Private Tales The People-Hating Coalition

[Izoldë]

Izoldë studied the even-less-dead male as he drank. He carried himself in the type of way she had seen other humans in gilded carriages or fancy frilly clothing did. Like a pack leader, or whatever seemed to pass for one amongst humans. Yet from what little she had observed of humans - especially the lacy ones - they did not seem to like blood. Certainly not to drink. Whatever the maybe-friend was talking about clearly rang no bells with the skinwalker either, though that might have been more to do with the lack of vocabulary at her disposal.

"No heard of Dumb Tree," her head cocked to one side, considering. "But Big Tree is East."

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Izoldë

His attention shifted from the delicacy of the liquid in the cup to her in rapid fashion. Perhaps so rapid it would raise the hair on her arms and neck.

"Big Tree... you say. Well, it is supposed to be a big fucking tree alright..." Thoughtfully there as he sipped again from the blood but now a bit more idle.

Attention primarily on her.

Another sip until the cup is empty. Then a heavy sigh, because really Iren wanted more. The animal inside of him was already eyeing her up. Now he could easily take her (he thought) and drain her. But... she knew where that blasted tree was.

"Can you show me the way to it?"

 

[Izoldë]

The girl cocked her head to the side at the choice of words. She hadn't ever seen the Big Tree rutting with another but this world was strange. These mountains, whilst familiar in a fashion, were so different to the slopes she had called home. Such thoughts vanished however when he finished the cup and looked at her...

As if sensing the potential danger her eyes shifted from human to leopard, iris' slitting.

"Maybe. You walk like cub. Off balance. Not sure if can keep up."

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Izoldë

It was a good thing that Iren wasn't listening to her inner thoughts right now.

Big rutting tree indeed. He'd have spit out the precious blood laughing and that wouldn't have made anyone happy. Not after the song and dance they had performed to get that blood in the cup to begin with. He snorted at her assessment of his walk.

"That was when I was starving of hunger, little leopard cub." He bounced it right back to her. "You will find me much more agile now that I have had a little snack."

Part of him prayed they'd find some hapless traveler on the way there, but the odds of that were relatively... miniscule. This place hardly had anything of worth.

"So, are we departing to this big tree or what?" After all, she was the one who knew where it was.

 

[Izoldë]

Izoldë regarded the vampire before her for a few pregnant beats before standing and shucking off the cloak.

"Keep up," was all she said before the kaleidoscope of colours covered her skin and gave way to patterned fur. The large leopard gave maybe-friend one last look before loping off at an easy gait.

Despite the injured paw it soon became apparent she had meant her earlier words. The path she picked across the mountains was gruelling and certainly not one that could have been traversed by any normal human. There seemed no sense to the route she picked either, instead the path was that of a meandering animal guided entirely by scent and the sounds of other predators or prey she picked up with her sensitive ears.

After several hours of walking eventually the leopard stopped with no word of warming and settled down to rest. From the pin of her ears and the tenseness in her muscles it was clear her injury required rest before continuing.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

And yet Iren followed near enough by.

At times he lost sight of Izoldë but Iren never needed to use his eye sight. It was the inferior way of sight when you had other things at your call. Smell... he could smell her fur from a mile away now that he was keyed into it. The beat of her heart went on for miles on a rocky field that had no other meaningful life on it.

The hours passed and a moment after the leopard stopped Iren came to stop near her. Crouching down as he glanced around. In the distance... maybe that was the tree or it was just an unlucky hill. It was difficult to gauge from a distance like this even for his eyes.

"How long have you been by yourself?" Iren asked by way of filling the air with sound other than their breath and heartbeat.

Anything to distract him from the latter.

 

[Izoldë]

The leopard paused in her careful grooming at the poignant question. Flickers of memory raced across her mind. Of the so called monster hunters who had butchered her pack, of a woman's tear-stained face as she told her child to run and not look back, of a scream that had driven her so deep into her animal half she had not remembered her other half.

Her ears flattened against her skull.

No know. Only two-legs count moons. Why maybe-friend alone?

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Head tilted there as he glanced down at her in curiosity.

