Private Tales An Answer After Dark

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Illyria

Illyria

evershifting
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The days that the full treetops rustle from the gusting winds were the days she cherished the most. Most preferred the ocean, the sounds of a bustling market or the tranquility of a garden. Nothing spoke of home than the leaves dancing in the wind. If she barely felt the caress of air, at least the leaves got some movement. Opening her eyes to gaze to the hidden heavens, her thoughts emptied enough to admire the sunlight filtering weakly, blinding her for a mere moment before being suppressed with the foliage she saw before sleep took her and the sight of a new day awakening. These woods were her comfort, the solace she sought when civilization rose to a choking point. Her favourite time of day was witnessing the sun retire; rays fading in luminescence as eventide took over and a chill would finally bless these woods.

Here she could be a wolf, an owl, or even a cute woodland creature if she felt the irony was needed. No matter what skin or fur she wore, solitude was always best suited.

Pale jade eyes blinked at the bough directly above her, eyes focusing to the foreground now as if she could see an imperfection in the details. Eyes narrowed as her human body stilled, instinct she honed over the years telling her something was amiss. It was not until two orange eyes opened up and peered down upon her, laying against the earth between tree roots and twigs. Those eyes could blend with the autumnal scene she witnessed many times here, but in the gentle heat, she knew they were weeks from such turning.

A head came into view now, followed by a humanoid figure that perched in such a way that was not comfortable for any human. Skin stretched taut over bone in grey pallor, revealing movements that no human could possibly replicate. This was abomination, and not in the same sense she were one. She was born a natural abomination, feral by experience, and taught to hold a semblance of control once out of these woods. The creature that stared at her appeared to be a starved human, eyes oozing with the same amber that filled the gaunt sockets, stretching into thick tears down the hollow cheeks before breaking from the stream and falling down towards her.

Instinct had her moving before her brain could comprehend any danger. The woman shifted, a wolf dipped in ink now bolting from her sanctuary before the acidic drop bubbled into the dirt and melted away a hole into the ground. She was quick on four legs, darting along the forest floor she came to know, but the creature gave chase at an alarming speed. She had no time to assess the creature, to see any weak points to them if she were lucky enough to get close... but she could smell the acid secreting from it's eyes as the gusts of winds found their path past the bodies of trees. Her low growls were drowned by the snarling of the creature, as if it were enjoying this chase after hunting her for hours now. She could hear the hunger deep in it's cavernous stomach, the need to devour something and anything that it would chance making a meal of this scrawny human. Whatever skin she wore, it would not deter the creature actively pursuing her.

She never ran from these woods, never held fear too long to be chased out either. The wolf whipped round a tree to slow herself, rounding to meet the creature that now joined her on the grounds of the forest and it's skeletal fingers digging into the earth as it too came to a sudden halt several feet away from her. It was apparent their reflexes would prove difficult to deflect, those fingers most likely able to cut the throat of the wolf and make her bleed like any creature. She would not be able to simply bite at it's neck and snap it like most prey, especially as a thought whispered in her mind: What if it cannot be killed?



Crux

 
How cute, It thinks it's the predator.

Crux had been in the Falwood for an entirely different matter, one far less out of his usual comfort zone. So to hear that a Dread Ghoul had been spotted attacking livestock and dragging their carcasses into the forest, had actually been a welcome distraction. Where one Ghoul traveled, he knew more would begin to spring up if the situation was left unchecked.

Eventually, the freak would grow bold enough to hunt humans and elves instead of helpless livestock. Once that happened, it would lay its eggs in the corpses, and the numbers would begin to multiply beyond control. When things got to that point, only a direct attack on the Ghoul nest would suffice to snuff out the infestation.

This little beastie he'd been tracking through the woods all day? Merely a juvenile. Dangerous to the unprepared, but there was none more prepared than him. Still, the slippery devil was an elusive one, and he'd managed to evade Crux for the better part of the afternoon. The Hunter was willing to keep up the chase, to let it run dry on stamina...

Then she happened.

From his spot amongst the branches up above, hanging by the razor-sharp edges of his whip, he'd first thought her an ordinary human. The Ghoul had taken notice of her too, and saw exactly the same thing as he initially had; easy prey. Ignorant to his pursuer, the unholy thing had placed itself in a position to ambush the female, to claim its first human victim and begin the process of filling these woods with the undead.

Crux knew that she wasn't what she seemed, even before her body began to crack, contort, and rebuild itself into that of a wolf; as a human, her walk gave her away-- she led with her feet, letting her legs pull her forward as a beast would. It was subtle, but tangible. Whatever she was, she was wise enough to flee the confrontation, sending the Ghoul into pursuit mode.

Excellent. Made his job so much easier. Crux fell from the tree, retracting his whip and letting it smack against the dirt and leaves beneath him in a solid thud as he landed and took off after the pair, making no effort to match them in speed. A juvenile ghoul would take its time, and play with its food like the child it was.

