Borogrove hadn’t gotten the best of him. Neither had the meandering, wandering paths between territories – those long swaths of lonely and unclaimed land that Jude had always been told were meant for a fox such as himself – but they’d certainly tried, these past few weeks. Death by boredom would be, he had decided, a remarkably uninspired way to go, and that had been the final nail in the coffin of his independence. Jude had always despised the emptiness of these places –– and wolves were so much more conversational than robins.

Borders were dangerous, though. Small, silent paws meant nothing to sharp eyes and keen noses, and even his arrogance could see value in respecting a mouth full of teeth, particularly when it was twice your size. Jude could feel more than see some shifting nearby – the motion of a shadow, perhaps, like displaced air in the fog – and he dropped one ear back, scanning the the forest’s undergrowth, quiet and still.

Wolves and their edgy love of atmosphere. His next pack, he thought, would be on a beach.

“I know you’re there,” he began, one paw raised just slightly, “and we both know you’re bigger than me, so the whole looming in the darkness thing is a little moot – but I’ll give you four out of five stars for your commitment to theatrics.”

“Do you now? How very perceptive of you,” a low, teasing voice echoed back at the fox. Foxes were known for their superior senses, after all, so how could the owner of the voice be offended at any implication otherwise? “But only four? I’m a creature who aspires for perfection, little gnat, and now you’ve put a challenge before me.”

Falco did not try to hide at that point; even in the fog the light bounced off his pale-furred back. If the fox had run the wolf would have chased because then it became a game, but the dust-and-sand colored canine stood his ground, used his words, and so Falco would as well. For now. Falco came at the little beast straight-on, tail up and stiffly wagging in a quiet dare to give into his fear. There was no hesitation. The wolf walked directly up to him and attempted to grab him with one paw, half-dragging the thing towards him and half-pinning him so he couldn’t run. Of course, the fox might know that if he was intended to die he might be dead already. (And the fox might escape, but unless he ran it was of no concern.)

“That smart mouth of yours must keep you alive,” Falco commented, staring hard at the interloper. “Where I grew up as a child, they would have expected me to kill you on the spot, but you’re hardly a meal and you’ve been blessed by running into a benevolent wolf. Lucky you.”

He laid down then, because it was unlikely the fox would run, and even the wolf had some strange need to get down on his level as long as they were speaking and no one was trying to eat the other.

“So what is it? Are you sweet for danger…or wolves, specifically? Wouldn’t it have been better to have never met me at all?” The faintest smile pulled at Falco’s lips, lighting up his eyes, because he knew the answer to that question even if he would never say it out loud. “Yet. Here you are. Curious.”

He missed Vesper, for just a moment. She’d reached for him, too, as careful as she was sure – as sure as the wolf in front of him was now, and he as steady and stubborn in response. It would kill him one day, he was certain. This willingness to let himself get swept up in silent defiance beneath the press of the larger wolf’s paw, as he had allowed Vesper to pin him. This determination not to show the fear so common for his species, or his size; Falco was rewarded with a quiver, a wide-eyed stare, and a swallow, but no more. Jude ran his tongue along his teeth, his lips pulled just slightly back, tail flickering once like a cat’s in annoyance.

“Ah. Big boy. Five stars it is, then.” He stretched, relaxing beneath the wolf’s paw, emphasizing his almost lazy compliance with not running and appreciating Falco’s effort to speak closer to his face. It did put a new emphasis on his mouth, though. All those teeth. “My mouth, and my luck. 100% success rate. It’d be a shame to spoil that streak.” The wolf, of course, might have prefered to play with his food, but it seemed rather pointless to consider that outcome – after all, as he’d said, no one had eaten him yet.

“Only sweet on the benevolent ones, love,” he replied smoothly, twisting beneath the paw upon him to stare at Falco upside-down, eyes gleaming. “Blessing me like some kind of saint. Are you somebody, here, somebody dangerous, that I shouldn’t’ve met?” Jude’s responding smile split his narrow muzzle broadly, his head tipped to one side. “Or do you think so poorly of yourself that my life might not be improved by having you in it? Somehow, you know – somehow, you don’t strike me as that humble.”

