"Oh Will….what have you done….

OoOoO

The trees were crying, their wet laments annoying Hannibal to no end. The wendigo was not physically bothered by the rain, his being able to endure extremes of heat and cold with ease. It was just irritating for him to walk around with sodden fur, the feathers within it needing special attention afterward. Hunger was the about only thing that could drive him out of his home's warmth, the constant need for fresh meat the wendigo's curse.

With a very unfortunate fae slung over his shoulder, one whose blood was painting his tanned skin sticky with red, Hannibal made quick strides toward his house. Luckily for him, Hannibal had not needed to go far. An elf had been foolish enough to enter his woods on some quest. The creature's begging had almost been cute, the would be hero trying to appeal to Hannibal's better nature. A flick of claws had turned those pleas into screams.

An odd sound drew Hannibal's attention elsewhere, the wendigo pausing in his homeward bound goals as more tears coated his skin and curled his feathered fur. He was glad he took the time, the sight that greeted him endearing in so many different ways and long awaited.

The only creature who stood a chance of catching a glimpse at Hannibal's better nature was huddled underneath a large fern leaf he was using to keep the rain off his horned head. The flora umbrella was doing a poor job of it though. The faun was drenched despite his best efforts, looking miserable and so lost.

Will had finally come home to him.

"Hello, little faun. What brings you to my woods again?" Hannibal smiled, though he could hazard a guess. Will stunk of desperation, fear, and blood, but not his own. It didn't take a lot to guess something had gone terribly wrong in his herd.

"I killed someone." Will choked out, the admission making the faun stomp his little cloven hooves. Curling in on himself under his leaf only made the faun look smaller than it actually was, more delicate. Fauns were such fragile things, but Hannibal knew that Will was made from sterner stuff than the rest of his herd.

"How does that make you feel?" Hannibal asked to be met with silence, Will ducking his head to start trembling.

"Will, don't be rude. Answer the question, and I will allow you to come home with me." Hannibal pressed, leaning in to use his greater height and spread of antlers to his fullest advantage. Will responded beautifully, his eyes going wide as he crouched down even lower, his cloven hooves sinking into the mud. The faun could still escape if he felt so inclined to do so, and Hannibal would have no chance of catching him if the faun did. Despite that fact, the wendigo was confident that Will wouldn't be running away from him anymore.

"You have a home?" Will blinked up at him in surprise. It was not the answer Hannibal was looking for, but at least the faun was responding to him.

"I'm not a savage. Of course I do, little one. I might be willing to share it with another, but you must give me something back in return." Hannibal found himself chuckling. He kept his voice low and sweet, deceptively soothing. "How did it feel to kill?"

"It felt good. Righteous even." Will whispered, daring to look up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"Fascinating. You will tell me more, but later. For now, let's get you fed and dried off." Hannibal said, satisfied for now and wanting to get out of the salt rain. "Come along."

When Will didn't move fast enough for him, the wendigo reached down to scoop up the faun with his free arm, keeping him there in the crook of it. To Will's credit, he didn't struggle much. Giving up, Will laid his head upon a broad shoulder so that he stared at the corpse who was to be dinner.

"That smells good." Will mumbled into Hannibal's skin, making the wendigo chuckle.

"He will taste even better." Hannibal told him, taking longer strides than before. He had been in a hurry earlier, but now the distance between his house and here seemed almost unbearably long with Will's body fitting so nicely up against his own. Skin to skin, the wendigo could feel the faun's heartbeat. Oddly enough, it was slowing down to an even pace, Will finding his presence soothing. The scents of meadows and wild flowers coming of the faun certainly confirmed this, untainted by the sourness of fear or the bitterness of anger.

Tired physically and mentally, Will settled into the wendigo that carried him such ease. The idea of a house was new to the faun. He had never even seen one before, only heard about them in stories from travelers who had stayed in the meadows with the herd. While he understood their function, Will couldn't wrap his head around the concept. Why anyone would choose to confine themselves in such limited spaces when the world was so open and vast? The sky was a faun's roof and the earth, their rooms and chambers. Seeing he had little choice in the matter now, Will resigned himself to his fate. It felt like he was always meant to come here one way or another. The faun stared at the dead elf and wondered if he was the wendigo's next meal.