Illyria
 
Eyes that were once that of a pale jade hue now yellow, golden in the dying rays that reached into this part of the woods. The warmth was waning, but in this wolven form, she could feel her blood coming alive. It warmed her bones; the powerful canine muscles she had spent a good amount of time exercising since she were a small child. Even as she was still, baring teeth at the creature before her, her determination blazed into an inferno.

Her instincts were born from this wolf, and yet her mind was still her own, human yet fragile. It was calculating, realistic in her chances as she was not versed in combat. Encountering such abominations in these parts were rare for her, despite the welcoming seclusion these woods offered. Even if she were to shift to a new form to counter the creature, she had no real sense of how to be useful. The wolf was her favoured form, to feel the power come to life in her muscles as she ran, to be a blur on the forest floor. That did not assist her in outrunning the creature, which began circling around her; wolf following suit and keeping a distance.

If only she could snap her teeth around it's neck and tear into flesh. Perhaps then she could celebrate a small victory, enjoy a soft flutter of hope.

She had been falling into a lull in the late afternoon sun, an exhaustion that would have taken her to a light slumber had she not spotted the creature. There was no energy left in her reserve to shift to something with an ability, to anything that possessed venom, or even something of an edge to deliver a fatal wound. Unremarkable as she was, she still had fight in her. Her eyes did not waver as the two circled, her jaw slackening to let the low growl emit without obstacle, until her paws were on uneven ground and the creature on flat earth. The divots made from disturbed ground gave her traction, made by the creature's elongated fingers. It gave her the edge she needed, to be faster than the creature who only roared in a deafening volume that hurt to hear. The wolf was committed, jaw landing true and driving canine teeth deep into the flesh. She used her body to pull it back, needing it to be on it's back so that she could move her body away from any harm.

No matter how quick she was, she was no match for the skeletal fingers that cut into her flesh and made ribbons.



Crux
 
He watched, making no haste in intervening in the battle as he approached the pair of them from a distance. Why would he? For all Crux knew, maybe this little wolf-girl had what it took to bring the Ghoul down. He doubted it, but it would save him the trouble. He could walk out of this forest without having to spill a drop, and go get something to drink, maybe a cheap bed to sleep on.

The mere thought of it made him sneer, his hands twitching impatiently as he reached for his whip blades. There was no fooling himself; he wanted this. He ached to feel that ghoul's life fade away with his hands wrapped around its neck. He hadn't followed them all this way to watch-- no, this was a party for three, whether they wanted it to be or not.

Wolf-Girl lunged, angling herself to latch onto the ghoul's nape. She had good aim, he'd give her that, but he doubted the thing even felt it. They were... stubborn like that. Regardless of its effectiveness, her maneuver did force the ghoul to spin around with an inhuman snarl, so that it could reach her sides with his jagged, rotten claws. Now its back was turned to Crux, and he had a free shot.

A handicap he didn't need, but he'd take.

Picking up his leisurely pace to a sprint while the ghoul was occupied he swung the whip blade in his right hand behind him, waiting until he heard its hollowed and silver-filled tip graze the dirt behind him before he brought it back forward, sending it flying towards the center of the ghoul's bare, decaying back.

The girl would feel her foe stiffen and cry out, abandoning its attack on her and reaching over its shoulders to remove the burning silver embedded in its back. In vain, but Crux would give it the freedom it so desperately wanted from misery. A grin one would accompany more with pleasure than a fight spread across the demon-hunter's lips as he dug his heels into the ground, gripping the sharp edges of his whip blade with bandaged hands and tugging back with all of his strength.

The ghoul lurched back, a chunk of its neck tearing away in Illyria's mouth as it fell to the ground in a puddle of blood as black as onyx, its cries now sounding more akin to that of a whining pup seeking milk. Jutting from the loose, dead muscles of the creature's back was what looked to be a portion of its spine, dislodged by Crux's efforts.

"You'd have made a weak Patriarch." He snarled at the wounded beast, walking closer and making his presence known. "A whole hive of ghouls is no fun to burn out if they all come from an alpha that's so..."
The ghoul attempted to scamper away on all fours, but Crux brought up a metal boot and pressed it against the freak's waist to hold him as he reached down and wrapped a hand around the protruding spine, his features tightening as he ripped it free, the ghoul at last going limp as he tossed the column of bone aside like a piece of garbage.

"...Spineless."

Wiping his hands of Ghoul blood, he peered at the wolf with one sullen eye.

"You're going to want to clean those wounds of yours. Ghoul claws infect almost every time if you aren't careful."

Illyria
 
She had picked up his scent as he moved his bladed whip, her maw still latched onto the throat that tasted of decay and a burning that was unbecoming of flesh. Her eyes never lifted, intently watching as pain and desperation made the body shudder and twitch, and suddenly the flesh pulled from muscle and bone and remained between her teeth. The flavour was unwelcome and the wolf gladly slackened her jaw to let it fall from her tongue.

