Wolves & Worship (Florian/Toothy narrative)

(AKA Two idiots cannot say 'I love you' like normal people, resort to drawing on each other in the woods.)

CW: Mature themes (mentioned), minor blood sacrifice

---

It's late afternoon when Toothy next arrives in New Hillborrow, the sun already well making its descent towards the horizon. There's a slow casualness to him as he walks up to where in the woods Florian is hanging out today, Gigi on his shoulder from where he scooped her up earlier.

"Right where you said he'd be, thanks again Gigi." He gives her head a well deserved scritch before turning to Florian with a goofy grin. "Hello, it's your personal thank you service again. This time I really gotta say I loved the acorn."

Florian looks up from where he's sat cross-legged on the forest floor, covered in a large family of mice. He gives Toothy an equally goofy smile in return and points to a particularly small mouse on his right shoulder.

"Debbie found it! It was totally cool, right?"

Debbie the mouse squeaks and hides in one of the many folds of Florian's multi-layer cloak.

"Come sit," Florian says, patting the mossy ground next to him.

"Debbie has a keen eye for sure." Toothy very carefully sits down, minding out for any mice, placing himself close enough to be a large piece of warmth right against Florian's side.

"Up to anything out here tonight? Apart from getting acorn hunting tips of course."

“Well, I’ve been given a hot lead.”

Florian nudges Toothy’s arm up, slinks underneath it, presses in close and lifts another mouse up on the flat of his palm for them both to behold. This one is outrageously round, with large ears.

“David says there’s a pack of wolves that’ve come up to these parts. I was thinking of going to see them and letting them know where the people are and stuff. Maybe wildshaping and running around with them a little. Maybe I saved a polymorph in case this really cute drow boy came by. But nothing set in stone.”

He turns his head to press a quick peck on Toothy’s cheek.

“Why? Did you have something in mind?”

There's a contemplative noise from Toothy as he rests his head on Florian's.
"You truly do have the best ideas, of course giving credit to David for the intel. I'm just a lucky cute drow boy it seems."

He reluctantly shifts away from Florian slightly to untie a pouch from his belt.

"And it's less a well formed idea like yours, and more a thing? I got some really cool paint from a friend, and I knew that a certain someone might also like it."

There’s a noise of protest as Toothy moves away that quickly turns into one of interest when he mentions the paints.

“Oooh. Dope. What do they do?”

Two mice leave Florian to scurry over onto Toothy’s shoulder and join Gigi in peering at the pouch.

“…and more importantly, where do they go?”

The mice and Gigi see a small clay pot sealed up in the pouch, the sides already stained with a blue/green colour that glows slightly in the dimmed light.

"Well it's bioluminonesc... It's glow paint. I've used a little already but it really glows when it's dark!"

He takes the paint pot out so Florian can now see it too, now with a confused look.

"But what do you mean, where do they go? It's paint, so I guess it can go anywhere really. Where would you like them to go?"

He tilts his head, still in slight confusion, but there's a hint of a cheeky smile there too. Florian rolls his eyes a little bit but his grin widens and he sinks a hand into Toothy’s messy hair, tugging gently.

“Alright, you can just ask, you know.”

He takes the pouch from Toothy’s hand and looks at it for a moment with the facial expression Toothy knows very well to be Florian mentally going through his catalogue of gods. When he comes back to himself he looks Toothy over appraisingly, clearly already seeing lines and symbols spreading across his skin.

“Yeah, that’ll work,” he mumbles. “Selune. Mielikki. Silvanus and Shar. Mystra.” He tugs gently on Toothy’s hair with each god he names.“Obad-Hai.”

He’s smiling now, leaning in to whisper against Toothy’s neck.

“Malar. And Balinor. We can entreat them before we speak to the newcomers. If they see fit, we can run with wolves tonight and they’ll bless our hunt with them.”

Toothy, his mind locked on target, continues unperturbed.

"Yeah but it's more fun this way, I like making you blush when I can."

"Careful, or I'll bless you with murder. And not the sexy kind. I've done it before, I can do it again."

Four mice (including David) decide it's time to vacate their various folds and pockets on Florian's person. Even as he's clambering up to sit fully in Toothy's lap he says,

"It’s getting dark. We should get going soon if we want to find the pack before midnight."

Toothy leans back to give Florian more space to move into his space, tilting his head into where Florian's hand is curled in his hair.

"Okay, sexy murder? Now I'm kinda intrigued, but I think that might be a chat for another time."

He thumbs at Florian's jaw before adding, "And I don't want to sour or slow any blessings. Though if you want me to take my top off, you could just ask."

And with a wink he proceeds to do just that, first trying with the buttons, before getting impatient and pulling the whole thing over his head. The rest of the mice flee as Florian helps Toothy wriggle out of the garment.

