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True Blue (C) Tsumi Moogle '12 Characters (C) Themselves.

Shafts of pale silver light flecked the silent forest. Illuminating little of the tight-knit woodlands that the hunter knew well. The paths, well hidden to all but his people, unremarkable. Yet he moved unimpeded, with his eyes passing among gaps in the gnarled, ancient trees. A cool breeze ruffled the canopy overhead with a gentle ebbing sigh. Much like the ocean some of the adventurers he had played tour-guide for described. A sight he one day hoped to see.

Underfoot the cool mulch of fallen leaves crunched almost mutely. A sound he would normally worry of anything in the forest hearing, but with his pompom glowing unconcernedly in the cool-night air, he paid it no attention. His eyes narrowed a moment to the movement of shadow just beyond a small ridge of trees, and for a moment he tensed, until the hulking shaggy form of a sizable wolf loped out. Yellow eyes meeting his blue, the young Moogle smiled and padded over to bury his hands among the wolf's thick neck-ruff, scritching warmly in welcome.

'<I take it you found nothing, Poki-po?>' He asked warmly in his native-tongue, answered with a non-commital tilt and jerk of the wolf's head. Mute, language-wise, but saying all he needed to. '<Good to hear. We can head back soon then.>' Turning to continue along the tracks, Ruhi padded alongside the wolf, who stood rather sized like a large horse to the short moogle, scritching along his side and enjoying the low rumble beneath his fingers.

Together, though, Moogle and wolf both pricked their ears to the sound of motion. Of cloth. Looking about cautiously, Ruhi pressed a hand to Poki's side gently to silence the low growl the wolf was starting to emit. With another thick fluttering of cloth, the Moogle's attention was drawn to the canopy as a dark figure leapt. And landed with a suprisingly faint thud before the duo. Squinting his eyes as he backed up with Poki's large form, the short ashen mog gripped his staff firmly.

'Are you.. lost, stranger, kupo?' The shorter form asked with an uncertain grasp of the common tongue as the figure stood slowly, eyes gleaming in the gloom. The sound of a thick boot-step drew the figure closer, matching the hunter and his companion's retreating steps in silence. 'Do you need a guide?' Ruhi tried again, ears twitching cautiously until the figure stepped under one of the thin, dancing shafts of moonlight. Blue. Leather pauldrons curled over thick shoulders, clasped to a billowing cloak of lapis, and a face hidden beneath a pointed, three-tipped chapeau, notched for a pair of dark ears to peer through.

At once, Ruhi's figure relaxed some, though he still looked wary. 'Gerig, kupo.' Ruhi muttered, earning a quick side-long glance from Poki, as he stopped retreating. 'Oh? Finally recognised me, Mini-mog?' Growled the tall figure as he eased a hand up to draw the red-banded chapeau from his head. Beneath lay a tangle of dark hair to match his ebon fur, broken by blue paint over his eyes and cheeks. And his broad, pearlescent smile. 'I didn't spook you, I hope?'

'I nearly sicked Poki on you, kupo. ..What are you here for? You know the way through the forest.'

'That I do. But I came to see how you were. I've been keeping an eye on your hunters, waiting for you to appear. I knew you would eventually.'

A shudder ran down Ruhi's spine. None of the hunters had mentioned the wolf at all. They hadn't even sensed him. His pompom hadn't even managed it.. 'For me, kupo? What all for?' The mog asked skeptically, giving a gentle tap to the quadrapedal wolf's side. At the signal, Poki eyed the mog, and the Varg standing opposite him, before turning to slink into the woods, to make for the village.

'What else for? To see how far you've come. There's much in this forest to learn from. And I know you're a watchful thing.'

'A fight, kupo?'

'A spar.' Corrected Gerig with a broader smirk. 'No weapons. No armor. Just you and me. A nice, friendly test of skill comparison.' Even without an answer, Gerig began removing his armor. Unbuckling, opening easily to reveal the thick muscles beneath, shining faintly under the moonlight. Ruhi could tell without asking, 'No' was not an available option. His eyes drifted for a moment after Poki's retreating form, a small part of him considering the option of chasing after him.. Though he shuddered to the thought of leading Gerig to the village.