Eyes golden as a retiring sun bore into the male, stranger and allowed to continue what he no doubt came to do. His business was with the creature, and the wolf happily took a few steps back to watch as this creature was rendered useless. The tearing out the spine was no quiet affair, squelching as blackened blood became free and poured from the spout of open wounds.

Her side roared, eliciting a low growl from the wolf as the male finally looked her way and assessed her damage. It is merely a scratch, she thought, but the wolf had no way of communicating like she could as a human. The ability to shift meant that returning to her form she was blessed with at birth would be bare, save for the blood now present from her ribs and spilling down her side. The black coat of the wolf hid the sanguine stains, but her fragile mortal state made artwork of it upon her pale complexion. She was of this forest, a child accepting of the freedoms beneath these treetops, and so she did not hide herself from him gaze as her hands went to the torn flesh.

"It is only a wound. I smell no infection." She finally spoke. Her dark hair fell forward, much too long than what was fashionable, but it fell in matted locks with twigs and crushed leaves clinging to them. "I will..." Her words hesitated in her mouth, held back from being spoken behind pink lips. No, of course she could not smell infection. This type of venom was almost cloaked with her scent of blood, but it was there. It was no burning of pain being felt, her skin agonized. "Venom..." She came to note, bringing up her bloodstained fingers to her nose.

Crux
 
There was no gaze to hide herself from, even if she were so modest. The stranger who'd so brutally come to her aid showed little interest in her bloodied and wounded body. The only lust that he'd ever felt was to bring pain to those who had brought pain unto him. There was the occasional romp with a tavern wench to relieve tension, but that was only to keep his mind clear enough to stay focused on his task.

No, his job here was done. The ghoul lay dead and motionless, and Crux had been the last thing its putrid eyes had seen before its demise, just as it should be. The only thing left was this strange shifting survivor, but she was nothing to him. Meant nothing to him.

So why then, he wondered, didn't he walk away as the poison of the ghoul's claws began to take effect? She'd lost in a fight she was outmatched in. That was the natural order of things. It wasn't his fault she wasn't fast enough, that she'd turned and fought when she couldn't possibly win. If anything, she deserved what she was getting with the slow-acting venom in her bloodstream.

Yet even so, he felt his lips twitch in annoyance as the reality of her situation seemed to dawn on her. No, he supposed, it wasn't what she'd deserved. The ghoul shouldn't have been here in the first place, and it'd be a poor reflection of his skills if there was a casualty he could have easily prevented. With a small nod of his head towards the opposite of the way they'd come, he speaks gruffly.

"Come on, I have a camp just east of here. I have some anti-venom there, if you can make it that far."

Without a word, he begins to walk eastward, passing her without another glance. Wasting expensive ghoul remedy on a wolf-girl, he must be out of his mind. At least he was well stocked, and the chances of any more ghouls this far out were next to none.

Illyria
 
Deepening the furrowing of her brows, she dropped her hand to her side before lifting her eyes to where the stranger stood. She was wary, always wary of those she encountered, but this individual felt as if he would care not for thank yous and words of appreciation. Nor would she be willing to utter such empty words, lacking the manners for such courtesy. The fact he made killing the creature look effortless annoyed the shifter, although her skills in killing were not honed by hunting creatures, only the animals of the forest.

The blood began to cool, but she knew it was still hot to the touch. The venom worked quickly than anything she ever knew, knowing that if she truly wished to survive, she best keep up with the stranger. Without a word, only a strained gasp of air as her muscles protested to the movement, she followed. What did she have left in this world to cling to? Why not lay there and allow the venom to do it's deadly work upon her? Was this not a natural way of this life?

She was silent, and had every right to be. With every pump of her heart, the colder she felt. This did not effect her ability to keep up with the creature slaying male, no. For the first time, she felt as if this body was not her own. This natural form of the shifter was her own nearing skin and bone, pale sickly pallor, and long tangled locks of ebony that needed a fair cutting. The woman was disconnected from her body; her mind trying to will some sort of change to her body as a last attempt of control.

"I think we may be too..." the words died in her mouth, footsteps faltering to a slow advance before she looked down at her side. There it was. The infection. The scent was pungent, shocking her enough that her nostrils flared at the unforgiving smell. Determination kicked in, and she willed every thought and muscle to move forward, to not stop until the camp was within reach.

A thought kept her alive, kept her moving despite the protestations of her entire aching body: I will not let this man watch me die.

Nobody should watch such a pathetic scene such as a slow death... and he looked like the kind that preferred swift death.

Crux
 
The eyes of the one who led her did not look behind him to see if she followed; When he reached his destination, she would either be with him, or dead. That choice was not his to make: Should she not wish to live another day, or should her spirit give out before he could help her, then today would be her last, regardless of his opinion.

Ghoul infections were excruciating, but they killed slowly. Though the woman may feel like death, the venom wouldn't actually end her for at least a few hours. Of course, paralyzation would come sooner, and then those hours became akin to hellish years. So long as she had the desire to live and the strength to fight for that desire, she would make this trip.