He pauses briefly to survey his canvas and the firmly says,
"Well, we can't forget about Sune." He sets the paints aside on the mossy ground.
"Can't pay her homage with paints. It's a more practical approach."

He puts a hand on Toothy's chest, palm against his sternum, feeling his heartbeat steadily for a second before pushing him firmly back down against the moss.

"It's about appreciating the beauty in the world, and enjoying it."

At these words Toothy's expression changes from that goofy grin from earlier in the evening to something more content. The smile of someone inexplicably happy.
And then neither of them speak, for a long while.

---

They set out later than they should have, probably, but they’ve given Sune her fair dues so it’s worth it.They walk quietly, hands laced together into the twilight. As night falls, Florian considers lighting a torch but in the end he lets Toothy and Gigi guide him safely through the dark forest. They reach a small clearing where the gap in the trees let the moonlight spill through and paint the moss silver. Gigi - now a large, grey barn owl - glides silently overhead and spots the pack of wolves a couple of miles away.

“Yeah, this is perfect.”

Florian squeezes Toothy’s hand before letting it go. He kneels in the pine needles and moss, piling wood to make a small fire. His fingers spark and glow, and when he looks up at Toothy over the flames his eyes are glittering with something primal and holy. Toothy is focused solely on his boyfriend in front of him as he says, "Definitely perfect."

Florian sets out his usual pots of paint, as well as the latest addition of the glow paints and two empty bowls. He pulls out a dagger and holds it in the flames for a moment before making a careful cut on the back of his hand, letting the blood drip into one of the empty bowls. Then he pulls some dried moss and a clean strip of linen from one of his many pouches and wraps the cut with a practised hand. The second bowl he fills with soil from the mossy ground and ash from the fire. He mixes it with water to make a paste, and then lines all the bowls and pots up neatly, turning his attention back to Toothy. He starts to speak but then gets distracted, clearly completely derailed by a thought or a feeling as it viably slams into him as he locks eyes with the man kneeling next to him. He reaches up and tangles a hand into Toothy’s hair again, tugging a little.

“It means a lot,” he says. “I dunno if I’ve ever said that. But it means more than I can, like, say or express, to have someone who wants to share this with me? Not everyone I’ve met thinks this is like, normal or whatever. Not how you worship gods. Or even the right gods to worship. I’m- it means a lot. You mean a lot. To me.”

Toothy leans into the hair tug, so their heads are a little bit more level.

"Of course. From the very beginning I've liked the way you do this. All the gods are around, no matter how much some people ignore them. Nothing good comes from trying to be other people's 'normal' anyway. And it always makes me so happy to be here, here with you. I.. you mean so much to me too."

He then leans in closer to give Florian a lingering kiss. Florian closes his - suspiciously shiny - eyes and stays in the kiss until his heart stops hammering. He’s tempted to stay a little bit longer but Sune already had her fill and it’s time to acknowledge the other gods who walk among them. He breaks the kiss, rubs a gentle thumb over Toothy’s cheekbone, wholly out of words. Instead he turns to his paints and brushes, picking one at random and getting to work.

He covers Toothy’s entire back in a large oak tree in honour of Silvanus and Obad-Hai, its roots at the small of his back and its mighty branches stretching across his shoulders in dark green and the muted brown of the paste of soil. He traces Toothy’s veins on the inside of his arms like always, this time in a likeness of Balinors antlers. On each of his palms, Florian paints a dark, solid circle and outlines it with the glow paint, in honour of Shar.

With the blood, he paints the large clawed bear paw of Malar over Toothy’s heart. He’s done this before, many times, and Toothy sees his lips move silently in a familiar prayer - he always calls upon Malar when it comes to Toothy. He asks for skilled violence, for sharp senses, for a blessed hunt, for the strength of the wild to flow through his veins. He litters Toothy’s chest and neck with primordial runes, summoning the spirits of the wild and the elements. Finally, he crowns toothy in the numerous stars of Selûne and Mystra, the glow paint shining brightly on his forehead and temples.

Toothy beams under Florian's attention, still always curious to his methods and to which symbols will appear this time. He loves hearing each thought and meaning that goes behind the lines painted with his practised hands. The now heavily painted drow takes his own moment to admire the artwork he has been made into as he's circled by Florian, clearly adoring the results. Florian gives his work a final once-over before he nods and hands the bowls of blood and paste to Toothy. He takes a breath to steel himself, his smile both nervous and happy, and starts shedding his own layers to reveal the bare skin of his torso.

“Now me,” he says, and Toothy knows the significance of what he’s doing, of what he’s showing him.

Florian is a twig of a boy next to toothy, his skin is a mess of sacred runes and tattoos, of the marks of his circle. They flow across his arms and up his neck, and weave around the twin horizontal scars across his chest.