Falco’s grip relaxed as the fox’s body did; maybe it was the clever intentions of the stranger to make the wolf relax his hold, so he could easily slip away, but Falco was unconcerned. The alternative was crushing him to death and while that could be fun for a while it wasn’t quite as satisfying as the chase. Falco never pegged himself as a gambler, but he couldn’t deny his canine nature. Maybe that was the reason he was giving the fox so many chances to run, but the little thing seemed content to use Falco’s massive paws as a personal blanket and the wolf indulged him without complaint.

“I’m glad to have finally, after all this time, gained your full approval,” Falco said, his voice almost too flat in his sarcasm, his eyes intense on his minute prize. Falco held his tongue on the topic of luck. They would see if the fox would keep up his streak. Only one of them was keeping count.

“’Love’? You are surprisingly unsubtle, but maybe that’s why they let you get away with it. It’s rare to find an individual so aware of their own qualities,” Falco commented with an unchanging stare. The fox moved easily under his loose paw. He laughed at the fox’s words but it sounded cold in his throat. “To you, fox, I am always somebody, even if I were nobody, but I’m guessing that isn’t the answer you were looking for. Here I am The Magus. Some call themselves “alpha” and others call themselves “kings” and “queens” but those titles are far too reductive and boring to suit me. I’m sure you understand, with your astute eye for my humility.”

The wolf’s eyes tried to relax though it was a barely noticeable gesture considering their natural state, “I think the true answer to your question is the answer to my own: are you somebody to me, fox?”

Could he be somebody to The Magus? It was not Falco who sat himself on the scales waiting for judgement. Maybe the fox should worry, but he certainly had the right words to say, as he always would.

He made no move to writhe or struggle. He simply laid himself out beneath Falco’s paw, belly-up and relaxed – if not for that pesky heartbeat skipping so brightly beneath the wolf’s pawpads, that troublesome pulse of his still humming in his veins. Wolves were all the same, though. So easily reminded of their size, so amused at their casual mastery of him in comparison; Jude did not expect Falco to be different, not yet, but he was willing to be proven wrong. Hoped for it, even. For now, though, the Magus fell into the same neat lines as always: sweet whispers of my, how large your teeth are, like Jude was little more than a curiosity. It would be demeaning if it hadn’t kept him alive this long.

Did the wolf feel a small thrill knowing the fox was afraid? That Jude risked this anyway, despite how closely he could smell the Magus’ very breath—? The fox suspected it only helped his case. Who better to make feel powerful than those in power?

“Then my luck continues, as I would’ve hated to make a fool of myself like this for anyone less.” His speech was as try as it was praising.  “Have you got a name, as well? I can stick with Magus, if you’re so fond of the mystery. But you can call me Jude.” The fox blinked, wondering at the wolf – if he was who he said, if he had any real power here. If he was as clever as he was large.

“I suppose that depends on if you want a somebody. It’s easy to be a nobody, as a fox. And sometimes a nobody is valuable.” Turning, Jude leaned onto his side, his eyes bright and sharp as the watched the wolf loom above him. “I’ve a talent for being in the right place at the right time. For talking, certainly. And for listening…” He smiled again, rolling his slim shoulders in the vulpine equivalent of a shrug. “Call me convincing, maybe. Or just ears where yours aren’t. All yours, for the low price of making sure no one lays a tooth on me.” A beat. He took another risk. “And yours alone.”

Falco felt the pulse through his paws, a steady reminder that both were still alive, and the problem with life being that it was so addicting to continue despite every reason to not. Falco did not revel in the fear of something that was as natural as breathing; wolves killed and ate foxes on the regular and foxes wanted to live. There was no power in that, not the kind that mattered to the Magus.