For that reason, his heavy footfalls on the overgrowth beneath them paused only briefly at her choked concern, head of raven hair turning briefly to see if she stood. "Don't look at it, don't breathe through your nose. It's not the poison you're feeling, but the shock. Panicking will kill you far faster than a ghoul's venom, I assure you." He returned to his steady march, reaching out to part some foliage in the path. The smell of cooking meat wafted through the trees now, mixing viscerally with the scent of rotting flesh from Illyria.

As they crossed through the brush, Crux's camp would come into view. It wasn't much; a tent propped up by sticks buried into the ground, a rather large brown horse lapping water into her mouth from a wooden bucket, and a skinned animal roasting over a campire. The hunter smiled, unseen by the woman behind him as he noted none of the local predators had taken his bait and eaten the trapped meat.

"One minute, let me retrieve the antidote. Oh, and don't get too close to the fire. It's snared."

He skirted around the fire pit, reaching out to lay his hands on the horse, who stomped and huffed at his presence. Crux's image as some strange golem of anger and hate was betrayed by the gentle touch he ran across Bhala's mane, petting her with a small muttered coo. "Easy girl... she's a friend. For now. No biting."

Crux's hand dips into the satchel bag hanging on Bhala's hip, digging around for a moment before retrieving a vial of purple liquid, with a stone cap in the vague shape of a ghoul's head. Turning to look back at the fading woman who struggled now to even stand, he sighs, returning to her and holding out the concoction.

"Drink, sit, and brace yourself. It will save your life, but it will not be painless."

Illyria
 
Her eyes did not register her feet moving one forward before the other, did not realise the changing scenery until she groaned angrily, baring her teeth at the pain scorching through her. If the male she had been following had spoken to her, she had no recollection of what was said. Her thoughts were consumed with the slow poison, now clawing at her arms as if it were possible to track it moving in her veins.

The woman practically snarled at the male moving closer to her, and the shifter's eyes went from green to red, to orange, and then settling to grey before the original iris colour flickered to the pale jade. Crazed eyes regarded him warily, looking for a threat that had yet to be made known, but the imagery of the vial became clearer to her. It was offered to her, and that one thought told her to take it. Seize it from his hands and to drink the contents of it.

Moments passed before her bloodstained hand shook as it rose, tentatively taking hold of the vial. Top open it was quite the task, her vision blurring or her hands had been shaking so much, or perhaps both. If she were any other animal wounded in this forest, she would have given it a swift end to their life.

Did the man and her have than in common?

Finally, she had been able to pry the stopper loose, bringing the vial to her lips and poured as quickly as she could. It tasted awful, the lingering taste causing her to cough so much she was unable to breath. The antidote was quick to work, filling her veins with ice and fire, a fever she had never felt before. She dropped to her knees and dropped the empty vial, her muscles clenching and relaxing at alarming speed before the wolf returned. In this form, she was able to writhe in a way that would be less maddening as a human. The wolf whimpered, emitting low sounds that made it known that fighting the infection was no easy feat.

Only when the wolf stilled, a minute of catching breath, the shape of her human form had came back. She was on her front, pushing herself from the ground slightly before shutting her eyes and gritted her teeth.

"You carry this around for yourself, or for others?"
 
Crux appeared nearly bored as he stood over the woman, struggling and battling for her very life as the antidote mercilessly ripped the poison in her bloodstream apart. Though outwardly he showed no sympathy, in truth, he could not blame her for her reaction. He too had wailed and writhed the first time he'd endured the pain that now wracked her senses.

In the midst of her agony, she changed again to that of a wolf, limbs thrashing wildly against the ground, pathetic whines and furious growls escaping her as she clawed at the dirt, seeking relief from the torture she likely felt within her body. Crux did nothing. He stared down at her, cold and unaffected.

But there was something there, buried deep beneath the layers of ice. A semblance of pity? An iota of sympathy? Perhaps something softer, perhaps a kinship to her distress.

After her disease had been expelled, Crux turned around to tend to his horse. The act seemed rather callous, but it betrayed his unfeeling facade; If he hadn't cared what happened to her, he would have looked away long ago. That he waited until she'd become stable was perhaps the kindest he'd been to anybody in some time.

"You carry this around for yourself, or for others?"

Feeding Bhala an apple, Crux let out a scoff of amusement at the question. "I know your head might not be clear yet, but I think you already know the answer to that. Do I seem like the kind of person who has many friends, Wolf-Girl?" No, she'd been an exception to the rule. An investment he wasn't certain the reason he'd made.

"I could have killed the thing before it got its claws in you and I didn't. I don't do debts, not even to dead people. This is me breaking even with you, that's all."
 
Illyria moved so that she could sit up, wincing as she could still feel the antidote working within her system. Her movements felt groggy, as if she had awakened during a deep sleep. This was giving her a moment to look around his small camp, noting the horse last as the male tended to his steed.