“I still don’t know how she did it,” he says, mildly bewildered at the mere thought. “Abuela built that ritual with twigs and spit and the help of the gods and somehow, I got a body that fit me. That didn’t hurt to look at, that didn’t hurt when others looked at it.”

When Florian hands him the paint pots and starts taking off his own shirt, there's an awed stillness to Toothy as the realisation of this moment hits. The stillness turns into a warm smile as he takes in the wonderful man before him. If he doesn't hold Florian right now he thinks he might implode, so he draws him closer with an arm around his waist, slowly resting their foreheads together.

"I think we both know that I have no clue how she did it either, but it suits you so very well. I'm glad to hear it doesn't hurt you anymore, that you're happy."

He brings his head back a little bit, so that he can look Florian in the eyes.

"But also, are you sure we can't acknowledge Sune just a bit more?"

Florian's wide, almost delirious smile shrinks to something with a bit more heat in it.

"Oh, don't you worry, Sune's gonna be so fucking acknowledged. Just you wait. But first..."

He grabs Toothy's free hand - he likes the other one spread wide across his spine just fine where it's at, thank you - and takes the bowl of blood from him. He carefully pours what's left over the tips of Toothy's fingers before guiding his hand to Florian's own sternum.

"Here."

Toothy let's his fingers linger there for a moment, considering, as he feels the heat of skin against skin. "I don't know the gods like you do, but I can do something of my own? Or of course you could guide me-”

But Florian shakes his head almost immediately.
"You pick."

He nods his head minutely, Toothy already staring at Florian's sternum with a determined intensity. And then his idle fingers finally move. He starts with the blood pigment offered to him, painting fire about the size of a heart. Not something angry, but providing rings of light and a comforting warmth, sparks of the glow paint fly off it to hint at that energy and joy it contains. Underneath it, lower on Florian's chest and on his abdomen, he moves onto the brown, ash and green pigments. Here he adds a menagerie of animals in a blur of motion, dancing and jumping in the light of the fire. Between the forms a single line, a thread, seems to connect them all together no matter how different they are.

Any part of the design that overlaps with the scars and tattoos on Florian's skin he doesn't cover, doesn't hide, but incorporates it into the form and flow of what he's painting.
He adds little glow stars between the lines of the tattoos on his arms, lights in the dark of the night, reaching a crescendo at his wrists. Lastly he then takes each of Florian's hands and places them together palm side up, smearing the last of the blood red paint across them. Once it's dried down he layers on top the stylised outline of a heart, that's only whole when his hands are together. It looks like he's caught one right in the palm of his hands.

Toothy leans back again with a deep breath, checking his work in anticipation of Florian's reaction.

"There, I think...I think I did okay."

Florian looks at the heart in his hands, his hands cupped carefully like he’s cradling a physical thing, his face gently illuminated from the glow of the paint. His eyes are shiny again, glittering in the firelight. He tries to say something but doesn’t know what so he just nods. “Yeah. Real good,” he whispers after a long moment.

“Me too,” he adds, still looking at the heart.

He presses his forehead to Toothy’s again, breathing slowly, letting his own heart thunder wildly behind his rib cage and revelling in the feeling of Toothy’s hand on his bare back. The night around them is cold and clear, and Florian should be freezing without his many layers but he feels nothing but heat and safety with Toothy’s arms around him. They stay like that for an eternity, letting Selûne, Silvanus and Mystra watch over them silently.

Eventually, there is a rustle from one of the trees on the edge of the clearing and a soft hoot from Gigi. Florian leans back to look at Toothy with anticipation.

“The pack is here. They found us.”

Toothy barely releases Florian from where he's holding him close, the space where the anxiousness from his silent proclamation had finally dissipated. But at that announcement he grins so wide with excitement, teeth on full display.

"Well I guess we should go give them a warm welcome then."

He straightens up to his full height, bringing Florian with him, still reluctant to fully let go just yet. Florian takes a moment to swoon and reconsider Toothy’s earlier point about Sune. Maybe the wolves can just chill until tomorrow? Maybe Toothy can just pick him up and carry him someplace soft? His hand has crept into the soft hair at the nape of Toothy’s neck without Florian even noticing. Toothy’s grinning at him with those sharp teeth like he knows exactly what Florian’s thinking. Maybe-

Another, more pointed, hoot from the trees breaks the silence and Florian remembers what they’re here for.

“Wolves. Now. Sune. Later.”
He sounds like he’s trying to convince both of them.

Without looking away from Toothy, he holds a hand out to the fire, slowly closing it into a fist. The fire dies down, reduced to glowing embers, and he brings the hand up to his face. In a shower of sparks he casts Darkvision on himself and blinks a little as his eyes adjust to the now bright surroundings. At the edge of the clearing, a twig snaps as it’s stepped on. Between the sparks flying and the twig snapping, Toothy finally has his attention divert from Florian to their surroundings.

"Right. Wolves. Uh huh."

