Private Tales Naked and Alone..ish

[Jorg]

Jorg crashed onto the ground, the sword on his back slipping free of the bounds as the man began to tear at himself. "G-gra-FUCK!"

He shouted at the Elf, his fingers digging into his clothing as muscles began to expand and break apart. Pain lanced throughout his entire body, a desperation coming over him as he did his best to claw at his own flesh and tear it apart.

Crack, crack, crack.

The sound of his bones shattering and moving into place resounded through the river clearing, the clothing he'd worn bursting apart at the seams as blood fur began to tear itself away. Scraps of flesh were ripped off, discarded as Jorg became the beast that lingered inside of him.

A howl escaped him as his muzzle formed, the beast coming together as it discarded the last of Jorg's skin.

Impossibly, the Wolf crawled onto two feet, standing nearly three feet taller than Jorg had and twice as muscular. Beady yellow eyes stared at Miriel, then glanced towards the horse. The creature made no move towards either of them, but a low growl swept through it's throat.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

For a moment Miriel didn't move. Didn't breathe. Her fingers itched for the blade at her hip but she resisted it; he wasn't the monster. He had said he had had a deal, well, perhaps this was some crossroads deal gone wrong. Perhaps he could control it. The growl made goosebumps appear all over her skin and then everything happened at once.

"Go," she smacked her horse on the rear sharply. The black stallion needed no more encouragement and reared up with a sharp cry before charging off and taking flight faster than Miri had thought humanly possible. Miri held her own hands up to show she wasn't going to hurt him and then took a slow step back.

"You're miles from the city, your parents shouldn't find out. Go - Hunt. When you're done I'll be here."

 

[Jorg]

The wolf stared at the woman.

There was a predatory look in it's eyes, but it was not eying Mieriel. It's head slowly cocked to the side as it watched the horse charge off and swoop into the air. An odd sort of look crossed over it's eyes, and then slowly the beasts attention returned to Miriel.

It's eyes seemed fixed on her, staring with an bestial intent. When she spoke the monsters ears flicked slightly, and then there was a pause. For a brief second the beast tensed, as though it were trying to figure something out.

Then, slowly it raised it's hand.

As the appendage came up Miriel would see three claws raised, as though it were trying to show her a number.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miri would have hurt him if he had gone for her horse. When he didn't she actually let out a relieved sigh and then lowered her hands to rest against her hips. Even though she looked more relaxed her eyes betrayed her, that warrior like focus as she studied him and waited for any sign of what it was he was planning to do. When he lifted his claws she tensed a little then her brows pulled down into a frown.

"Three hours?" she hesitated a moment. If he didn't nod or give her an indication then she would proceed to asking if it meant days or weeks.

 

[Jorg]

There was a pause, almost as though the beast had to think about the words she said. It's ears flickered back and forth, moving as though it were picking up every sound within miles.

Slowly it shook it's head.

Beady yellow eyes cast towards the left for a moment, a brief flicker that seemed to last for just a few seconds before it refocused it's attentions on Miriel. A tenseness seemed to fill it's muscles, but still the three claws remained raised.

It was clearly trying to tell her something.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

"Three... Days? Weeks?"

Miri cursed her luck that she had a way with horses and not wolves. She had no idea what the beast would have a need for three of. It apparently had nothing to do with time so she wondered if it had something else to do with how he turned back. Or was he not trying to sign three at all and had something wrong with his claws? She rubbed the back of her neck in exasperation.

"Three kills?"

 

[Jorg]

The beast began to nod it's head as she said days, but then quickly shook it once she moved on to weeks. Then when she said the word 'kills', the monster suddenly took it's head back, confusion playing over it's eyes.

It's ears the flicked again, head turning and eyes watching the tree line before slowly returning to Miriel once again. The three claws remained up, and at the same time the monster pointed up towards the sun.

Yet as it did so, something suddenly changed.

Ears flicked wildly, and then suddenly every muscle in it's body seemed to explode with tension. There was no warning, nothing at all that told of why it might have changed behavior.

The Werewolf launched itself forward, not at Miriel...but at the grotesque Froghul that had crept up on the bank behind her.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Realisation dawned on her and she began to nod her head.

"Three da-"

A very unladylike curse came from her lips as the wolf lunged at her and she dove to the side... to see him sailing over the top of her and into the abomination that had snuck up behind her. Another curse. Perhaps there would be a moment where there wasn't a her, Jorg and a monster. Three was definitely a crowd. She pushed herself to her feet and drew her sword then... hesitated. She didn't want to hurt him but she also didn't want to leave it all to him.