"And what exactly was that thing? It does not belong in the Falwood." She was not the kind to give thanks, regardless of the attitudes on display. If he had left her there to rot, she would not have given it any thought. More wild than human, more detached than a part of the societal norms in the nearest village from here.

His gruffness did not deter her. She welcomed it.

She rose now, feeling more herself and capable of ignoring the antidote. The woman stretched, flexing her fingers at her side and nodding to herself when she could still feel the wolf she preferred to shift into. He had called her Wolf-Girl, and until she could determine whether to trust him or not, that was how she would like it to remain.

"Where had it come from?"
Crux
 
Letting Bhala finish her snack, Crux turned himself back towards the fire, drawing a knife from his hip and kneeling beside the flames to cut at some barely visible strings surrounding the roasting meat. He'd hoped that maybe a larger animal would come along and make a move for the free dinner, and get snagged up by the hidden snare for his trouble, leading to a heartier serving for Crux.

No such luck, but it wasn't as though he was starving. Had to wonder if Wolf-Girl here expected to be fed as well as healed. No... she didn't seem as spoilt as the city women he'd come across. Good, he might actually share if she kept her trap shut.

"That..." He grunted and pulled the trap free, tossing it aside. "Was a Ghoul. A Dread Ghoul to be precise. Nasty little shits. They kill and lay eggs in their victims to form colonies." The Wolf-Girl was lucky she'd only been clawed by a juvenile in over his head. Dread Ghouls were one thing, but if their spawn was allowed to mature into fully developed Dreads... Well, even Crux wouldn't have been so eager to fight them alone.

The sour-faced man ripped a small chunk of the roasted animal meat from the stick it had been cooking on, and tossed it to the Illyria. "As for where it came from, I have no idea. Could have stowed away on a wagon, snuck through a portal stone, or an idiot could have stolen a Dread egg not realizing what he had. Either way, you'd better hope he was the only one."

Illyria
 
She frowned at the browned meat she had caught, baring her teeth as she sucked in air in surprise of the hot piece. She had been so used to getting by on small forest creatures as a wolf she could not remember the last time she had something hot and cooked. Gingerly, she lifted the meat into her mouth and closed her eyes to savour the juices she could not taste past the blood when raw.

The flavour was enough to cloud the bad taste in her mouth when he had said they laid eggs in their victims.

"I came to these woods to be rid of the idiotic ideas that come from humans... and yet they still find their way in here." She wiped her hand on her bare thigh, not caring that the oil made it slick. "Surprised it found it's way this deep. Rarely do I see humans." A pointed look his way, curious if he merely followed the creature or he had stumbled upon it on such luck.


Crux
 
For the first time since the two of them had crossed paths, Wolf-Girl got the briefest huff of a laugh from Crux's mouth. He pulled his meal away from his mouth, still skewered on the stick that had held it over the fire as he looked over at her. "There's nowhere to truly hide from them, Wolf-Girl. That's a fool's game." He spoke as if it was from his own experience, and indeed it was. He too was an outsider to humanity at large, though not as much as she, evidently.

"You have a small advantage, being the elves and the fuckin' fae who live in these forests and scare them off, but..." Crux gave his head a shake, bringing the roast to his mouth and tearing a bite free, chewing it down and swallowing with none of the slow savoring that his new 'friend' was doing. "...It'll never be enough. Soon enough every continent is gonna be crawling with them. Best you can do is run, I suppose."

Crux continued to speak as though he wasn't human, and to his credit there were those that would argue in favor of that distinction, to anybody looking from the outside though, he appeared to be the very thing he now lambasted.

He peered over at her and met her gaze. Oh, she was trying to be discreet. Rather funny coming from a girl like her, wasn't it? Naked, and smearing meat grease on her thighs? Raising an eyebrow, and looking down at where her skin shined from the oil, he shrugged his shoulders.

"I hunt them. Monsters, I mean. Say what you will about humans, but freaks like Ghouls and the unholy beings like them... they don't belong here in any capacity. So, I get rid of them."

Illyria
 
His use of regarding her as Wolf-Girl amused her, a light smile spreading as humour coloured her pale eyes.

"So you are the one called to deliver this culling in the unnatural beasts such as ghouls?" Clear memory of him ripping the spine from the ghoul played in her mind, and she had been impressed by such a display. It was bloody and unkind on innocent ears, but the squelching as bone left the confines of a meaty home gave the shifter a sense of serenity. They both would not shy from such gore, but she doubted their reasons ever matched up.

"Sage advice from such a man capable of killing a difficult opponent... I pity those foolish enough not to be able to run." She could of kept running, much longer than the creature would have anticipated, but she was not the type to run. These were her woods, her home. Perhaps she was foolish for such thoughts, but she was prepared to fight and die. There was no entanglements in her human life to keep her living.

"Just you then, hunting them down?" She was quite chatty, suddenly aware of her gentle voice. Curiosity got the better of her when her sweeping gaze picked up a camp set up for one, and seeing how he worked, she was in favour to believe he operated alone. He must not have thought helping her with an antidote was in his cards this evening.

