Chapter Text
Cities had always fascinated him.
The comings and goings, the processes and the functions, the constant liveliness and the constant development. The nightlife and the morning bustle. The neon signs and flashing lights. Everything here was overly curated and maintained. To the cityscape, the design, culture, even the weather. Nothing was allowed to be unpredictable or left to their own devices. Most curious to him was how verdancy couldn’t grow too wild or too out of bounds where it could be overhanging and obtrusive. It was all an interesting contrast to his natural habitat. To his calling. Where everything was allowed to be itself, to what natural instincts derived and what nature had intended.
It had been hard to get used to it at first as a youngster. Especially having to hide his ears and his tail from everyone. At home, with his clan, doing so was considered improper or just down right odd. But that wasn’t to say living in a city after growing up in a forest most of your life was ever easy. He had his challenges, setbacks and obstacles, and a lot of embarrassing moments. Most notably when it came to human social customs, cultural norms, etiquette and behavior. And learning what was acceptable and what was downright rude or bizarre. For one, sniffing and scenting. Something that was so integral to him at his core and which was seen as normal back home but very creepy in human society. It didn’t help in the slightest that a lot of people wore artificial perfumes and colognes, masking their real scents or their overuse of it that irritated his sensitive sense of smell.
Being in Linkon City showed how different it was from the forest but also how it also mirrored it as well. Different contexts, different contents but it ran so similarly. Just like nature, even here there was a hierarchy. A natural order to things. A system derived fully on those on the top of the food chain and those at the bottom. Predation in the form of exploitation, overconsumption and corporate greed. Despite the differences and similarities, to him Linkon City was still nothing compared to the forest, far in the outskirts from its city limits. It was more of a concrete jungle. Buildings that towered above, reaching up towards the sky like trees did. Trunks of tempered glass, steel beams and cement. Canopies of solar panels. Burls of satellite dishes and HVAC units.
It was an artificial imitation of natural occurrence.
But over time and through exposure and understanding, he adapted. Had hid his true nature, curated his behavior and learned to control his instincts. Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, no pun intended, he played the role he needed to and integrated himself perfectly.
Wolves rule the wilderness and in no time, they would do the same here.
But even with adaptation, learning to live as he was in a city full of people with an entirely different lifestyle to his clan’s own, he could only suppress his true self for so long. By day he was a chairman for EonCore Technology and by night, especially on a night like this, he was a wolf. True, wild and free. At least until the early hours of dawn when he inevitably had to step back into his role and the responsibilities that it came with. For now though, he would enjoy his little “Me Time” as he liked to call it, no matter how short-lived it was.
The warm summer night was nice and mellow, perfect for his night runs. A much needed relief from all the heat and humidity of the day. He was usually a huge fan of summertime but it was an entirely different experience in the city compared to the forest. For one, it made his hair and fur get all frizzy. His poor tail got all big and poofy. And it also meant he would start shedding on top of that. Getting rid of his winter coat.
It was still hot obviously but with the constant shade and the trees it helped insulate against the sweltering temperatures. However with the city, with barely any copses, it was constant and uninterrupted sun exposure. Sunlight beat down on everything. All that concrete and steel only absorbed all that heat, not dispersing it. Luckily for him, during the day, during work hours, he spent most of his time inside with the air conditioning. So it wasn't like he was being cooked alive the entire day. But still, he much preferred to experience summer back at home.
His night runs weren’t spent on the ground, following hiking trails in the municipal parks or down the streets. It was spent high above. Running and jumping on building rooftops, through the gaps between buildings and parkouring across. Making his own path forward. The constant rise and fall, the running and jumping, the different elevation and varying terrain was thrilling to him both physically and mentally. It was like a makeshift jungle gym, an obstacle course and a rock climbing center all rolled into one.
It was here high above it all where he had a better view of his territory and also where he was closest to the moon. Light pollution had long snuffed out the stars in the city’s night sky. But it could never really do the same to the moon. He climbed up onto a building ledge, taking a quick breather and looked up to admire it. Tonight it was almost full. But it wasn’t just another full moon but a supermoon. A once-in-a-century, rare celestial spectacle apparently. So much so that it was all over his feed on Moments and on the news. Even Linkon's Astronomy and Weather Forecast had a 24-hour livestream of a countdown to it.
But because of that, it was getting harder to repress the wolf inside of him. For the past few days, he felt more restless than what was normal when it came to past full moons. Pacing around like a caged animal, not being able to focus. It wasn’t an uncommon thing. Being cooped up inside almost all day and doing boring business meetings had that effect on him. But he could manage it fairly well and get away with a certain grace period before inevitably his instincts screamed at him to go outside and touch grass. His night runs were preferable and more effective during times like this but it was not sustainable in the long run given his occupation. Plus he needed to get his sleep. He could get away with releasing all that energy by going to the gym. He more than earned the title of being an official gym rat at this point.
Under the glow of the partial moon, a soft warm breeze blew. Brushed along his sweat-soaked skin and flowed through the fur of his ears. He took in a breath, nostrils flaring, smelling the breeze for anything interesting. He had been running for a few hours now but he still felt that untamed wilderness still thrumming beneath his skin. He hoped to catch a scent of a wanderer or two, maybe more, in his territory. Something to hunt down and fight.
