"Come in." There was an edge to his voice as he said it, but it was an invitation nonetheless. Cassian was at his desk, still pouring over papers, clearly looking swamped in all that had transpired in Nevermere during his time away. There were many moving parts now that they had more land and more citizens, and managing everything was a task and a half. He needed to hire more hands.

The king looked up eventually and would see who had entered.

Cassian’s gaze followed Regan’s movement right up to his desk. He knew why she was here. He had told her to come back. He still had every intention of making good on his offer, only the timing was bad.

Or maybe it was just right. Maybe stepping away from the maddening twister that was being king and shedding his skin for a coat and running under the night sky was exactly what he needed. This was his run with Alys, but she was gone. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized she had been gone for many years.

His eyes were fixed on the awkward woman before him. She was not beautiful like Alys, nor was she as professional and polished. She wasn’t Alys. She would never be. But she was something else. Something powerful and valuable in her own right.

A light lit in Cassian’s eye. He abandoned his quill and stood rather abruptly.

“Let’s go.” He said decidedly, moving to the door, diving into his pocket for his key.

The portkey did it’s duty, just as it always did, and when the king opened the door of his study the scene beyond was in the woods rather than in the castle corridor. He stepped through, not looking to see if Regan had followed, knowing she would. They were at the cabin again, the one that was stocked with various things the king might need, all hidden inside the dusty structure so that it appeared to be abandoned. In the past with Alys they had used a simple stump to store their clothing, but Cassian had stepped it up a knotch.

He looked down at Regan, deflated in comparison to her near bursting state, and said,

“Undress to ensure you have something to put back on.”

Cassian followed suit, removing his shirt first, followed by his shoes and then his pants. Unlike Regan, no blush came to his skin, and he didn't look to her. He didn't care to see her. His eyes had already fallen upon every private place that Regan possessed and there was nothing in him that longed to look again. She was a woman, quite simply, and he was a satisfied man.

The king led the way out of the cabin, his olive buttocks serving as Regan's guide. He tipped his face up towards the moon for a peaceful beat before he welcomed the change. With a groan he doubled over and his skin began to rip away, his hulking brown werewolf form bursting through. It hurt every time, but with time he found that the pain became more bearable. Especially when the fullness of his strength and freedom overwhelmed him upon being fully changed.

He turned his head to observe her, and if she looked ready to run then he would run.

He paced himself, listening for his company, ensuring she kept close to his heels. They wound through the forest, dodging trees by centimeters, throwing up leaves in the wake of their claws, breathing in the cool, fresh night's air and, in that moment, living for it. Living for the moment and nothing more. It was everything for Cassian. He was not a king, not a husband, not a father, not a brother; not anything. Just free. Just alive.

His path wound them up the side of a mountain and to a rocky precipice. Cassian charged to the head of it, his front claws catching the edge to keep his form from launching over. In this place he howled for the first time, a deep, guttural cry to the moon.

For the duration of his howl she was forgotten. Only when it ebbed, when his maw slowly closed, cutting off his sound, did he notice that she was at his side. His hulking head swiveled, brown eyes falling to rest on the naked little pup, observing her pathetic attempt to howl. Something moved in Cassian. A pity. A sympathy. A sense of...of something.

He lowered down towards her, entirely rapt by this little she wolf. She hound...thing.

After a moment of observation, he started to move, jerking his head to indicate that she follow, though it was unnecessary. He would descend the steepest part of the mountain until they reached more even land and then begin to sniff, attempting to find something to hunt.

Cassian was two steps behind her, only catching the scent after she had shown indication of finding one. He yipped in glee before taking off after the scent, his pace significantly slower in order to keep behind Regan and allow her to stop when she needed.