Crux
 
Save a pup and feed her some scraps, and suddenly she starts yipping. Crux thought to himself, the introspective moment also causing him to realize just how much he'd begun to tell her as well. He stole a quick glance at the bare-skinned shifter, suppressing a grumble. Why was he entertaining this conversation? She was naked, but he wasn't looking for a rut. He'd made sure to take care of that before traveling all the way out to this hell of trees.

Must have been the food in his gut. A decent meal did tend to put him in a slightly better mood. He looked down at the kiboshed mammal on his stick, grimacing before leaning in to take another mouthful. If she thought this made them buddies, she wasn't as sharp as he'd thought. He wasn't about to go giving her his life story.

She could just be trying to figure out if she was going to be outmatched in a fight, after all.

"I'm not called, I choose to come." He corrected her, setting the meat aside and bringing his hands to the fire to warm them. It wasn't particularly cold, but he was low on magic, and his skin didn't retain heat as well when he was running dry. "Sometimes I get paid for it, sometimes I don't. That part doesn't really matter to me."

Suddenly he turned it back on her.

"And what about you?" He pressed. "Turning from human to wolf like that, running around the Falwood with your tits out like you're one of the Faeries. What do you do when you're not being attacked?"

Illyria
 
A dark brow quirked into an arch, grateful for this mundane conversation. It was not often that she would encounter another soul other than the creatures and animals that dwelled in this forest. Usually it was herself being a predator and hunting for her next meal, moving on from the pack of wolves she had taken up home with.

Surely he was not humouring her line of questions out of the goodness of his heart, more so for an exchange of information. The inquiries turned to her now, and a light grin tipped her lips. "I keep to myself. Rarely does anything try to bother me... wolves are often looked over at this point." As a child, she knew this. She was not meant to exist, nor was she wanted by her long forgotten family that abandoned her. That feral urge to simply survive fueled the shifter for years and years, and called to her during the brief years she was forced to become accustomed to a life as a human meant to become a soldier.

"Here in the Falwoods is freedom. No one to miss, and no one to miss me. I find peace with my own thoughts..." It was rare for her to remain as a human and laze like she had earlier in the afternoon. The feel of the sun was a different warmth in her natural form, and she liked laying on her back and staring up into the rustling leaves. Those were human things she enjoyed, just like she enjoyed the power in her muscles when running in her favoured wolf form.

Crux
 
Peace with my own thoughts.

Crux felt something in his gut, a pang of jealousy irked by that statement in particular. If only it were so easy, to take solace in one's own mind. Even after ridding himself of the invasive being that had violated him, still his dreams were haunted. A grimace crosses his face.

"You're lucky." He glowered, still leaning in towards the warmth of the flame, embers flicking into his black hair and glowing for a moment before fading into nothing. "Not as many humans out here, mostly just Elves, and the Fae if you know where to look. Neither of them are too keen on interfering with nature. Hell, some sects of Fae will off you for it." Crux admittedly wasn't an expert on those creatures, but he knew at least one group lived around here somewhere, maybe more. Mean bastards, when they wanted to be.

"But they'll come. You realize this life of yours isn't sustainable, right?" If it were as simple as running and hiding from the world, Crux would have done it himself. He turns his head, heavy and sullen gaze lingering on her lazing form. "Someday it's gonna crash down around you. When that happens, you either adapt or you collapse with it."

A pause followed, Crux silently drawing more comparisons. She wasn't unlike him, in some ways. In others, she was the opposite. Still, her way of living intrigued him, if nothing else.

"Which one will you do, Wolf-Girl?"

Illyria
 
He stole the thoughts and doubts she had in the past and spun them back onto her, as if there was now no escaping or evading the question and reality of it. Her eyes averted, landing on the rising embers and smoke coming from the fire as her arms tightened around her legs, chin resting on the knees.

"I was caught once, taken to an Academy to become yet another soldier to fill the ranks. I didn't take to the lifestyle... no one came looking for me after I left." She shared, still refusing to look up at him. He was right, and that was always the hardest truth for her. "I have nothing. Kept it that way as long as I could... but do not envy me for the peace I have in my solitude." Pale eyes flicked up to meet his, a smile not quite reaching them.

She shrugged, her long, tangled hair falling forward over her shoulders as she released her legs, stretching them out before her. "I would have been happy without the antidote, you know? To have something worthy to disrupt this calm." A chuckle escaped her lips, yet she caught it just in time to stifle it.

"Being alone... I would not have it any other way, but..." Her thoughts were running, too fast for her to settle it enough to piece together the rest of what she wanted to say. She would fail at this, and she accepted it.

"Maybe one day you will think back on this Wolf-Girl. Perhaps remember her name was Illyria, and that she was out in these woods. Actually, Wolf-Girl works. I cannot recall the last time I told anyone my name." She shivered, but not enough to make that humouring smile falter.

