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What have you done with them? Don't lie to me and don't give me excuses. Just tell me.

[Aisling's voice is neither high-pitched, nor strident, but slightly deeper than usual and her words carry a sense of depth that very nearly echoes like an empty hall. There is no video accompaniment this time.]

Give them back! They were mine! Mine, do you understand! You have no right to do this!

[A hushed rustling sound grows behind her voice, like trees before the precursor winds of a storm, but the skies are clear and there's not much in the way of wind today.]

They had lives, they had friends, and you don't know what you've done - to them, to those you forced them to leave behind. You think you know.

[Her voice shakes, strained with grief, but rage is swiftly overtaking it. If you'd thought you'd heard her angry before, that was nothing in comparison.]

You think you understand everything, but you don't know anything! Give. Them. Back.

[The audio cuts off abruptly.]

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Oh, bloody hell--

[Guess who's heading into the forest against his better judgement? This guy right here.]

[An eerie silence hangs over the forest. Not even the insects rustle and chirp at each other. The air is heavy, dense with an ominous sense of foreboding. You should not be here. Will you persist in entering?]

[He certainly will persist.. though not without a small amount of trepidation.

Having no idea what he might find here, he can sense in the air that something isn't right. It's sending prickles up the back of his neck.]

[The only thing he will hear are the sounds he makes himself. The creatures have vanished, or hunkered down to wait out the storm. Once he is too deep to easily and quickly turn back, an eerie howl rises from an unseen throat only a few miles distant. Moments later, low curls of mist begin to appear between the trees flowing downslope. For once, however, it never gets above knee-height.

Soon enough, perhaps too soon, there's a flash of glowing green eyes in the mist, and a furious growl. It's clearly a warning. You should leave.]

[He should, but he doesn't. He stops dead, one hand resting gently against the trunk of a nearby tree as he stares resolutely into the fog.

England doesn't step forwards, but he doesn't turn back either. He waits, watching silently.]

[A long, lean shape, fluffed up to twice her usual size, stalks from the mist, never ceasing the low rumbling growl. Lips peel back from white fangs. Slowly, inexorably, she slinks closer. Is there actually anything remotely human in there at all anymore? The wolf slows to a stop only a few yards away and drops her head low, mouth gaping. Whether she means to be or not, she's barring the way deeper into the forest.]

[He's not foolish enough to try and push past her. Staying where he is he crouches down slowly, one hand still against the tree and the other braced carefully against the ground.]

Aisling. [His voice is level, unafraid.] This isn't the way.

[For a fleeting instant something like awareness flashes in her eyes, but then her head jerks up and it's gone. She snaps at the air, snarling, holding her ground. The mist beyond her eddies and swirls violently.]

[He still doesn't move, just holds one hand tentatively out towards her, palm up.]

Aisling... Please.

[Again, the name seems to get her attention. Her ruff lowers a little and her ears flick forward as she licks her nose. A soft, lost, sorrowful whine takes the place of the snarl. Backing away, she seems distracted, casting about as if searching for traces and finally bounds into the trees. A moment later she's back with her phone clamped in her teeth.

She shakes it, worrying at it, and if it had been a rabbit its neck would have been snapped long ago, but the PDA is a tough, water-proof variety and seems relatively impervious to being chewed on. With one last furious shake she flings it across the area, growling at it as it bounces to a stop against Arthur's tree.]

[He watches her, deciding it would be best not to move when she goes bounding off. When the phone comes to a bouncing stop by his feet he picks it up, shifting to sit and rest his back against the tree as he looks at the contraption.]

Hmm? What is it..?

[Huffing, she turns her back on him, stalking on stiff, restless legs to the other end of the clearing. If Arthur keys on the phone - it's not protected in any way - he'll find the largest icon in the most worn spot on the screen. "Call Captain", it says, with a picture of Jack Harkness' face above it, smiling that trademark blinding grin. The call history has a long string of rejected calls to the captain from the last several hours. None of them went through.

Aisling ignores him and smells all about before raising her nose and throwing a "report" sequence to the uncaring skies. The pack answers shakily from nearby, uncertain, but the call is not for them. A bone-deep shudder runs through her and all the fight seems to drain away. Slowly sitting down, she hangs her head and utters a low, painful moan that really shouldn't be able to come from a wolf's throat.]

[He does, looking down at the words on the screen. A quiet sigh leaves him, a small shake of his head as he finally understands.]

I'm sorry, Aisling.

[Arthur lowers the phone, daring to scoot himself a bit closer to the wolf.] But you know this isn't the way...

[Koizumi has been active today, but he's just going through the motions. He's not really paying attention to anything he's doing - cleaning, going to school, running errands, he does it all on autopilot.

