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Post by Vicorva on Oct 2, 2008 20:42:44 GMT
"You don't look fine," he said bluntly, but she was in no need to appreciate it. "You're soaked through, and if we don't get you inside with some dry clothes you're gonna freeze to death out here."
Kind of the point, genius... she thought grumpily. She didn't want to be saved by some hero-type- she neither deserved it nor needed it. As he turned to point to his cave, he exposed his silver claymore to her, causing her to gasp, it's nearness causing her breathing to suffer. She was allergic to silver in a way far worse than other werecreatures. She scooted back a little from him.
He turned back, explaining about his cave. She didn't want to go... she didn't. Well... I sort of do... she thought. No matter how much you hated your situation, you could not help but long for warmth when you were out in the freezing cold.
"Or, there's Thirsk, but it's further away. I'm not sure how long you want to spend in this shit," he added. Thirsk... the mead hall...
She shook her head vigorously at this suggestion. Going to the mead hall would be a bad idea. Then she'd be surrounded by people, and it would likely end with her death, and possibly the death of another.
She was just coming around to the idea of going to the cave- just for a little bit, when he scolded her. "What the hell are you doing, running around out here all by yourself, anyway? Don't you know that it's dangerous?" he demanded.
His tone set her teeth on edge. "I don't see that its any of your business," she retorted sharply, her anger clear. Her expression was dark and fearsome now, the fire and steel that resided within the small woman clear. She rose to her feet, still shaking heavily. She was completely against being around him now. "Now, if it pleases you, sir, I'll go and take my stupid, reckless ass somewhere where I'm not given the third degree. Okay?" she glared at him, and began to trudge on in an easterly direction. It was clearly an effort for her, but her stubbornness would keep her going, if nothing else.
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Post by DarkNova50 on Oct 2, 2008 21:47:32 GMT
"I don't see how it's any of your business," she shot back to him. "Now, if it pleases you, sir, I'll go and take my stupid, reckless ass somewhere where I'm not given the third degree. Okay?"
A feeling of anger rose up in Will's chest as he watched the woman begin to walk away. Where did she get the nerve? She was the one gallavanting around like she was in western Cyrodiil, while in reality she was on the brink of freezing to death. He watched her walk away from him, albeit with a slight look of struggle to her movements, and resolved to do the same, turning his back on her and moving back towards his cave. If she didn't want anything to do with him, fine; it wasn't his job to babysit the damn tourists.
The Redguard marched resolutely back to his cave for several metres, before stopping cold. But what if something happened to her? There were werecreatures all over the island...what if one found her? Suddenly, the mental image of the girl running from a werewolf entered his mind, and he imagined the fear on her face, before she was torn limb from limb by the flesh-hungry beast. Was he really going to risk that, for the sake of his pride?
He grumbled sourly under his breath, fighting against the urge, before finally giving in, turning about, and chasing after the Breton. "Miss! Hey miss, wait!" he hollered after her, before closing the gap between them. "Look, miss, I didn't mean...it's just that you..." He struggled with his words, thinking of the right thing to say. One didn't speak to a Breton woman the same way they would to a tavern full of half-drunken Nords, after all.
The Redguard gave a sigh of resignation, shaking his head slightly. "Look, I'm sorry," he admitted hesitantly, but with a tone of sincerity nonetheless. "It's just that it really is dangerous out here, with the werecreatures and all. Now, my offer is still good, if you like," he explained. "I'm sure I could even find something for you to eat, if you don't mind wolf meat. But even if you don't want to head back to my cave, I'm at least going to make sure you get somewhere, alright?" His tone was noticeably more understanding than it had been just moments before, a genuine sense of concern lining the Redguard's face.
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Post by FC4 on Oct 2, 2008 21:57:24 GMT
When the food came Islin delightedly rubbed his hands together, the loose robe sleeves swaying around him as he did so. Licking his lips he grabbed his utensils and began to dig into the warm meal of soup and wolf meat.
There was a small scurry nearby, and Islin felt an annoying urge to look towards it even though he desired so much to just continue eating. Giving in, he looked over, then down, and saw a mouse the size of half a loaf of bread sitting there on the floor, just watching him. That little nose twitched, and Islin's eye followed suit, before he turned back to his meal and continued eating. But he continued to get that feeling from before, now accompanied with the feeling of being watched. He looked back at the midget rat, lip curled in annoyance.
"What're you lookin' at?" The nose twitched again, tiny whiskers flicking. The mouse just continued to look at him and wiggle that impossibly cute yet disgusting nose at him. "What, you want food? Here." He cut a piece of meat the size of the mammal's head and tossed it on the floor. "Now scat." He turned back to his meal, and continued to eat.
About a minute later he threw his arms up in exasperation, rolled his eyes, and turned in his chair to look at the mouse. "You don't want food, I'm too big for you to kill, you have yet to nibble my toes. What is it you want you incessant little pest?!" He got a few stares for this exclamation but wasn't paying attention to them. The mouse just twitched, but this time it was the head. It twitched towards the wall, towards outside. Islin pointed in that direction, disbelief in his eyes.
"What, you want me going back out there and freezing my ass off? Why don't you?" The mouse did nothing, and then twitched towards the wall again. Islin grumbled and returned to his soup, fully aggravated by the little beast.
And then it dawned on him. He turned around with revelation -as plain as it was cold outside- on his face, and snapped his fingers. "I get it now... You're Kynareth, aren't you? You want me going out and doing something about those Werebeasts, don't you? Well how about you tell me what it is you want me doing, eh?"