“My name is Falco, Jude,” the wolf introduced himself properly,”and does it make you feel so foolish? Are there other foxes waiting in the shadows, silently judging you? A budding fox infestation in my own lands? You would think they would feel forgiving towards your situation, but perhaps foxes are particularly petty. Maybe they are waiting for me to bite off your head so they can snicker at your brutal and untimely death. That would make them more like my subjects than anyone. Perhaps I will be The Magus of the foxes yet.”

Falco’s looked up from Jude and towards the murky, fog-cloaked forest that surrounded them, but he knew there were no other foxes. The wolf’s eyes darted back suddenly at Jude as he offered his proposition. Surprise at first, followed by a low chuckle.

“Interesting. You want to be a keeper of secrets and whispers. If you can’t live up to your promise, you’ll undoubtedly be ripped apart, not necessarily by me. If you can do all that you claim and survive, it is an awful lot of power to be entrusted into one tiny beast I’ve only just met,” Falco pondered out loud. “Think of all the secrets you could keep from me, if you wanted, the games you could play. The price you ask is only a small impossibility; this kingdom was a rabble of backstabbing, slavering barbarians when I came upon it, and I’ve yet to change their ways. Make them civilized. They only let me lead them because they would tear each other apart without any order and they want to live.”

A feeling Jude shared with them, for sure.

“I would’ve hated to roll around in the dirt all demure, you know, only to find you were no king at all. Just a king of a lonely, dirt-covered fox.” He blinked lazily upwards, wondering when the wolf would grow bored of him – would crush him beneath those large paws, or scruff him and carry him off, or simply drive him away for the thrill of the hunt. So long as it wasn’t the former, Jude supposed he no longer preferred between the other options. It would be better, of course, to gain something out of this than to simply be dropped in a lake for his trouble, but the fox suspected that Falco was no fool. King of them, maybe. But clever enough to survive, and thoughtful enough not to simply kill the fox in an instant.

That made them something like companions, surely.

“You asked what I could to for you, not to convince you of it. I assume our Lord Magus would not put all his faith in one tiny beast.” He quirked a crooked little smile, shrugging. “It is no different than if I were a wolf, offering to protect your borders and not run, or to hunt your meat and not poison you. To fight for you and not against you, or whatever it is you wolves are good at swearing.” Tipping his head to the side, he dropped his chin to one small forepaw, though it made watching Falco’s massive head a strain on his eyes. “You would let them attempt all that, and if they failed, I am sure your backstabbing rabble would kill them just as they would me. Don’t act as though I’m any different for being honest about my services.” Why would he be here, otherwise? What would he be?

He had, after all, lasted this long.

“Amusing as this all is, I’ve nothing to gain out of games. You said it yourself – I would prove myself, or I would die, and you would still know better than to trust me completely.” His grey eyes gleamed, his pupils small even in the shadows. “So what’ve you got to lose, really -- and what do you stand to gain?”

“Would you have hated it?” Falco doubted Jude’s claims out loud, thoughtful in his tone, steadily holding his gaze on the fox. Because as Falco said, to a fox, he was always someone wasn’t he? He didn’t need a kingdom to lord over a lone fox it just happened that he had one and the fox wanted to neatly insert himself into it. So be it. Falco would not argue with those aspirations and the fox knew it. Falco was quickly finding the kingdom he had taken filled with secrets and lies, but here the wolf and the fox easily laid down their wants for one another with the confidence of individuals who had no reason to disguise their thoughts as anything else. That was a thing Falco could appreciate.

“Fair points,” The Magus was not so prideful he couldn’t admit to his error but his expression was as cold as ever. Falco said nothing for a while, his silence an answer: don’t claim I didn’t warn you. Any wolf could betray the Magus, but they had a chance, however slim, to survive. Could this fox say the same?

Probably. His tongue was thick with silver. He could say many things.

Falco let out a short grunt of a laugh and pulled back his paw, freeing the fox from his shackles. “Alright. Be mine, if that is what you want, and I will try to keep the savages from eating you, though I suspect my assistance won’t be needed. Stay alive and we can put you to better use. Is that what you want, Jude? Enough power under those crafty little paws that the wolves will protect you? Who could blame you? I certainly don’t.”