CHPT 262: Protect to Provide..

"What the hell is this?"

That was all he could mutter after witnessing the natural wooden cylindrical tower of a home Rollan lived in.

He had so many questions. So many....

Did Rollan behead all of the powerful looking Monsters and place the heads in jars himself-- or was he a collector? Were they even real? How was his home made? Why did he live here? The list went on endlessly, spinning new threads of webs that held a dozen more questions. All gone unanswered.

Rollan stumbled towards his "house" while Claude watched for an unknown span of time in shock. Before he could get any answers out of the man, he fell on his face and entered an impenetrable drunken sleep, letting out snores loud enough to wake the dead. Beforehand, he left Claude with one rule to work around in his absence.

"...D-Don't try to enter past the wo--....hehe...the wooden entryway, Monsieur. You will hurt yourself....possibly more so than you can handle, hm? We shall discuss in the morn--..." And then he was asleep.

His duty as protector of Rollan's home had begun in that moment...a little rockier than he was comfortable with, but he'd make it work if Rollan kept up his end of the bargain.

So, he got to work in the dark of night that seemed to fail in swallowing up all light, the forest still glowed.

He was no expert in protection jobs-- naturally, but with Arne's help-- and his own ideas, they did what they could.

Territory Marking....if he knew he stored so much magical piss within himself, he would've used the ability more often. He rounded the area in a wide stretch, marking everything he could. The bark of trees, the bulk of bushes, petals of flowers. It may have been Rollan's home. But within his first hour of attending, it became Lupine land.

Trap setting. He knew nothing of this, before becoming a Lupine, he never hunted. After becoming a Lupine he didn't need to use his smarts to hunt when he had enough brawn to devour a small village. So, Arne led him along the way like a teacher leading a student.

While he did so, manipulating thick strands of grass to grow and intertwine into tough vines that would function as a sort of rope, Arne gave him a history lesson. A telling of how he and his pack used the very trap-- among others, he was teaching Claude to ensure they were never on the receiving end of an assassination. Despite the Lupines incredible sensory capabilities, he'd learned from his Lupine guide that the Elves and their otherworldly stealthiness were a danger to all...

By the time it was all said in done, random parts of the grove-like forest were sprung with traps. Traps that would result in a decently sized rock landing on any attackers skulls if they made a wrong move. Nothing too intricate. Sometimes less was more. Other times, you had a pack of Wolven beasts on guard that worked even better than a set of novice level natural traps.

By the time the traps were set, he could almost feel the sun beginning to rise. He could feel the icy cold night being churned by the warm under currents of the rising sun in the midst of its ascent. But his work wasn't done. He was in a forest after all, the possibilities for more protection were endless...relatively endless.

He began doing what he did best with his Nature element. Spear crafting.

He crafted spears of all kinds, focusing heavily on thick pikes that he sunk into the ground around Rollan's home in "x" formations, tied together by braided vines until he was surrounded by wooden spiked barricades that circled the home like a primitive gate. Hiding them within the bushes he'd conjured from the dirt ground to make them look relatively harmless was just icing on the cake.

With that done, he did a recon run, allowing his anxiety to keep him wide awake as the sun continued its slow rise and signified that he'd stayed awake for more than twenty four hours again. It was only getting easier to do so.

By the time he returned back to the front of the home and plopped down next to Ursula and the Phantom Wolves, the sky that spread over them was splashed with shades of oranges and light blues as morning crept into existence.

His mind still ran despite his own physical fatigue. The same questions came in waves in response to his eyes wandering back to the impressive sight of the home....and the unconscious drunk laying in front of it. So many unanswered questions. But also a few that were answered on there own.

He quickly learned why protecting the man's home would prove difficult. In a way, the whole forest was home. It all connected, it all blended and morphed into an almost symbiotic existence. What ever tipped the balance of the beasts beyond and roamed the deserts seemed to threaten that symbiosis. And it was Claude and his packs job to thwart that threat, as a result, Ursula's rate of survival would rise.

The thought induced a feeling of hope that relaxed him enough to send him straight to the Astral Realm in a flash.

A place where he'd spend the rest of his night-- day.