Crux
 
As much as it irked Crux that she was being so open and honest with him, she also answered several nagging questions that had lurked in the back of his mind. It would have made sense for a woman with her unique ability to be a target of Vel Anir's little recruitment program, though the mere idea of them attempting to subvert somebody like her made him question their sanity.

So, she was a runaway Dreadlord Initiate. She'd somehow fled all the way to the Falwood, and had been living here for the past who knows how long. Wolf-Girl looked away from him, and his eyes narrowed. She was right-- she was nobody. She'd vanished, just as she'd wanted. Just as he'd craved, long ago.

And now, this Illyria balked at his choice to save her.

Crux felt his lips twitch.

"You're restless. This isn't enough for you anymore, is it?" There was annoyance in his voice as he slowly rose to his feet, grasping at his neck to unfasten the clasp of the leather armor that wrapped tightly around his chest. It clicked and fell away like a second sheet of skin in the dirt beneath him. "You hate the people, but you crave the -action-. You want to live. You want to feel your blood pumping."

It was unfortunate, that he was right about her.

Crux wiped his face with the loose and tattered scarlet tunic he wore underneath his armor, cleaning the sweat from his brow as he tossed his armor over next to his horse. It had been his first approximation of the girl, that she couldn't live out here forever without ending up like him. For the briefest of moments, there'd been hope. Maybe she'd found a way to make it work, to live without humanity and be truly complete.

No. She was becoming just like him. Maybe not as haunted, but the unfulfilled urges were shadows of his own.

Taking a swig of the water at his hip, he tossed the canteen over to her without looking in her direction. That little smile she'd given him... it made him pity her. He didn't like that feeling. Nor did he like that she was looking less and less like a Wolf-Girl and more like a woman the more she spoke.

"Take it from me, it doesn't get any easier. But if I thought your ass wasn't worth saving, I wouldn't have saved it." Crux brushed some of the hair from his face to look down at her as she stretched. "So spare me on that, Illyria." The name was somewhat foreign on his tongue, but it didn't look like he'd be using it for long. There was no reason for this woman to stick around much longer, was there?

Looking her over one more time, he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed.

"I crave your calm. It's a luxury I wish I had. That's why I won't have you wasting it, but..." He reached out to take his canteen back. "If it's a disruption you want, you have to seize it. It's not going to come looking for you, because that's how you've set yourself up."

Illyria
 
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Without hesitation, she took the canteen and took a few gulps of the water, letting the liquid wash away the dryness in her mouth. She took this time to listen, handing back the canteen once she was done and knitting her brows together as he spoke those last words to her.

Illyria had tried to find something to tether her outside these woods, but she became overwhelmed by the society humans lived with. Crowds became too disorientating, and there were things others had that she never had in her life. "I don't know how to live either life. It isn't just going to find it, it's about having to go beyond what I am comfortable with. I have no real fight in me." Although that was not true. In this moment, she was comfortable despite the agony she felt from the poison and the effects of the antidote. Those that knew her during the times she spent as a human in civilisation spoke of the feral girl, of how she could never be the picture of a proper lady in society, or respectable in any case.

They would not meet ever again. Illyria found home here, and the other hunted things like that ghoul.

"It matters not what I want, only that I have lived contently and happily. A luxury many would strive to achieve, no?"

Crux
 
Taking back his canteen, a dissatisfied look settled over Crux's face. She was a child, then; Unsatisfied with her state of being, but unwilling to change it. For a woman who took the form of such a feared predator, her drive and determination were sorely lacking.

For the briefest of moments, Crux had thought perhaps he'd found somebody interesting, somebody he almost came remotely close to relating to. He'd been wrong. This Wolf-Girl... perhaps someday she would understand, but that day was not this one. Whatever she did from here no longer mattered to him, that brief connection he'd allowed himself to make with another severed. Her contentedness was his discomfort.

"If you don't think it matters what you want, then you don't have the self-respect to call yourself a Wolf, Illyria." Crux tucks the canteen away and turns from the bare woman, walking back towards his camp. "Maybe someday you'll learn, but not while you hide in the trees and wait for death because you fear the alternative." Crux could have stayed in the Blightlands, living among the slaves and the filth where he was a big fish in a small pond. No one would have dared challenge him there, not after the examples he'd made.

But he needed to fight. He needed to lash out and take revenge on that which had wronged him-- The entire world that had wronged him. Only when he ruled himself did he feel alive. He had no interest in a woman who let her fears rule her.

"Stay until you can move, but I expect not to see you when I awaken Illyria. I won't have a second dose for you if you squander this chance." Crux slid under the makeshift tent onto his bedroll, rolling to face away from her and closing his eyes. In only moments, he would be asleep.

Illyria
 
He was right, and that was the frustrating truth Illyria could see as he left her to her own thoughts. There was a part of her that wanted to feel that resurgence of life, to want to feel that drive... but she had been alone too long. Had spent more time as a wolf out here in the Falwood than working hard to make a life as a human worth it. But she did not weigh the male with her woes of being abandoned as a child, that she was happy and content with herself...

