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Alexander didn’t move for a long moment. Alistair’s name still echoed in his chest, quiet, fragile and real. A demon offering his true name wasn’t just unusual; it was nearly unheard of. It was an instinctive reveal of trust… or recklessness… or something Alexander didn’t have words for. And that was what unsettled him most. Because he knew what he was supposed to feel. Caution. Duty. Every teaching from his father urged him to treat this as a threat. But the only thing Alexander felt was concern. Alistair had been shaking. Breathing shallow. Barely holding himself upright in the holy pressure surrounding the mountain. But he still had made jokes and snarky remarks. The moment he’d turned and fled, Alexander had instinctively taken a step forward wanting to reach out, wanting to steady him, wanting to help before remembering that helping a demon was not something priests did. His father’s voice scolded him from memory. A demon reveals its name only for manipulation. Knowing it gives you power—use it. Eliminate threats before they fester. But his heart whispered another truth. He was in pain. He was scared. Why shouldn’t I care? Every piece of doctrine, every lesson carved into his upbringing screamed at him to pursue, to finish what tradition demanded to kill the demon before it turns its fangs on the world. But Alexander didn’t move. Instead, he stood there, breath unsteady, palm still half-raised in the direction Alistair had fled. Because beneath all that learned instinct, beneath the rigidity, the weight of destiny, the expectations pressed into his ribs from childhood something else stirred. Curiosity. The moment Alistair’s name left his lips, soft and trembling, Alexander had felt something inside him shift like a door long nailed shut had creaked open just enough to let in moonlight. He was drawn to him. To the truth in Alistair’s voice. To the way he resisted lying. To the vulnerability that slipped through the cracks despite the demon’s attempts to hold himself together. And there was more, something unnamed, humming beneath his skin. Why…? Why do I want to help him? Why can’t I walk away? His father would call it corruption. But Alexander knew corruption. He felt it in spirits twisted by grief and rage, in cursed relics steeped in malice. What he sensed from Alistair wasn’t corruption. It was…Exhaustion. Loneliness that mirrored his own too closely for comfort. And Alexander believed that even demons deserved the chance to choose differently. Alex stood alone in the fog for a long while, staring in the direction Alistair vanished, his fingers still tingling from the urge to hold him up. “…Alistair,” he whispered to the empty air, “I hope you’re safe.” And then he turned to get back home. - A Few Days Later – The past days were… inconvenient because Alexander couldn’t stop thinking about him. He thought about Alistair in the middle of morning prayer, when he should have been focusing on the sutras, his voice faltering for half a second as the image of red eyes filled his mind. He thought about him during purification rituals, where the talismans warmed under his touch but his mind drifted to how Alistair had nearly collapsed trying to approach the mountain. He even thought about him during exorcisms. During one ceremony, an older monk whispered, “Alexander, your concentration is wavering.” He apologized, bowed and continued perfectly regaining his focus on the ritual immediately. But the moment he exhaled, the memory of Alistair’s strained breathing returned. Why? Why was he thinking about him? He didn’t understand. He had never reacted this way to anyone. Let alone a demon. His chest tightened every time he remembered how Alistair tried to joke through the pain, how he hid his trembling, how he still smiled at Alex despite the burning light. And then another feeling settled in…worry. Is he still hurt? Did he make it to his home safely? He did looked better when he left…Will he come back? He did asked /when?/ and I’ve told him but then again he is a demon and they can lie, but he hasn’t lied when we spoke... He sighed shaking his head to clear his mind for the 100th time as he was telling himself that it was just unfinished business. Just concern for a living creature in distress. Nothing odd. Nothing more. But he found himself looking toward the base of the mountain whenever he could, each time feeling a strange mix of hope. When news came that his father and the senior monks would leave that day for a large ritual in the city, Alexander’s heart gave a small, guilty flutter. The temple would be quiet, watched only by a handful of gentle old monks who adored Alexander too much to question his whereabouts. A perfect window. Still, sneaking out of the Sato Temple wasn’t easy. Holy barriers, patrolling talismans, prayer wards, they were meant to keep darkness out, but they also kept him in. Slipping past them required finesse. He wrapped a thin layer of spiritual light around himself, dimming it to a flicker just enough to blur his presence without fully extinguishing it. Like hiding a candle flame behind cupped palms. He moved barefoot over the polished wood floors, his steps silent, his breaths quiet prayer as he past the sleeping monks. Then past the prayer hall where bells rested in stillness. Past the moon-gate arch where his mother once walked her last steps. And then out into the misty mountain air. It felt different now, charged with anticipation. He kept telling himself it was just curiosity. Just unfinished business. But the truth curled warm and persistent in his chest. He wanted to see Alistair again. That, if the demon was coming back as they promised. But then again he didn’t told him an actual day so it was a big possibility that the demon got bored or angry of waiting for him to show up. Why do I hope for him to be there? From his point of view I am an enemy and yet, he didn’t stepped away when I helped him so … maybe he doesn’t see me as a threat … He descended