A sharp snap of the Varg's fingers drew his attention back to the male standing two-heads over him at least. Gerig's broad form stood in just a pair of dark pants. His armor laid on the ground, with a thick-bladed sword draped over his boots harmlessly. 'No weapons, short-stuff.' He reminded with a smirk. Tsking softly, Ruhi let the thick oaken staff drop to the ground beside him, before his pompom glowed yellow. Gerig's form stepped back from the light, and like a shadow, he vanished.

The night returned to silence, as the sound of Gerig's cloak was no longer available to track him by. Ruhi flicked his tail, darting from the moonlight as well to press against a tree. Ears pricked alertly for the faintest sounds of the wolf. The still air granted him no chance of smelling the predator as he moved silently through the trees. Whereas his traitorously glowing pom illuminated the crown of his head, like a beacon, a target...

The sound of a gutteral growl behind him made the moogle whip around, staring into the pair of gleaming yellow eyes of Gerig's form gripping to the body of the tree he'd been hidden by. The wolf's jaws opened with a ripple of air which crackled, sparked, and spewed forth a great jet of flame. His pompom's red-hue was unnecessary. He'd seen that attack before. Ducking, rolling aside of the searing heat, only to leap towards the wolf, Ruhi made to grapple the wolf from his vantage point. Gripping tight into the dark fur with one hand and drawing the other back with his fingertips glowing red, he readied to sap the wolf's strength, only to gasp as Gerig smirked, launching himself back from the tree, to slam atop the smaller male, compressing him into the ground.

Were it not for the softness of the un-packed earth, Ruhi could well have been in a great deal of pain. Instead he was left dazed, his spell disrupted and muzzle mashed into the musky fur of his unofficial 'rival''s back. Chuckling, Gerig rolled aside, and darted from sight once more, making the Mog groan as he got up, shaking slightly and dusting himself off quickly. Looking about wildly, the hunter mog panted, eyes narrowed. Like any wolf, Gerig would look for a weak-spot. A moment of opportunity. A vantage point. His eyes moved quickly, determining the trees. And whipping about, his blue eyes seared red. Much like the staring eyes of the funguar that dwelled amidst the swamplands of the southern forest, they narrowed with a light burning within them as he focused on the moving shadow he knew to be his rival. With a flare of his eyes, the light flared forth in a searing beam that impacted, and cratered the side of the tree as Gerig's large form launched itself from the tree and over Ruhi's head.

Quick to follow, the Mog's eyes narrowed again to ready the attack, chasing the wolf from several trees, before the Varg lunged towards the ground at his feet. Eyes narrowed again, Ruhi prepared to send the wolf reeling with another blast, before the Varg's fingers clenched into the dirt, and his body rippled. The air filled immediately with agonizing soundwaves that rocked and quaked through the Moogle's form, making him stagger back with his hands lifted to grasp his ears, yelping in pain for the screeeching, distorting sound making his head ring.

As the sound died down, Ruhi gasped, opening his eyes, blue once more to look at the grinning Varg. His Rival inclining his head, before his thick haunches creaked, his back hunched, and he leapt like no Varg should be able. For a moment, Ruhi's eyes stared. He knew those motions. He'd seen them before. But Unable in the heat of battle to think of where, he was distracted long enough for the wolf to come crashing down on him once more. It was not, perhaps, an attack such as it would be if he were fighting for real, Ruhi realized as he lay beneath the wolf, panting and wincing somewhat. But it still certainly hurt, being slammed into the ground for the second time that night.

With Gerig's hands holding his wrists over his head, and the Varg's hunched legs keeping his own pinned to the floor, the little mog panted, ears laid as he stared. He could still attack, certainly. But so could his opponent. And given Gerig's position, he had a much better position for it.

'Nph.. I yield, kupo..' Murmured the grey mog, pouting gently.

'Smart move, mini-mog.' growled the wolf with a satisfied smirk. Leaning down to slowly trail his tongue along the smaller form's cheek with a satisfied rumble, leaving the mog shuddering hesitantly. 'But I'm not quite done yet. ..There was one last new trick I wanted to show you before I let you be for the night.'

'Mmph.. But the fight's over, kupo..'

'From your perspective, maybe.' growled the wolf, smirking as he continued trailing his thick, slimey tongue along the moogle's throat, chin and cheek. 'This last trick though, is almost always used at this point in a fight, though. So I felt it sort of fitting. ...Particularly where I learnt it from.'

Ruhi's form shuddered all the harder, his cheeks burning as he squirmed against the wolf's firm grasp. 'Where you.. learnt it from, kupo?'