 

[Jorg]

The Wolf fought like death itself.

It moved with an odd sort of bestial grace, slicing it's claws through the Froghuls flesh and tearing at it's skin. Razor like claws cut through the beasts hide, black brakish blood splattering upon the riverbank as the two monsters fought.

A tongue lashed out from the Froghuls gaping maw, the end like a bludgeon striking Jorg's other-half in the face before it wrapped around his throat.

The Wolf growled in pain, it's maw opening as he came down in a powerful bite upon the Froghuls shoulder. The two struggled against one another, muscles flexing, a crack of bone heard as the Froghuls' arm was snapped at the shoulder.

A howl of pain escaped the beast, yet it's tongue tightened, choking the great wolf as the two fought.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

As the two fought Miriel crept her way around the pair so that she was positioned behind the Froghul. She kept the pair in her sights at all time and watched their movements intently. Only when she saw an opening did she lunge forward. Her sword came down between the two, slicing off the creatures tongue then sliding back up and away before it cut into any of the wolf's flesh. Her blade then came back down and slide the creature across the back of its neck before she hopped back and out of the way of any retaliation of attack.

Her eyes flicked briefly to the area around them, conscious that such a noise might attract more attention.

 

[Jorg]

As soon as the creatures tongue was cut free from the Wolf it let out a loud almost gleeful roar. It echoed among the trees, rebounding and resounding around the clearing.

Then it carved into what remained of the Froghul.

In a display of carnage and viscera the Wolf dug into the monster. Claws ripped apart flesh, shattered bones, stripped both muscle and sinew. Teeth tore into the Froghul's carapace, never swallowing but simply tearing away at what it could get do.

Black blood coated fur, and eventually the Froghul fell to the floor with a ragdoll loud thud.

The Wolf slowly pulled itself up, drawing to it's full height. Chest rose and fall, a bloody breath filled it's lungs, and then it howled.

The sound seemed to carry on for miles, ringing through the jungle like a call for war.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miriel was a warrior. She was not a stranger to the horrors of war or fighting. Blood didn't bother her. Carnage barely moved her. But what the wolf did to that creature made even her nose wrinkle. It was something beyond just fighting for survival - the wolf had enjoyed it. She took a few steps back after the first spray of blood indicated she was in the splash zone and focused on cleaning her blade while Jorg's other half finished up what he was doing.

When he howled her head snapped up and cast around.

"Ssshhh..!" she made quietening movements with her hand and then put a finger to her lips with a scowl. "What are you doing!?" she smacked the wolfs arm with a scowl. "You'll attract everything here within miles!"

 

[Jorg]

The wolf's howl came to a sudden halt as it felt a smack on it's arm.

Head snapped to look at her, beady yellow eyes locking on her features. Black blood poured from both side's of it's mouth, and it took a half step towards Mieriel. A hand raised, and then suddenly it seemed to stop.

A low growl escaped from the monsters throat, but it did not otherwise rebuke her.

Ears flicked violently in agitation, yet something seemed to be holding it back.

It's maw slowly closed, tongue running over it's lips to clear away some of the black blood clinging to it's muzzle. It looked at her, almost as if waiting expectantly.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

A creature over double her weight giving her sass? That, Miri was used to. She looked at him with the same warning look and attitude she did with the stallions on her farm as if daring them to find out the world of pain she was going to inflict upon them if they so much as dared raise a hoof to her. Something seemed to stop him either way and she nodded her head once in satisfaction.

"What?" she asked when it looked at her side on as if it wanted something from her. "I'm not bubble bathing you, get in the river and wash it off," she made a shooing gesture towards the river behind him. In truth she wasn't sure what to do next. Three days was a long time to stay out here and wait for him but she could go and come back with clothes. She would also need to think of some excuse or other.

 

[Jorg]

The Wolf seemed to linger a moment, confused. Ears flicked once again, but this time there was no urgency to it. Head cocked to the side, tongue lapping over it's muzzle one more time before slowly it turned and began to walk towards the river.

It's steps seemed to thunder as it moved, digging into the sand.

There was something oddly familiar about the way that it moved. Every step was practiced, patient, a warriors grace rather than a monsters gait. It seemed a reflection of the way Jorg moved, as though the mercenary had as much influence it as it had on him.