Aisling's voice changes all of that, draws him back hard to himself. It's not that it's Aisling, per se - it's the pain in her voice. He hears it and instantly feels a knife in his heart - even though it takes his mind a few moments to work out why. He recognizes that pain.

Walking home from the Juanes, Koizumi takes a shuddering breath, then drops his grocery bags on the street, their contents no longer relevant. He turns the other way and begins heading into the forest, heedless of everyone and everything, his eyes seeking only one.]

[The forest is dead silent, not even a frog or a cricket making a sound. No breeze rustles the leaves, and the air hangs heavy with foreboding. Someone, or something doesn't want people here.

The deeper one goes, the denser the air and the closer the forest seems to become. The light dims as the branches knit themselves together overhead, and the scent of wet earth and decay rises from the roots of the forest giants. Mist begins to creep between the trees, sticking low to the ground.

Further ahead a terrible growl rolls from beneath a bright flash of green eyes in the fog before they vanish - a warning to go no further. Turn back, little one, the guardian has no patience for mortals today.]

[Koizumi quietly, inexorably makes his way inward, ignoring everything but the sound of that terrible pain. He follows the growls and the signs of her passing, not hurrying but not stopping for anything either.]

[Finally the wolf he's been looking for charges from the shadows with a snarl. With her head down and her hackles raised, she looks half-again as large and solid as usual. She moves so quickly that he's likely to mostly get an impression of size and fury headed straight for him before she twists and comes up short, an impressive set of teeth snapping shut on empty air only a foot or so in front of his face. The message is unmistakable.]

[Koizumi doesn't even flinch from the charge of the enormous wolf, doesn't react to it in any way - there is no fear in his gaze, only pain and sorrow. He continues to step towards her, reaching out with one hand.]

[That doesn't appear to be reassuring. If anything, it makes her fluff up larger and she leaps back away from him. Claws gouge chunks from the turf at her quick turns. These are nothing like the playful bows of a puppy, but are the aggressive, tactical slinking scuffles of a hunter working itself up to attacking an ambitious prey.

Dodging in, she makes a dash as though to trip him up, but changes direction at the last moment, her tail lashing hard against his leg. Again she crouches a few yards ahead of him, barring his path and growling.]

[Koizumi doesn't pause or turn aside. Aisling may not be playing, but Koizumi either doesn't believe she'll hurt him - or, possible more likely, he doesn't care if she does. All he knows is that she is hurting, and that he is going to be there to comfort her. Right now, that's the only thing that matters.]

[Fortunately for him, he's right. Somewhere under there, she doesn't actually want to hurt him, and that conviction restrains the wolf. But only just.

Dancing back from him, she circles sideways out of his reach with a snarl. She doesn't want to leave the clearing. They're too close to the den, and that is the last place she wants mortals right now. Even him.

Lunging forward, her teeth snap closed on his sleeve, somehow missing the arm, and she sets herself to tug him back toward the city.]

[His sorrow only deepens when her teeth snap around his sleeve. His other arm finally reaches her fur, crawling slowly around her neck as he falls to his knees in front of her. There, he's grounded enough that her tug only brings him closer to her, not moving him.

His face is now on level with hers, only inches away, and he holds her gaze - expression holding only pain and sorrow and understanding.]

[For the first time, her growl falters, something flickering in the depths of those mad, green eyes. Furry ears twitch uncertainly.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, the wolf's jaws ease. Release his sleeve. Her pink tongue licks nervously over her muzzle. Ears rise. Flick flat. Swivel back toward him, then back to hover half-down. Awareness returns and it's Aisling looking out of the wolf's eyes again, grief overwhelming everything in its path.

Warm and wet, she curls her tongue in brief apology over his wrist and settles slowly to sit in front of him. Her gaze drops and her nose follows. A moment later the softest whine escapes her as a bone deep shudder runs through her frame. Canines cannot cry, but she would if she could.]

[Awareness returns slowly to her eyes, and seeing her like this is almost worse. Worse for him, though - there's no question the other was worse for her, and she's all that matters now. He waits for her to release his sleeve, then wraps his other arm around her too, fingers slowly tightening around a clump of fur on her neck - not gentle, but comforting, ever that.

After a time, he closes his eyes and bows his head, touching his brow to hers, his arms more fully encircling her neck. He remains like that, on his knees in front of the wolf, slumped softly against her, head bowed to hers in tender compassion and sorrow. He makes no sound, but before long she will start to feel hot tears against her fur - canines cannot cry, so he will cry for both of them, holding tightly to the wolf.]

[Fine tremors set her shivering with the force of her grief. Shifting, she lays her chin on his shoulder, tilting her head against his and leaning into him. She holds that pose for a long time.

At some point, however, she lifts her head and stands, nosing his ear with a soft huff. She ducks out from the circle of his arms, tugging lightly in an effort to disengage.]

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