Recently, with abnormal fluctuations in the Deepspace Tunnel theorized to be due to the upcoming supermoon or vice versa, the Hunters Association had their hands full with a spike of energy fluctuations and an influx of wanderers popping up around the city. Although he didn’t personally consider himself a vigilante by any means, defeating wanderers just for the greater good of the city. His hunting was purely for sport, for recreational activities. And for more protocores of course to add to his collection and for his research purposes. But he supposed it was killing two birds with one stone in a way. Helping out without meaning to.
Without picking the scent of any wanderers, he decided to move on. Jumping from the ledge down and landing onto the highest story of a parking garage below. And continuing on with his nightly prowl around his territory.
From the looks of it, it was going to be just a normal night this time around. Still, he wanted to look around some more.
Not finding anything, he decided to loop back around and head back to the inner city. He fought that giant wanderer there the last time weeks ago. Maybe he’d run into another one. They liked to wander into populated areas. The buildings nearby were almost all corporate so it meant they were all tall and sleek, making for good vantage points to scope out the area. Below him, people were still out and about even at such a later hour, reminding him of little bugs scampering about in the undergrowth. But it was not a huge surprise that there were still a good amount of people given the night life and establishments opened until midnight around here. Like moths to a flame, the same could be said about night owls and a city that never sleeps. With people around, he would have to keep that in mind if he ended up finding anything worth hunting.
Soon, he moved on again, wandering to the lower districts. Not out of city bounds but in the outer parts of it. It mostly consisted of warehouses, storage units, factories, scrapyards, and other facilities. In contrast, it was more dark and gloomy here, the lights of the city in the distance. Easier to not be spotted and dead silent. Nobody was around for meters. But that soft warm breeze remained, blowing more fervently here without all the close-knot infrastructure that diverted and weakened the airflow. But he still was not finding something, anything in the air.
It was only when he landed on top of a metal industrial depot that he realized that he was being tailed. Even with his senses being heightened from the onset of a full moon, it was still subtle but there. He was being watched from afar and followed at a safe distance. He had an inkling earlier but had brushed it off, thinking it was nothing but the wind. That lingering anticipation for a fight that made him focus mainly on finding wanderers. On being the hunter not the hunted.
He wasn’t entirely surprised by it. He dealt with it enough during the day even during his off-hours. Not nearly as often as when he was first appointed chairman where it was practically an everyday attempt. Luckily it wasn’t the same case now. Not happening as much. Private investigators and corporate espionage, rivals trying to keep tabs on him. Or trying to bug his office or his cars. Even going so far as to try and do the same with his computer. It came with the industry. But he doubted it had to do with that. He had precautions and safety protocols in place so he could go on his night prowls with a peace of mind that people couldn’t put two-and-two together. His true form wouldn’t be tied with his public image and his occupation. Given the whole having ears, claws and a tail. The metal muzzle he was wearing also helped further to conceal his identity and hide his facial features.
He wondered if it was a surveillance drone. It had the precise, smooth flight path of one. But he didn’t hear that distinctive sound of a low whirring electrical hum. Barely audible to human ears, unless it was up close, but to him it was perceivable. No, this thing in particular was practically silent like an owl’s wings. His lips curled up at the edge slightly, interested as he realized that it was made to be undetectable by non-humans like him. He continued on with his roaming, pretending to not know that he was being followed, and went deeper into the lower district at the edge of his territory. He could probably lose whatever was following him if he was quick enough but wasn’t keen on doing so. This was the most exciting thing to happen all night. It wasn’t often he got to experience being hunted. Having the tables turned on him.
It looked like he had to make whatever was following him put in a little more effort.
He darted off the depot. Parkoured and pranced about, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, taking sudden twists and turns, climbing high up then nosediving down. All that and he was still being tailed. Whatever was following kept up with him fairly well but to do so it had to adjust by descending down and getting closer in order to not lose track of him.
A possible opportunity he wouldn’t ignore.
He ran across the roofs of a cluster of brick buildings. Ahead, in the distance, was a warehouse. And between them was a wide gap between it and the buildings he was on. His trajectory was clear, aiming to cut across that gap in one giant leap. The only problem was that the warehouse was a bit taller. Not an issue if not for the sloping roof. He would collide right into the wall without something to help him ramp across to get onto the roof. All without having to use his claws to catch himself and scale up the sides, which would undoubtedly cause damage to the warehouse. Which he didn’t want to do. Even then, he only ran faster as if he was chasing the night, not intending to stop in the slightest.
There was a growing gathering of dark metal, catching the light and shine of the moon. Small granules materialized from thin air, growing bigger and sharper. Heavy shards clustered together around him as if he was magnetic. He gestured, brought his right arm up in a flexing motion. Immediately the metal shards shot forward, sticking to the edge of the final rooftop just before the gap. Upon contact, it grew and spread out like the crawl of frostbite, coating the surface area. Reacting and rising up, it formed a makeshift metal ramp ahead of him.
He jumped off the edge of it. But instead of cutting cleanly across the gap between the buildings, he aimed downwards. To throw off his little follower. Letting himself fall down, he grabbed onto a ledge of a foundational pillar and kicked off its side, propelling himself up and back up the gap towards the building he jumped from. Reaching up to catch whatever was following behind diligently. There was a loud caw, one full of surprise, and a rapid sequence of flapping wings as whatever it was swiftly maneuvered. Only to just narrowly avoid his claws. He landed back onto his metal ramp with a roll before standing, his chest rising and falling. Whatever it was swiftly made itself scarce. Flying away and disappearing into the night. He looked down to his closed fist and slowly unfurled it.
There, in the center of his palm, laid a single sable feather. Glinting underneath the pale moonlight.