They'd agreed to meet somewhere private, alone. Bloodhound arrived early, when the moon was low in the sky. They and their raven had quietly scouted the edges of the great green expanse, making sure that the field was devoid of any prying eyes. Thoughts raced through their mind, even as their movements were measured, skilled. Watching for others as they wondered exactly what the Doctor thought of all of this. Bloodhound... felt in their element, so to speak. They could track and sniff out prey like never before, they could see into the night without having to fumble and make noise trying to retrieve their goggles. It.. had taken them some time to get used to certain aspects of this, moving on four legs, the aggressive shedding that came with spring, the lack of treatment for their asthma.

But... all things considered, they trusted in the Allfather. There was a purpose for this. A trial they had to face, a means of proving their loyalty to Him.

They had only spent a few days within Tanglewood, and already, so much had happened. Was this the Gods' will? Were there unknowable things at work here? Bloodhound supposed it mattered little. Wondering why did not change things. It only sowed malcontent. So they trusted in the Allfather, held fast to their beliefs. Had faith, and thanked those that had been lost for their strength. May they have that same strength when it too, was their time to face the Allfather.

This was a blessing. A new chance. A new life.

Perhaps so as well, for Caustic. Had he been chosen as well? Were there more? They hoped, that perhaps Caustic would have the answers. But perhaps not, with the look on his face when he realized who they were.


They waited in that field, as the moon rose ever higher, rolling in the great long grass, relieving an itch just as much as they were playing around with their companion, pawing gently at it's beak, as it cawed and nipped at their massive claws playfully.

"Little andskoti. You do not get to eat my toes." They cooed in their mother tongue, laughing softly as the raven cawed and rolled in the grass with them. It filled them with a warmth, something childlike and free. After the last few days, after all the mourning and loss and misery, the warmth in their heart was welcome.

Bloodhound hears Caustic before they can see him. A great wolf, trudging through the brush, his breath peppered with coughs, a large man who also happened to be fairly noisy. Their eyes fall upon the other's large frame as it comes into view, and they twist away from the playful raven, rising to their four, the black bird fluttering into a nearby tree, cawing.

Caustic speaks, getting very quickly to the point. Bloodhound supposed they needed little preamble. They bow their head in greeting, taking a moment to think before responding.

"I am not sure," They say truthfully. Carefully. "...I remember that I was in the ring." Concussed and bleeding out. "I had lost. In the space between losing the fight and death, I found myself here."

They had died wrong, had slipped between the cracks of a world class insurance company. They would not pretend that dying and being constantly revived for the sake of crowd entertainment was a sort of healthcare.

"I thought it may have been the will of The Allfather, that I yet had another trial. But..." They glance again at Caustic, head cocking to one side curiously. "...now I am not so sure."

They were sent by The Gods, they fought to prove themself to The Allfather, fought to satiate His need for blood. Whatever sent Caustic had long been disproved to be a god. And if it was divine, it was not something they wanted to meet.

"Have you seen any of the others?" Or rather, it was better to ask... is it just us?

Bloodhound finds themself following Caustic's gaze, their eyes setting on his paws. The metal toes. They hadn't realized he'd lost fingers. It hadn't come up. He was always wearing those gloves.

Caustic meets their gaze, and tells them of his own memories. How he ended up here, a portal gone awry. Something  gone horribly wrong. A mistake. They stay silent, but they lower their head, a sort of sympathy. Understanding.

Their ears perk up, hearing of Octavio. It was also their first clue, that perhaps... they were not from the same dimension. Their own Octavio had been very focused on the women in his life, and his followers. He had not pursued much more than a passing acquaintanceship beyond Ajay. To follow Caustic here of his own volition... was curious indeed.

The Doctor seemed to speak fondly of him, even in calling him a fool, there was a genuine... warmth, about it. Curiouser and curiouser. Was this something they'd missed? An aspect of the Games they had managed to overlook? Was everyone forming genuine connections with each other, while Bloodhound stood alone, keeping their distance, watching from afar? They were sure they'd been keeping an eye on everyone, learning their strengths, weaknesses. Perhaps these calculations hadn't accounted for... whatever this is.

Perhaps the distance they maintained had been an error. They had not joined the Games to make friends, but thought fondly of the other Legends all the same. Each one brought their abilities and an admirable determination to the playing field. They had enjoyed time spent with them, when they sought it out. They laid each of their downed opponents to rest with a weapon in hand. Hoping upon hope, to fight again with them in Valhalla, when the wolf comes.

And yet... Bloodhound did not trust any of them outside of team cooperation. It wasn't easy, to balance affection and friendship with the fact that at any moment, you may have to kill someone you care for to get ahead. That in reality, there was money on the line, and that may be the only reason these people are looking out for you. You had higher chances, if your team was alive and at the ready. They had thought the games hadn't allowed for this sort of thing, that it was an easy way to make oneself a target.

