head, confusion overtaking the rage that had devoured his mind. He crouched in the snow, shaking as he looked around uncertainly, a whine keening in the back of his throat.

...Ianto...?

Ianto caged his cry of pain behind clenched teeth, but that didn't stop his hand from spasming, and he had to resist the urge to fling the fox away and into the nearest tree. Luckily enough the white menace detached from his arm, and both Attuned were left tending to their injuries. Ianto's wrist was pissing blood, for a start, and he withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket to wrap it tightly around the wound.

It was lucky he'd succeeded, too, in being able to prick the fox with the rose, because he hadn't been focusing on Jigano at all; only his name echoing in his mind drew his attention back. Pale and cold, he glanced down at the bard with a shaky smile, nodding to him. "Aye, that would be me," he said softly. "Feeling better?"

I'm... not... Jigano looked around the clearing, fur poofed out in distress as he crouched on three legs, favoring the fourth. His gaze was drawn back to the nearby man with the bleeding wrist, and he recognized the taste on his tongue with flattened ears and widened eyes. A retching cough came from his throat as he tried to spit out the blood still in his mouth, skittering away from the mostly-black mess that came up to stain the snow. He panted, wild-eyed as he looked around again to see if there was anyone else with them.

You have to go away, he begged, the whine rising again in his throat in counterpoint to his desperate telepathy. I don't want to hurt you again! He pressed himself as low as he could get against the snow, misery in once-blue eyes as he looked mournfully up at Ianto. I'm sorry...

Carefully replacing the rose in the basket, Ianto shifted to get up off the snow, teeth fighting not to chatter as the cold sank into his bones. "It happens," he said, as if he was waving off some minor slight rather than deep puncture wounds in his wrist. "Don't apologise. It wasn't you who did this," he said, his breath clouding the air before him as he approached the small fox.

"Listen," he murmured, crouching down before Jigano. "I don't know how long you'll have like this, but get some proper food in you, and get some rest. Okay? We're working on fixing this - everything will be put to rights. You just need to hold on until then."

It didn't happen, though, not normally, and Ianto's grace at waving off the terrible thing that Jigano had done only squeezed lemon juice into the wound where his pride had been. Even that was nothing compared to the physical injuries he had given the helpful fox. Injuries he had only the haziest memory of causing, though the blood in his mouth was ample clue enough that he had been at fault.

He remained still, afraid that if he moved it would break the momentary spell of lucidity that had befallen him like an enchantment. He wanted to run from Ianto, from the bloody proof of his loss of control and failure to protect and guard, but every moment that his thoughts were clear and his own was precious and the other Attuned's presence made it feel more real. It was a mix of guilt and desperate hope that pricked him far more deeply than the Rose's thorn.

How? he asked, hope and fear in equal measure in his mental voice. How would they put things to rights? How could he hold on? It sounded so simple the way Ianto said it, but Jigano felt like he might shake himself to pieces from the sick tension of not knowing when the blight would reassert himself and he would lose himself to the black once more.

Carefully, and if Jigano would allow it, Ianto would work the fingers of his uninjured hand into the ruff of thick, winter fur around the fox's neck. As a fellow fox, he knew all the best places to scritch, and even with the stinging in his wrist, he got the feeling that Jigano needed the comfort and reassurance more than he did. "The roses, he explained. "Vi grew them at the shrine in the Wildwood for us, to help cure the blight. We're planting them, all of us."

With a soft smile, he tilted his head at Jigano. "So just keep yourself going, okay? This will be over soon. I have faith in Vi, and Rae, and Arduinna as well."

Jigano did not want to allow Ianto to touch him, too afraid of what he might do if the blight flashed strong and wicked through his heart again.

Jigano very badly wanted to feel a little comfort, a little reassurance that the world wasn't ending and that he was not going to be changed beyond recognition for all of eternity.

In the end, indecision meant that he remained as frozen as his shaking body could manage, flinching at first from Ianto's touch but allowing it with a pulse of guilty relief through the Attuned bond. The Roses, he repeated softly, seeking a flickering ghost of a memory. I think... Amalia also had a Rose that she was planting. She said something about Vi, too? It was more question than statement, the white fox not entirely certain he could face whatever memories might surface if he went looking too hard. But Ianto had said 'all of us' and there was also Kiada and Ronin to worry about, and Melita, Caiside, Phoebe... surely others, too...

Something in the little white body seemed to relax a few notches and he flicked his ears in acknowledgment of Ianto's gentle admonition for self-care. Faith... yes... he agreed, taking solace in the three named. Mort's name wasn't among them, but then, the solution that Mort could offer would be permanent in a way he suspected few would be happy with. This was a problem for the gods of life and nature to handle, and he would trust in Vi as Mort did, to find a solution for them all.

Could you plant a Rose in Ludo's Woods for me? he asked, though it was on the verge of begging. Please?