<> Timothy kicked up a swirl of wind as he leapt forward out of cover. Crisp turned in shock as he landed, hard, the wind billowing around him dramatically like he'd just teleported. Timothy took a steadying breath, and set his jaw, standing up tall to make himself look witchy and imposing. Of course, given how short he was, he kinda needed to. <>

The Ganth crouched into a combative posture, snarling that same terrible snarl. Then, it spoke, in the ‘Ganth language of smell, sound, and posture. <>

Witches learned to attune themselves to the world of beasts. Their meaning came through, conveyed by whatever means their species preferred, and he used his spirit’s senses to listen and understand them, and even talk back. It was what set witches apart from other magicians— anyone who wanted could pick up the basics of using wildtongues, but witches specialized in learning its every nuance, making it their lives. It ran off magic, like most things in this world, but it was the result of years of practice and training, too; it wasn't as simple as waving your hands and suddenly understanding. Luckily, Timothy was real good.

So it was that he could answer. <> He thanked the shadows that he remembered which Humoganth was which. This one had a faint redness at the base of its body, that tapered to a cinder-filled black by the time it reached its head. He let the windburst die out, but kept a thin stream flowing through his robes, adding an otherworldly billow to his every move. Not a threat, exactly, but an intimidation move all the same. Humoganths hated strong wind.

<> The Humoganth growled low. <>

<<"Hey, easy. I ain’t here to steal your food, ‘zactly.">> Timothy nodded, switching to Kinnic while keeping the wildtongues effect going. <<"Fact is, though, neighbor to neighbor, eatin' that is a real bad idea.">>

It dug a claw into the dirt, leaving a long furrow, keeping its eyes on him. <> Its tail flicked, its ears pinned back. It knew of him from his pride, and Timothy sensed it was wary of him. This wasn’t ego talking; if push came to shove, he was as dangerous to Crisp as Crisp was to him. Neither of’em were in shape for a fight though, so it’d be in his best interest to keep this an argument. Didn’t mean he had to let Crisp know that, though. The witch idly flicked his wrist, and the beast flinched.

<<"Mmhmm. Crisp, do you know what you've got up there?">>

The 'ganth rolled its eyes. A feat, given they were literally glowing red-grey jewels. <<"A kindre. Beyond that, I don’t really care, as long as it has blood and spirit to eat.">>

Wow, he really didn't know? Timothy smiled wickedly. <"Sorry, but no. You’ve treed a dragon."> He said that last word with the weight of a tombstone falling. The smoke cat flinched, and Timothy almost blew out a sigh of relief; it knew what a dragon was, at least. Still, he kept up the stern witch act.

<> The cat puffed its chest out with bravado-- but Timothy had done that enough times himself to know he was rattled, and faking. <>

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That was the law of the wild, after all. Okay, now what… Ganths are stubborner than I am. Normally I can respect that, but right now… ugh. Not only that, but if I tick it off enough it’ll stalk me forever to get back at me. Gotta play this just right… The two slowly circled, the ‘Ganth keeping both he and the kid in its peripheral vision so the witch couldn’t just blast her into the canopy or something. Not that it’d be a good idea. Timothy thought harder. I can smell it getting nervous. It’s young, and it’s got an ego, but I gotta be able to push its buttons if I just— ooh, I know!

<<“Hey, let’s not get tense, here.”>> Timothy stepped forward, drawing a hiss from the ‘ganth. He ignored it. <<“Listen up. If you kill a dragon, y’know what’ll happen?”>> He deliberately looked around like they had eavesdroppers, and stage-whispered, <<“You’re gonna bring its family!”>>

Crisp hissed even louder and stepped back. <>

And Timothy shook his head. <<“I’m sure. But she doesn’t have to.”>> He broadly waved towards the dragon and the sky. <<“All dragons are connected through deep magic. If her fire dies, her family will know. And they’ll come for revenge.”>> Actually, Timothy had no idea how the dragons’ “Great Link” worked, but he was betting he knew better’n the cat!

The grass beneath the 'ganth began to brown as its hackles and body heat rose. <>

Come on, take the bait… He drew on everything he supposedly knew from the storytellers back home. <<"How sure of that are you?">> His voice fell low and dark, the kind of voice that forced your audience to lean in, and strain for your very words. It was time to sell this story. <<"Are you sure enough to bet your life on it? My life? The lives of your pride? It's a big gamble…">>

And the moment he saw the Humoganth flicker, he knew he had it. <>

<<"This drought sure is awful, ain’t it? This one’s fire is too weak to burn too good, but imagine what a full grown dragon could do to this dry, tired wood.”>> His tone dropped to a fang-dripping purr. <<“Imagine what a whole thunder could do. You might not burn, but your prey…”>> He chuckled darkly. <<"Are you ready to risk starving your entire people, for one measly, bony, little dragon? I gotta tell you, Crisp… I fear the dragons, and you should, too. They'd be more dangerous than the Voltcage.">>

The beast hissed. <> By now, it was pacing, tail whipping in agitation. <> True enough, it was very dangerous to say a fae's name aloud, and the fae eater’s in particular. Timothy swallowed hard, and had to resist the urge to look over his shoulder for an unwanted, super-powerful guest. But he couldn't look, if he wanted to keep the illusion of control going.

<<"Look, just think about it, okay? I'm lookin’ out for us both, here.">> Timothy swallowed hard. <<"Don't do this.">>

There was a long standoff, before the 'ganth lowered its head, growling low. <> The last part was added lamely, like it was trying to save face for its own fear. Another feeling Timothy knew well, and he felt a surge of pity… Before mentally scolding himself that giving in would only anger the beast.

<<"Go home, Crisp. Find something better to eat.">>

The beast hissed, but then stalked off, vanishing into smoke, and then into the trees. Timothy didn't dare heave a sigh yet. A minute passed, then another.

Timothy all but collapsed onto his staff, panting. Holy crap, that could have ended so, so bad! A low whine escaped his throat before he could stop it. Okay, Timothy, compose yourself. He pulled in a deep, shaky breath. You’re not, uh, out of the woods yet. He glanced up the tree at the small dragoness, who was still hiding.

And all that confidence just poured away like a pierced waterskin.