Carefully putting Florian down on his own two feet, he looks to the source of the sound, checking it really is the expected visitors. Unconsciously he puts on a relaxed stance, not wanting to send out the wrong signals to any new fur friends.

Just on the edge of the treeline, eyes reflecting in the last remaining flickers of the campfire's embers, the pack of wolves slowly appear. Two of them pull away from the group, one's coat dark grey and the other a creamy white, fluffy ears swivelling round in surveillance as their paws cautiously pad into the clearing. Toothy flashes a grin at Florian with barely contained excitement before he slowly and calmly lowers to a crouch, making himself as non threatening as possible as he maintains eye contact with the wolves. He lets the two of them approach, welcomes the curious sniffs and snoot boops against his shoulders and face.

When he feels they're comfortable enough, Toothy lifts a hand to gently pat at the side of the creamy white one, and seeing no upset at this he turns the pat into a scratch, which then turns into a chin scritch. This earns a pleased grumble from the wolf and a snoot boop from the other one who seems to want in. And at this point Toothy knows he's got it, he can start making that spiritual connection with the animals around him through the magic of a good pat.
Crouched there with the magic of Speak with Animals flourishing under hands on fur, and quiet laughter on his lips, he gives Florian a look of content happiness so strong it could probably melt stone. Toothy's going to be wondering how he's got so lucky in life for weeks now. He speaks quietly so as to not startle.

"These seem a friendly lot, that's a real good sign. And look, the others want in too."

He nods to the treeline where more wolf snoots have poked further into the clearing curiously. Florian - having stood there looking equally floored by happiness - turns to look at the other newcomers. He drops into a similarly easy crouch, reaching a hand out in their direction.

"Hey gang, nice to meet you. We just wanna hang and to like, give you a heads up on where the people are. We cool?"

It's the magic of his circle that he cherishes the most; being able to speak to and understand creatures of the wild. It's a gift he will never take for granted.

They pad forward, one cautious still but two of the younger ones eagerly. He gets sniffed curiously and smiles widely at the small huffs and whines asking 'Friend?' and 'Food?'
The more cautious one, clearly one of the older wolves, stands still, looking at the rest of her pack as they climb all over Toothy and try to get at the pouches on Florian's belt. Eventually she sits down, content that the people don't mean any harm. There's plenty of cooing and happy chuckles from the cuddle pile Toothy's formed. The magic thrums faintly under his hands buried in wolf fur, and after a few more minutes a feeling of understanding washes over Toothy.

"Oh yeah we're definitely friends, bud."

Florian looks at him for a moment with the same smile that Toothy wore earlier, one of utter contentment and ridiculous happiness, but before long his attention is drawn to the small huff from the older wolf.

'People? Where?'

He turns back to her, reminding himself of the task at hand once more. Wolves now, Sune later.

"There's a place where they live not far from here. There'll be a lot of them in a couple days, a big gathering. I guess it's kinda far for people but closer if you run like one of you. We could show you where."

She cocks her head and huffs again.

'Wolves are fast. You are People. Slow. Won't keep up.'

Florian bares a grin full of teeth, glancing over to share a short, rather wild look with Toothy.

"We can become like you. We'd love to run with you if you'll have us."

There's some very excited nodding from Toothy underneath the cuddle pile of wolves.
Florian looks back at the wolf. The two lock eyes and a long moment passes before she finally turns away to let out a single bark at the rest of her pack, a firm 'Go'. As some way of helping Toothy starts to push snoots away from him, something which gets him annoyed huffs. But one does not simply disobey the words of who's in charge, and Toothy tells them as much.

"No really, if I don't listen to my dad enough times, sharp things start flying. Not to hurt, his aim's too good for that. But still.”

Once freed from the surrounding wolf pack Toothy stands to his full height and pads over to Florian's side, lacing their hands together and giving his a little squeeze. He can barely stand still with the excitement, but Florian anchors him.

"Does that mean it's time?"

Florian grins at him with equal anticipation, but it's like the slow heat of red coals instead of a roaring fire. He drags Toothy down for a single, biting kiss and then drags his fingers down his spine, heedless of the paint, pressing against every single vertebrae until he reaches Toothy's lower back. Then he releases the spell and steps back.

In a shower of sparks, Toothy transforms into a silver-white Direwolf - a large one. His teeth are like daggers, his eyes like pools of black and his paws and claws surely made in Malar's image. He's beautiful.

The younger wolves startle at the transformation for a moment but the massive Wolf smells the same as the large People he was before and soon they're chasing each other around the clearing again.
Florian laughs as he quickly gathers up the paints and their clothes, making sure it's all packed up neatly on his person so he can wildshape without losing anything.

The leader of the pack gets to her feet, looking at him. 'You?'
Gigi hoots softly from her perch in the trees.

"Race you," Florian says, and lets himself change.