She felt foolish to fantasize an ideal life, feeling as if she were betraying her true nature. Many times had she tried to claim opportunity for a better life, something fulfilling, but others and circumstance saw to each endeavor to fail.

Illyria moved to stand, gritting her teeth as the stiffness in her muscles protested lightly, but she persisted enough to right herself and look back at the stranger one last time. It did not feel right to choose the image of her wolf after his damning words, and so with a pained face, she shifted into a small falcon. Illyria opened her wings as she walked a little on the grass, getting used to the foreign anatomy before feeling she was right to take flight.

Whether the male cared to look at all, the woman was gone within seconds, disappearing into the growing darkness and the forest came to a gentle quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the leaves in the warm breeze.

Her self worth had waned in the weeks after, finding herself unable to shift into her comfort form of a wolf. Even as a human, Illyria felt no merit. She was at war with herself, torn with options and feeling no spark to pursue either one. She merely existed, and that was no way for the once wild woman to connect with herself.

What purpose had she left? What was there for her to fight for now she lost all sense of meaning and hope?


Crux
 
Stupid.

That was the final thought Crux had formed before the hilt of a steel sword had been driven against the back of his skull, that he'd never felt so stupid in all of his life.

Life since his first meeting with Illyria had continued as if the encounter had never even occurred. Crux continued to hunt the unholy and abnormal, both for profit and passion.It was a ceaseless journey of violence and vengeance, but it gave Crux his purpose, and drove him forward despite all the forces that moved against him. To rid the world of the evil that had preyed upon him, no matter the cost, that was why he existed.

And yet, there were those who would take issue with such a goal. Not everybody looked at the ugly, corrupt and occult side of existence as an obstacle. Among the filth that inhabited the world, there were those foolish enough to seek use of it. Crux had heard whispers amongst the alleyways, not long after leaving the Falwood, about a group of individuals seeking to control mindless abominations for their own personal gain.

What had truly caught his attention, was a rumor that this group had released a Ghoul in the Falwood some time back, in the hopes that it would infect the forest enough to warrant a burning of the trees. To what end? Even to Crux it seemed mindless, unnecessary in its cruelty. That he had so swiftly ended that Ghoul now seemed much more significant than it had at the time.

That Illyria. She would have been the beginning of an awful chain reaction.

The idea of an organization utilizing Ghouls was so troubling to Crux that it drove him to break one of his most cardinal rules. He prodded for information, got his nose dirty in places he wouldn't in an attempt to find leads. When at last a group in Alliria claimed to be on the trail of his 'Ghoul Cult', he joined with them on a trip to find and raze their operation.

Stupid.

They weren't on the trail of the cult, they were on the take. Mercenaries, hired to take out whoever it was that they'd caught wind of tracking them down. As soon as Crux had let his guard down they'd mobbed him, knocking him out with a blow from behind and tossing him in a cage on the back of a wagon.

He'd woken bound in the cage, the familiar trees of Falwood over his head as he was hauled to Gods know where. There was a rag wrapped tightly around his mouth, and all of his clothes had been stripped from his body. Fuck, where was his armor? Where was his weapon?

Crux couldn't see how many there were, but he heard a conversation ahead of him, muffled by the rumbling of the wheels. At least two then. Near the door of the cage was a large case, one he hoped contained his belongings. Even if it didn't he intended on slaughtering these idiots with his bare hands, as soon as he found a way loose.

Illyria
 
Perhaps the form of a falcon was not entirely too bad; her senses and reflexes much sharper than she could imagine as a wolf, or it is possible that she had such ease to utilise such attributes in this form.

It was freeing to see the Falwood up high, to be able to spot prey from up here and secure her catch within seconds. No matter what form she took, Illyria knew she was always suited to be the predator. She could be unassuming in the highest perches of a tree, forgotten until her talons clawed into whatever prey came her way.

She just did not expect to catch the scent of something familiar.

Illyria had no inkling where it came from, except it was weak and travelling at a considerable pace. Curiosity tipped herself forward enough to fall from the branch, her wings spreading once she had lowered to a height she was comfortable to glide at. It was hard not to see the fresh tracks in the damp dirt, leading to a wagon with a cage at it's rear.

None noticed her as she soared and cut through the air, effortlessly coming to a stop atop the cage and peering in. It was an ironic thing for a falcon to peer into a cage, when so often Illyria had seen many birds caged in the marketplace and for sale at extraordinary prices.

And the familiar scent she had followed had led her to its source, the same unkind visage that belonged to the man that hunted the ghoul.

She shifted to a smaller bird and kept quiet, pushing past the bars before resuming her falcon form. Here, she at least kept the natural pale jade eyes of her human form, perhaps to give him another reminder of who she was. Did he require assistance? Possibly, but she needed to hear it from the man. He did not look capable, stripped of everything and held back so that he was in no way a threat.

Such fortune that befell him that it was Illyria here before himself.


Crux
 
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