Touching the waters the Wolf delved in, walking into the central part of the stream until it was almost entirely submerged.

There it seemed to linger, simply waiting, watching Mieriel.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miriel watched in bemusement as he made his way into the river. Clearly the wolf wasn't used to being given orders nor having someone stand up to it. She wasn't entirely sure how long this hold over him would last, until the creature would have enough and simply ignore what she said and go off on his own. When he simply stopped and stood in the water she raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to do something... more than just stand there then she sighed.

"You need to wash your muzzle," she stepped into the river, scooped up the water and splashed it into her face in a demonstration then waited patiently for him to do the same.

 

[Jorg]

The Wolf seemed to stop a moment, then it shook it's head as if unwilling to cooperate.

Ears flicked.

It seemed almost...perturbed by the situation. It and Jorg had an understanding, they had a deal. It could not harm her nor any child...yet this had not been part of the bargain. The wolf understood that, knew it intrinsically.

Yet here it was, standing in a river, being told to splash it's face.

It continued to stare at Miriel, uncertain, waiting.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

"The blood is just going to attract worse predators, come in you sorry excuse for a rug," she splashed some of the water towards him with her hand before turning and making her way back to the creature. Her magic with fire might have been weaker and for smells like she had committed in the Spiders Lair, but this was where the real strength of her and her people lay. As her eyes closed she felt down beneath her feet and split the ground as if it were a nut. It groaned as it pulled itself apart and down fell the carcass of the creature, every bit of mud or grass that was covered in a shred of guts or blood. Then it began to push itself back together and formed seamlessly as if nothing had happened.

She ran a hand through her hair and looked around for anything else but seeing nothing she nodded then returned to wash her own hands in the river.

 

[Jorg]

'Washing' was not a concept that the Wolf was really all that familiar with. Usually when it's three days were up Jorg woke up covered in blood, gore, and with a metallic taste in his mouth.

The idea that it could clean itself was...foreign.

Still, as soon as Miriel turned around and was no longer looking, the Wolf quickly dipped it's muzzle beneath the water and washed off some of the black blood that was still stained there. Then it looked around, ears flicking.

By the time the Elf returned to the river, Jorg's alter-ego was already walking back out of the water. It moved towards her, intent still unclear.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miriel half glanced at the wolf walking towards her as she sat herself down on the shore and drew her blade which was still covered in the blood. She made a face then took out the cleaning kit she kept on her at all times in the small pouch that formed part of her belt. First came the cloth which she ran down the length of the solsti steel to clean the worst of the muck off, then came the grained block which she began to rub in small circles over it.

"Three days, I'll be here," she didn't look up as she spoke. One slow stroke down the blade. Then another before back to tiny circles. "I'll bring clothes for him so make sure you bring him here. Go," her eyes flickered up then. "Try not to get yourselves killed."

 

[Jorg]

For a few more seconds the Wolf seemed to linger, it's gaze flickering to her sword and then back to her.

Then slowly it shook it's head.

Slowly the Wolf pointed to the sword that Jorg had dropped when he'd first transformed. Then it pointed to Miriel, then it slowly pointed to it's own back. Head nodded, and then the Wolf pointed to itself once more before slowly motioning towards the woods.

There was intent to each motion.

A purpose. Would she understand?

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miri had returned to her cleaning but when she noticed the big flea bag wasn't moving she looked up to see he was impatiently trying to get her to do something again. She breathed out an irritated sigh.

"When did I become your squire?" she muttered but she did get up. She wasn't entirely sure why he thought a sword would be more lethal than those damned claws but who was she to judge the ravings of Jorg? She snatched it and the makeshift belt he had made for it up off the ground and then turned to regard the wolf. There was no way the belt was going over his larger form on the back.

She tied it about his waist instead and then smirked. He looked ridiculous.

"Happy now? Go, run, rub up against a tree. Whatever it is wolves do."

 

[Jorg]

The Wolf nodded, seemingly satisfied.

For a moment it seemed to linger, looking down at her with those beady yellow eyes. Then slowly it reached out and patted her on the hand.

The Creature's claws dwarfed her skull, and if it had wanted to it was clear that the beast was more than capable of ripping off her head. After a few more seconds the Wolf took a step back. One had raised in a wave, almost as if it was saying goodbye.

Then it dropped to all fours and suddenly rushed off westward.

When Mieriel returned to the riverbank three days later, there would be no sign of the Wolf. No sign of Jorg.