"It is certainly an odd fate. I am glad that we find ourselves in the same place." Something... someone familiar, at the very least. "Is Octavio in Tanglewood? Has he found himself a wolf, as well?"

But perhaps... Bloodhound was blinded by their own inability to get close to others, their worries of losing everything they had with another person in the blink of an eye. The memory of their parents' deaths, their uncle, all of it was still painfully fresh, even after all these years. Perhaps isolating oneself, was not exactly a healthy way to cope.

Perhaps they had relied too long, on ravens for companionship.

"Is the gas... the same?" They venture, staring at it as it coils up and away from Caustic's jaws. It was strange, that they both had maintained... some aspects, of who they were as people. A reminder of their humanity, within these feral bodies.

Bloodhound simply tilts their head, hearing Caustic cough out his disagreement. How he hated this, hated living here. Consigned to die in a foreign place, in a body that was not his. Bloodhound is sure they misspoke. They themselves are not exactly excited either, to be in ailing health, to see someone they know....? Knew...? suffer this way.

They shake their head, slowly. Careful movement, as their ears fall back a little. They do not fully understand the depth of the situation that the Doctor is in, his health was his own, but they note that he is coughing much more than they are used to, from him. Or perhaps, it was only now that they noticed.

"Perhaps I was unclear. I am glad that none of us are dealing with this alone."

Alone, we fall. It was an odd turn of phrase, from their people, who would send a child out into the night to kill a Goliath on their lonesome. To forbid their return until tribute was retrieved, until the Old Ways were honored.

They shake the memory clear, all blood and youth and loss. Grief that filled their heaving chest, wracked their nights with sobs. Years had passed. It was over.

They come back to themself, to the present, as gas spills out of Caustic's maw, as he speaks of Octane being a cheetah now. They find themself not one but surprised to learn this. They laugh, just a little. The irony of it all, Octane's near neurotic need for speed. Daredevil stunts. His many touches with death outside the ring. Of course he'd be a cheetah.

"How is he taking all of this?" Perhaps better asked to the man in question, but. They were here now.

Their eyes light up behind the eyeglass of their mask, unseen, as Caustic tells them the truth. Curious, how his toxins manifested in such a different way. Animalistic and reminiscent of a snake, even as he breathed the gas. How this world had changed them. But, their thoughts drift to Aurum, and his wings. Perhaps that was just how it was, here.

Bloodhound sits, their tail curling around, touching their toes. It was strange, how natural it all felt. Wolven instincts and millions of years of ever-evolving knowledge melding with their own experiences. Creating something... new. Greater than the sum of its parts, to a degree. It fascinated them, personally.

"I will not tell a soul, Felagí." It was habit, to add fighter. But they supposed, with no ring, with no games, there was no fight.

They noted the discrepancies between Caustic and Octavio's experiences here. Perhaps it was something to discuss with the latter.

In the space between their thoughts, of considering the venom and the gas that spilled from the other's lungs, Caustic's threat was very much recieved.

Bloodhound felt that they had a healthy relationship with fear. They were not one to pretend otherwise, as they knew that fear, and reacting to it thoughtfully and constructively, were keys to their own survival, oftentimes. As Caustic drew closer, getting in their face, they feel.... vulnerable, like a fly under a magnefying glass, much smaller than the threat that seemed to loom much closer than they would prefer.

The way those green eyes seemed to bore into them, the promise of violence in a voice, that had, mere moments ago, had been talking of a colleague of sorts... This was frightening to them, instinctually. Intruding in another wolf's land, their very presence a challenge to the other, the mesh of millions of years of knowledge and their own humanity clashing in blood and teeth. It had their emotions reeling, memories flooding their mind, of the fear they felt on their first hunt, of the fear that filled them, when they had first died in that ring.

But yet... they were no child. And Caustic was no Goliath. Their ears fall back, and the smaller wolf clenches their jaw. A growl threatens to rise up their throat, but they find themself looking at Caustic's.

"You are not the only one with secrets, Doctor," They say, a growl evident in their voice. The arctic wolf steps just a bit closer
to him. The snout of Bloodhound's mask just barely brushes Caustic's neckfur. "Do not doubt that I will tear your throat out, if you seek that path with me."

They were not here to make enemies, they remind themself, letting their own threat sink in, before stepping back and away, slowly circling the Doctor.

"I do not wish to make you an enemy, Doctor. Your secrets are your own, and I will keep them safe. To even our odds, I will tell you only this, andskoti: from Talos, I hail. My kin lived and died there, frozen into the landscape; felled by a great beast. For the honor of my kin, I did slatrà a Goliath with my own hands, as a child." They pause, sitting down a distance away from Caustic, the raven crawing behind them. "For the glory of the Allfather, I have fought ever since. You are not the first to die by my hand. You will not be the last."