Iren did not press however. He was not currently invading her mind, but he still caught the edges... the shape of horror that had shaped this creature into what it was today.

"I see." He murmured softly and nodded. "Me? I am always alone." His thoughts went to Nicomo, the Bloodletters... "Even when I am with others." He tapped his lips there gently. "It is difficult for others to trust a vampire, little leopard."

In truth Iren didn't blame them.

At the end of the day if it was his hunger against their lives? The hunger would win out any time. Maybe that is why he kept himself emotionally distant from even his closest companions.

He knew that in the end they might perish by his hand... or teeth depending on your perspective.

"Do you not have a pack? Surviving in the wilds without one is hard." Crouching down next to it. Almost sympathetic in his tone. "You must be very strong to have done so for this long."

 

[Izoldë]

Vampire. She had heard that word before, and now he had said it again the faint memories it stirred up did match Iren's description. Another type of predator, but Izoldë had the confidence of youth and so dismissed it. Which is why she allowed him to get so close to her. That was, at least, until he mentioned her family.

The deep snarl she gave echoed off the side of the surrounding mountain.

Instead of an answer she leapt to her feet and stalked off, continuing on in the direction they had been heading, tail lashing side to side.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

He did not follow immediately.

Sometimes a creature needed space and time and purpose to heal from whatever loss had been inflicted in them. It was clear that for Izoldë... she had many more miles to go. Once some distant was made between them Iren began to walk in the same direction.

I apologize, little leopard. That was insensitive of me.

In truth Iren had grown desensitized about these sort of losses. How long ago since he had lost his own family? Long enough that he couldn't summon their faces even if he wantned to.

 

[Izoldë]

Izoldë glanced over her shoulder then back to her path, leaping with care onto a boulder and down the other side. Perhaps if she had more memories of what it was to be civilised she would have apologised in return, offered some sort of forgiveness, but wasn't anywhere close to it.

I am Izoldë, the name came with scents of mountain cedars, wild flowers and howling snow storms. The traditional way a name would be transferred between animals. Need no pack.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

It was progress in a way, wasn't it?

A name to put to the... face, so to speak.

A pleasure meeting you, Izoldë... little Leopard. He answered back before considering for a moment. Then. Iren Brightmane. Whereas she was mountain cedars, wild flowers and howling snowstorms Iren was ancient tomes, burning candles and the hidden scent of blood... trickling in hidden corners.

No doubt. You are most capable as is.

Iren would agreed with little argument because for one she had survived thus far. Secondly, it made little sense to try and antagonize her even more after that initial stumble.

Are you happy out here, in the wilderness?

 

[Izoldë]

The leopard's head cocked to one side as she considered the word happy. What was happiness? She tried to conjure up the feeling to compare it to how she felt now and failed.

Satisfied. That was how she felt, especially after a good hunt and a full belly. It was enough, wasn't it? The niggle of doubt made her uncomfortable.

Hunting trees makes you... happy? There was no mistaking the scepticism in her mental tone.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Hardly.

Even the tone in her head suggested a certain dryness and bemusement. But sometimes one must do things one doesn't want... because you have promised to assist. A disgusting sentiment, no doubt, but even though Iren was a blood-sucking vampire he did his best to stick to some standards.

Like keeping his word.

Apparently this tree's sap can be valuable to the right person. Which Iren was still a bit skeptical about. A tree was a tree.

Who gave a shit?

I appreciate your continued assistance. She could have run away after being fed after all.

 

[Izoldë]

There was a huffing noise from the leopard that sounded like a laugh.

Izoldë Great Tree Guide, she mused. The Skinwalker could not imagine why the sap of the tree would be of importance but... Big Tree has magic, maybe is this... sap. She didn't understand how magic worked but she had seen stranger things. Like a Goddess in the Wylds.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

He had never heard of a magical tree, but that didn't mean anything. Iren had been around long enough to know that him not knowing about something didn't automatically mean it didn't exist.

"Could be." He allowed her that. "I will just get a vial of it... if you want I can tap a vial of it for you as well, but I am unsure if it would be of any use to you."

Iren stretched there.

"Have you ever been to the tree yourself lately? Do you know if it is protected by anything?"