If that was his fate, Will welcomed his death. He had committed the worst crime that any faun could do. He could never return to his herd now, even if he wanted to. Not that his fall from grace had been a great loss. There had never been a place for him there among the other fauns, not really. He had always been different. At best, he had blended in with the others to an extent, mimicking their behavior while trying to bury his own true nature. There were a few individuals he liked, Alana and Abigail being the few and far between, but for the most part, he felt nothing toward the rest of the herd. Experiencing their distain and distrust had taken its toll upon him though.

The wendigo's house was an excellent distraction from such morose thoughts, one that served to make Will completely forget about his current predicatment, at least for a moment. The house had once been goblin in origin, but the all seeing forest had taken the framework over to consume part of it, roots growing securely around mortar and stone. The building had two sentries on either side of it, the trees attached to house from base and foundation to branch and roof. Thick tendrils that were dark green and looked like ivy but were not covered the rest, fighting for space with the blue fungus that lit the woods from within, making the wendigo's house stand out in eerie relief against the eternal night.

It was not a house made for or by the wendigo. That was clear enough as Hannibal ducked through the entryway, mindful of his antlers out of engrained habit as he turned sideways to accommodate his burdens and head. All Will could do was stare about him, the house fitting the description of one from stories in that it had walls, a roof, and floors. Will was not especially partial to the idea of such things. The walls looked limiting and anything could be hiding behind them, and the floors unnecessary. He could approve of the ceiling though, the overhead covering keeping the rain off them nicely.

The inside was interesting enough to look at though, the space filled with what could only be furniture of some sort though Will was uncertain of most items' names or purpose. The space itself had been gutted, the second floor missing entirely to comfortably contain the wendigo's size. Will didn't ask about the original inhabitants of this place. He had a pretty good idea of what had happened to them.

Will found himself carried into another room entirely, this one having a fire pit in it and many other interesting items lined up on shelves and counters. The faun could only assume this was a kitchen or at least, it fit the description of one. Will had a perfect memory for such things, and could recall any story that had ever been told to him. He knew his herd wouldn't remember him fondly, but they would miss him one day for that.

The meat was thrown on a table to bleed out into a pot, the furrows carved into the top of it aiding in this as the fire pit lit itself for the wendigo. Before Will could ask any questions about the room or the house itself, he was whisked away to yet another place. This space lay under the earth itself, a deep hole carved into the dirt. Will didn't like the feel of the cavern, the faun renewing his struggles the further Hannibal took them down.

A great deal of old death resided in this place, smelling sour and metallic. The darkness was broken up by the blue fungus's glow, making it bright enough for the faun to see cuts of salted meat hanging from roots being cured. As futile as it was now, Will fought to make the wendigo let him go, feeling trapped in this place. Hannibal had both arms now to cage him though, the wendigo easily hooking his arm under the faun's furred legs to keep him in place and pressed close to his chest.

"Hush, Will. We are simply going to the spring here to clean off. The salt will dry out your skin and make it itch later. It will also ruin your lovely fur." Hannibal soothed. He enjoyed the stubborn faun's efforts to free himself, but disliked the fear coming off of him. It ruined Will's naturally sweet scent.

The smell of fresh water made Will settle more thoroughly than the wendigo's words as the pair left the meat cellar to come upon an underground spring, the pool of water fresh and clear as a cut piece of azure as it was lit up from within. Tiny fish that shone like starlight make the water sparkle and ripple with strange liquid illumination.

When Will was placed in the midst of it, he found the water was warm and easily came up to his neck as his hooves found the bottom, the faun startling from the sensation of it. All the water he had ever known was cool and flowing. There had been more streams than ponds in the meadow, and even then, all of them had been chilly.

Setting the faun's pipes and satchel aside to keep from getting even wetter, the wendigo settled in behind Will, the stunned faun pulled firmly into a lap so that his lean back settled against a solid chest. Having no other option with water up to his neck, Will made himself keep still, his gaze settling upon the tiny fish that began to nibble their greedy kisses into their skin and fur, hungry to clean the blood, salt, and dirt from it.