the mountain path with practiced ease, lost in his inner thoughts as he was navigating stones and roots with the grace of someone who knew this trail far too well for someone who was “never allowed to leave.” And then, at the base of the mountain, beneath the old cypress tree, he felt him. Felt his demonic aura like a small spark of energy and right away saw him. Alistair hidden in the shade, his presence cloaked but he still sensed it, hair tousled by the morning breeze, eyes lifted to the clouds like he’d been waiting longer than he wanted to admit. Alexander stopped several paces away, heart stumbling. He came back.He actually came back. Alexander’s smile was small, warm, and unintentionally disarming. “…Alistair.” The demon stiffened. Alexander exhaled softly, something like warmth tugging at the corners of his lips. “You showed up,” he said gently. He stepped closer, earnest eyes studying Alistair’s face, the way his disguise flickered faintly at the edges. “I’m glad you’re here.” Alistair blinked at him like that was not at all the reaction he’d been prepared for. Alex approached until they were just a few steps apart, head tilted with gentle earnestness. “I wanted to ask… are you still in pain? From before?” When he noticed that Alistair was starring at him he continued. “You got very close to the barrier last time,” Alex said, completely serious. “It must have been excruciating. The mountain’s holy pressure can be… harsh.” And then, with innocent concern, he reached out and rested a light hand on Alistair’s shoulder. A brief check. A simple spiritual reading. But to a demon? It felt like being touched by sunlight. Alistair’s breath hitched sharply, color rising to his cheeks, energy fluttering wildly. Alexander withdrew his hand immediately, worried and eyes widen. “I’m sorry! I … I didn’t meant to …” he looked worried that he might have injured him. Alex hadn’t thought in the moment as this little check up routine that was so casual to him would was bad for demons. “I’m sorry again …” he said holding his hands together to keep himself from touching again. “Thank you though… for coming back. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better”. He stepped a little closer, just a little, so their shadows touched in the soft morning light. “If you’re feeling well enough…” Alex began, gentle and timid but hopeful, “would you like to walk with me? Down the forest path. Or… even into the city, if you want. I thought it might be less suffocating than staying still here.” His eyes softened with concern. “Unless you’re still too tired? I don’t mind staying. We can sit for a bit but somewhere away from the main path please.”

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Alistair was suprised that Alexander seemed to show genuine concern for him, enough to intervene. [ “I can't... purify your energy, It would hurt you and I don't want that." ] This was a perfect opportunity for the priest to kill him...and yet. He extended his hand out to him. [ “…I could carry you, further down the path. Away from the pressure.”] Alistair was confused. Why would he do something like that? " I-im fine..ha..ah.." He lied through his teeth, trying to stand. [ “I only meant … so you can breathe.”] The priest seemed conflicted. Like he was stuck between two choices, looking back to the temple and him. He wished he knew what the young man was thinking. Was he debating on killing him here, capturing him, or perhaps leaving him. Regardless, he had over stayed his welcome. He needed to leave, and quickly. He wiped his brow, removing sweat from his forehead as he straightened himself out, planning to do this alone. [ “Look,"] The blonde got closer, now he was so close that they could touch each other. Their auras reacting to one another. [ "I have to return before someone notices I'm gone. But if I leave you here like this..." (....) “…I'll worry.”] "Worry? Ha..ha..A-about little...old me.." He teased, but this human seemed determined. He didnt get a chance to say any more witty comments as the priest helped him to his feeg. He took his arm and threw it over his shoulder, his other hand wrapping around his waist. Was this actually happening? A priest....helping a demon? He was speechless as they started to walk, and Alexander told him that they'd see each other again in a few days when he could sneak away without his father knowing. Alistair avoided eye-contact as they walked. There was something about Alexander aurora. It was so warm and welcoming...his touch gentle...but why? Shouldn't it burn? Shouldn't he hate becoming engulfed in such a feeling... ( I dont....hate it...) He thought, the two now walking in silence. Time had moved so quickly. He was so lost in his thoughts that it didnt even occur to him to protest or resist. [ “Safe …”] ( what?) He blinked, rising his head and seeing that they were at the base of the mountain. (W-what just happened...did I actually...let my guard down?) His grip loosened and Alistair immediately pulled away. Already feeling better now that he was no longer breathing the mountains mist and being crushed by spiritual pressure. He was starting to breath normally again. [ “Then I’ll see you next time”] He bit his lip. More confused and upset then ever. He wanted to yell at him. Call him stupid for even trusting and helping someone like him. Question if he was even sain! He took a step toward him, his body moving on its own as if to catch him, but Alistair stopped himself just as the priest looked back at him. Those eyes... Alistair struggled to understand what he saw behind those beautiful eyes of his. "You're not...scared of me?" He whispered. [ “What should I call you? You do have a name don’t you?”] (My...name?) His eyes widened ever so slightly. His instincts told him to lie, but something deeper inside him desperately wanted to tell Alexander the truth. Wanted this human to say his name...would it sound different coming from a priests mouth? "A-..." He hesitated. He shook his head, turning away. " Alistair..." He