'Mmhm..' Growled the Varg over his ears, chuckling. 'Most people just call it the Moogle-eater. I think you've heard of it?'

Ruhi's eyes widened, his pupils shrinking with fear at the name. Even in the common tongue's less impactive, but direct name it made his innards clench. His arms were slowly tugged down to his sides by the much stronger male, making him struggle a little with a whimper.

'I call this new trick 'Swallow''. Gerig grinned, his jaws oozing thick rivulets of saliva over the moogle's face before the great maw parted. The sight of fang-framed flesh beyond making the grey-moogle whimper. It couldn't possibly be true. There was no way Gerig could have learned- *Squish* His train of thought was silenced as the great hands holding him lurched him upwards and mashed his face into the wolf's jaws. The thick, sloppy tongue mooshed beneath his chin whilst his face broke several strands of saliva.

Stiffling heat bellowed about his ears as the Varg groaned over him. Apparently still new to the application of the technique, but enjoying it immensely, Gerig's hands pushed insistantly against his jaws slow, downward descent. Flesh unfolded easily, almost welcomingly about the young Moogle's head much akin, indeed as the great beast he'd witnessed devouring some poor traveller. The aching stretch of the moogle working his squirmy way inward was exquisite, with every struggle of his rival turned temporary meal making him stir and growl. His clawed fingertips grasped at the Mog's sides some as some curious instinct overtook him. Primal, needy, instilled by the spell he used to manage the feat, his stomach growled louder than him as he took his first great, rippling swallow.

Within, Ruhi's terrified cries were lost to the waves of rolling muscle compacting and dragging him inwards. Muted to the forest save his attempted thrashing beneath Gerig's large form. He lost several inches every time his eager opponent swallowed, torso rapidly vanishing beyond the undulating tongue he was squeezing over. Unwilling to open his eyes, he could only lamely shake and jerk his head about as the Varg steadily repositioned himself to tug away the leather loin-cloth keeping him decent. The moogle bared for the forest entirely as he was devoured. Hefted by those broad paws and illuminated beneath the moon peeking through the leaves as Gerig turned his head towards the sky.

Fangs brushed and faintly scraped as gravity continued dragging him down. Beyond his stomach and hips, his pinned legs were fed like noodles to the avidly lunging, chomping motions of the rather more experienced blue mage. The body about him, meanwhile, undulated unendingly. Muscle grinding and squishing, compacting and churning, tossing and roiling. Through a tight sphinctre and into a looser space, he found himself curling, whimpering for the searing heat of the varg soaking into his aching form.

Gerig panted thickly, as his hands left the Moogle's trailing legs. Feeling over his bulging neck and further beyond to his distending stomach, he groaned thickly about his meal as each delightful swallow dragged the little mog faster, and further from view. Knees squirming, calves kicking, feet pivoting.. and finally, his jaws closed. His tongue washed over the soles of the little mog's feet, slathering, grinding them over, before a luxuriously slow swallow finished the deed and sent the little hunter slithering into the depths of his gut, traced to the top of his rib-cage by Gerig's clawed fingers.

Opening his eyes steadily, the Varg leant back, smirking as he regarded his stomach. It was a shock to see it so large.. so animated. True the Moogle-eater was a monstrous beast, that could fit people unseen inside itself.. ..But some small part of him rather enjoyed the sight of his long term 'rival' as it were, struggling away beneath his dark pelt.

'Nnnhh.. Having never actually experienced this myself, Mini-mog.. I'm not sure what awaits you now.' Grinned the Varg, panting some as he looked the hunter's loin-cloth over. Tugging it up, he wiped his muzzle, and discarded the cloth carelessly beside himself. Reclined on a hand, he kneaded over the bulge of the moogle within him, struggling with faint, feeble pleas. Amusement etched on his face as he considered the tiny form. 'Well then.. Now that our game is good and done.. I suppose I should get going. ..Don't want to remain in this forest too long. All sorts of nasty things out there, hmm?' Smirked the wolf, rumbling as the movements within his belly grew frantically animated.

Easing to his feet a little uncoordinatedly, Gerig returned to his gear and steadily began donning it again, smirking as he eased his chest-plate on with a slight aching amount of difficulty. Clipping it loosely over his chest, he regarded the lone flap of light mail that hung over the still struggling bulges of his gut. He could certainly get used to those.. Tugging his hat on last of all, he looked back to the sound of several pairs of little paws and grinned as he darted on through the trees.