Clawed fingertips ran through Will's curls as a cupped palm dumped water into the dark locks, the wendigo cleaning off the faun with great care as the smaller creature trembled against him.

"You smell delightful." Hannibal murmured, leaning in to lick off drops of water that ran down Will's neck.

"Good enough to eat? What does frightened taste like?" Will dared to ask, turning his head as far as Hannibal's hand in his hair would let him.

"Acidic. It leaves a certain tang upon the tongue." Hannibal told him not unkindly, holding Will even closer by sliding his hand from sodden curls to the faun's neck to feel the smaller creature convulsively swallow against his palm.

"The meat is bitter about being dead." Will whispered, tentatively licking his lips to find the wendigo tracking the movement of his tongue. The bloody shading of Hannibal's eyes was mesmerizing to Will, the faun unable to look away.

"What are you bitter about? What do you fear?" Hannibal asked, stroking the faun's skin with clawed fingertips, careful not to mark it.

"You." Will said without hesitation. Hannibal would have applauded but wasn't about to stop touching the faun now that he could.

"And yet here you are. Stop lying to yourself. You're not afraid of me, only what I am capable of. What you yearn to do yourself." Hannibal pointed out, watching Will's face fall into ruin once more. The faun crumbled under the weight of his guilt, resting his body against Hannibal's own to let the wendigo do whatever it liked.

"What I have already done." Will admitted aloud, the truth of it seeming more real now for some reason.

"How did it feel to kill?" Hannibal asked as he let go of the faun's throat to resume washing Will's curls with gentle hands.

"It's the ugliest feeling in the world." Will whispered out in a shaky, barely there voice like the life was being sucked out of him. Hannibal shook his head, knowing there was so much more there to bring out. He wouldn't let the faun hide inside of himself any longer.

"What else?" Hannibal murmured, letting his lips graze the shell of Will's ear, promptly turning it a bright red. Fauns were not one to shy away from intimacy though, Will turning his head to look at Hannibal straight on, his blue grey studying the wendigo's face. Hannibal realized the faun must of liked what he found there because he leaned in to brush their lips together, Will twisting in the wendigo's lap to face him. Desire made Will bold, the faun reaching up to cup Hannibal's face with his hands.

"It felt powerful. I felt powerful." Will said quietly, though his sparse words spoke volumes. Hannibal fought to keep a smile off of his face as he touched their foreheads together, and Will let him, the faun's horns indenting Hannibal's skin. They were not smooth or sharp like his own, feeling coarse to the touch.

"Who did you kill, sweet William?" Hannibal asked, pressing the issue even as Will's lips sought his own, a darting tongue enticingly teasing his bottom lips. Will would have drawn away if not for the wendigo's hands upon him, keeping him well in place.

"Another faun. His name was Garrett. He was trying to take Abigail away to his herd. She wanted to stay with Alana though. He wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. It all got out of hand so quickly…" Will stammered out, the recollection taking its toll upon him as the faun's trembling resume. In his mind, Will relived his moment of becoming, his rebirth.

It hadn't been much of a fight, but then fauns were peaceful creatures, not prone to violence, at least they were not suppose to be. Will had been able to tell that Garrett was the exception to this when he grabbed Abigail and tried to drag her away. While the rest of the herd had watched wide eyed and scared, Will had been the one to step in and take Abigail back. He would be lying to himself if he were to say he hadn't meant to kill Garret. That had been his intention all along as soon as the other faun had made his interest in Abigail known.

In Will's opinion, the only surprise was how easy it had been. The knife wasn't even much a weapon, just something Will had found in his wanderings, the metal of it rusted over and the blade dull. It had been sharp enough to pierce Garret's flesh though, over and over and over again. Alana's words still rung in Will's eyes, clear and sharp as a silver bell, had made his hooves fleet.

"Shhhh…" Hannibal soothed. It was enough for now, the admittance of murder making something blaze within the wendigo as he kissed the faun properly, their press of flesh firm and possessive.

Here, deep in the labyrinth and hidden in the woods of eyes, they had all the time in the world to discover each other.

OoOoO

The End