immediately regretted it. He turned away and ran...he didn't want the priest to see his reaction and he desperately needed to get as far away from this boy as possible. What the hell was he feeling? And why was he so pissed off? And why was he looking forward to seeing him again?! [ A few days later ] Needless to say, the job he had originally agreed to was canceled after his encounter with Alexander. The boy was untouchable and unreadable...a anominally that he'd only ever read about in stories. Any other weaver would of tried to kill him or stay away from him...but for some reason Alistair was feeling drawn to him. Without any form of communication it was hard to figure out when Alexander might decend the mountai again, so he stayed in the boys home town, crashing at a Inn, and waiting for the moment he'd sense the boys spiritual pressure. His was like nothing Alistair had ever encountered. It left like a sunset kissing your skin, or the wave of relief you feel after fear took over for years. A hug from someone you desperately missed....a warm flickering flame that danced in a dark space. The longer he waited the more impatience and irritated he became. Emotions rather foreign to him. He had never been on someone else's time, the experience was mentally excruciating. Today he found himself standing at the bottom of the mountain, the sun just starting to rise, the same place where they had went their separate ways just days ago. He found himself a spot under a shady tree, hiding his presence and demonic pressure, his eyes a soft brown color. He sighed counting the clouds in the sky. ( What am I even doing here....) He could be killed, especially being this close to a temple and holy mountain, he was just asking for trouble. ( but...hes here..) His mine trying to convince him that this was a good enough reason to be this reckless, and put his life on the line. 'Because he was here' Who the heck was Alexander Sato... @mik3la

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Kaito didn't realize he'd been holding himself so tightly until Asher touched him. That sent a rush of heat through him so suddenly he almost forgot how to breathe. His wolf reacted first, quicker than he could: a deep, started thrum of want, of recognition, curling up from the center of him. (He accepts us.) (He chooses us.) The word pulsed through him, bright and terrifying. Kaito swallowed hard, heat rising behind his eyes before he could stop it. Asher wasn't rejecting him. Not even hesitating. Not even flinching at what he was. A mage, an wolf. A hybrid to be exact. Something the old stories whispered warnings about. But Asher looked at him like he was something precious. Something wanted. Something enough. (He wants us. Trust him) Kaito's chest pulled tight, pain and hope twisting together until it physically hurt to breathe “Asher…” His voice softly. The wolf inside him pressed closer, brushing up against him warm, steadying, almost purring at the reassurance in Asher's tone. “You don't... you don't know what that means to me,” he managed, mirroring Asher's words in breath more than sound. His fingers twitched as if they wanted to reach back, to touch him, to anchor himself to those steady amber eyes, but he held himself still, afraid the shaking in his hands would give him away. Afraid the emotion would spill over. “You say I'm enough like it's simple,” he whispered, voice trembling with something fragile but growing. "Like you don't care that I don't fit anywhere. Not with humans, not with mages... not with wolves. Hybrids aren't exactly welcome in any story from what we’ve read." His wolf let out a soft, defensive growl at the memory, rejections, rumours, fear, every old wound stirred up by the thought of stepping into a pack's territory. “And you…” Kaito pressed his lips together, eyes flicking down then back up, unable to hold the full weight of Asher's warmth for long. "You're offering me your pack. Your family. A home." He shook his head slightly, overwhelmed. “ … the way you say it... you make it sound like it could be a home. Like I could have that but you don't understand, Asher. Wolves don't trust magic. Mages don't trust wolves. And hybrids … people like me …. usually don't get invited anywhere. If the legends mention us, it's as mistakes or warnings." His voice dipped, softer. "So when you said I could come with you... part of me felt honoured. And another part felt like I couldn't breathe. Because I wouldn't want to walk into a place where people look at me the way legends say they should. Like I'm wrong. Like I shouldn't exist." His wolf pushed forward again, brushing Kaito's skin from the inside, steady and persistent. (He won't abandon us. Don't run.) (Go with him.) Kaito exhaled shakily. “And before you you say anything… no.” His gaze hardened, determining settling into his bones like a rising tide. "“…I'm not hiding while you go after the people who came after us,” Kaito said, the softness fading into steel. “I won't sit somewhere safe while you and your brother take all the risk. I won't let you face them without me.” His wolf snarled in fiery agreement, all instincts sharp and ready. “I'm going with you,” Kaito said firmly. "Not because I need to prove anything, but because I won't let you walk into danger alone. You're not the only one with something at stake." He paused then let himself tell the truth. "My wolf won't let me. And... I don't want to." His heart thudded once, hard. Kaito's voice softened again, vulnerability curling around the edges like smoke. “And if your pack rejects me…” He hesitated; the words heavy. “If they see a hybrid before they see me…”he swallowed. “Just … don't step away from me because of them. Don't let their fear decide anything between us.” His wolf pressed close, humming, hopeful but Kaito's voice dropped, almost a whisper. "And if you still want me there... if you really mean it, then I'll go. With you. Wherever this leads." He took a small, steadying breath. “Just… don’t let go of me when we get there."