The mouse didn't suddenly sprout a mouth capable of speech, nor did a disembodied voice bombard his mind. Instead it just twitched its little head towards the outside world again. Islin growled, starting soft then growing more pronounced, and wrung his hands in the air in front of him. "Will.. you.... stop.... doing... that?"
"Alright, fine." He sighed, letting his hands drop. One of them childishly waved at the mouse as he spoke. "I'll go back outside." His eyes rolled as he turned towards his meal, and then suddenly he pointed down at the mouse, his fork in his hand. "But I am finishing this first, ya hear? I you ain't getting this piece of meat. Price you pay for my aggravation, you little rat." He snapped as he thrust the fork into the piece of food he'd given earlier, lifting it from the floor and eating it. When he swallowed, the mouse was scurrying off.
"Stupid Kynareth, tries telling me to do stuff without telling me what exactly, and using an annoying little beast." He grumbled under his breath as he ate.
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Post by Vicorva on Oct 2, 2008 22:09:51 GMT
Solstheim, being followed by an angry redguard
Mercury heard someone calling after her. She wasn't so stupid as to believe that it was anyone other than the redguard. Nobody would be so unlucky as to meet two arrogant, unnecessarily concerned jerks in one day... she reasoned grumpily.
Sure enough, he'd soon caught up with her. She faced him, fully intending to tell him to shove off, when she saw the expression of genuine concern on his face. She kept her mouth shut, and her expression suspicious, and allowed him to have a say.
She listened to him stubbornly, but his honesty and repentence brought her guards down and then stomped them into the dirt. She sighed: she'd find it hard to say no to someone as caring as this. Good people had always been her weak point.
"...I'd like that..." she said at length, and then- because she felt guilty now that he'd been so nice to her- she said, "... Look. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I've had a hard day, and I'm a bitch at the best of times anyway..." she trailed off, and shrugged. "Lead the way," she paused, and added, "My name's Mercury Vulpine, by the way," she added under her breath, "Not that it matters..." She knew the name she had chosen for herself was in some ways childish, but few were educated enough to grasp that either of them were anything more than unusual names.
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Post by webster52402 on Oct 3, 2008 0:19:22 GMT
The wind chilled Vantustius to the bone, his dragging feet puffing up small plumes of the frozen snow beneath him, as he lurched... in whatever direction he may be going at the time. He wasn't sure where he was headed, or just what he was going to do when he got there, he just knew that he had to get somewhere, somewhere that he couldn't do any harm. Somewhere where hopefully he'd just freeze to death or something, and end this curse of his.
What he found, instead, when he broke through the trees that had been surrounding him, was to find himself staring at the walls of a fort, as though it were mocking him. Van stopped for a moment, just gazing at the stone walls, before letting out a groan of frustration, dropping himself into the snow at the foot of the tree beside him. Ah, he didn't care any more... He was exhausted from his walking, and he was frozen, tired, and saddened... He was a beast, wandering the wilderness alone, just as he should be. Yet, there was still an aching hole of loneliness inside of him, a sign of his human nature still coming up to cause problems...
He let out a sigh, as he pulled himself over to lie against the bark of the tree, curling himself slowly up into a shivering ball. It was so cold here... But Vantustius didn't want to get into the fort ahead of him, where he would only cause more damage. Best to remain outside of the walls, for now. Perhaps, when the night passes, he will appear in there, if he survives the night. Where he can get some food, some directions, and hopefully, find a cave or something where he could live out his days.
It seemed his tears weren't completely done for the day, as a single one managed to squeeze itself out of his abused tear ducts, sliding down his cheekbone to patter against the roots of the tree beneath him. Good, maybe the tear would do the damn tree some good. Sniffling once, Vantustius' eyes slowly drifted closed, huddling in a bit tighter against the bitter wind...
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Post by FC4 on Oct 3, 2008 0:55:11 GMT
Islin reluctantly put down his spoon, dropping it into the now empty bowl, with nothing but dredges of soup remaining on the surface. He stared at it, then at the small scraps of the meat remaining on the plate. With a sudden fervor of a starving child he began to lick the bowl, trying to get every speck, and then began to pick at the crumbs. He stopped when he felt eyes on him, and looked sideways at the ground. Sure enough, that pestering mouse of the female voice was sitting there, watching him. Grumbling like a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar, fingers just wrapped around the edge of one nice, fresh cookie, he rose from his seat, dusting himself off.
"Thanks for the meal folks, I'll be off now!" He said cheerily, giving the Imperial and anyone within a wave. The man simply nodded back, unwilling to socialize any further with a man who spoke to the floor.
The moment he stepped outside, Islin regretted it. The wind picked up and whipped him in the face, sending him crashing to the snowy ground. He cursed fluently before picking himself up and wiping off the snow, then looking for a way out. They sure as hell weren't going to open the door for him, with Dusk near its end.
So... He did a little climbing. Up the stairs here, up the others there, and a hop over the edge, and he was-
"Oh shi-!" He hit the snow before he could even finish his curse, becoming engulfed by the crystalline bank of supposedly soft solid water. When people call snow soft... they certainly didn't jump from a fort wall to determine it. He thought to himself, too cold to mumble something. But after a minute he stopped shivering, and suddenly smiled.
"By Almalexia it's warm!" He exclaimed with delight, pleased with his discovery of the odd heating capabilities of a snow tunnel. His exclamation only furthered to lower the oxygen level in the now enclosed bubble of air within the snow bank, however, and he soon realized he was in a tomb.
From the snow a single netch leathered fist burst out, making a sizable hole from which the owner of the fist could breathe, and through which snow and cold air could permeate. Islin cringed at the touch of cold. Damn you Kynareth... you couldn't give me a damn mission in the tropics of Valenwood could you? No! Had to be a barren frozen wasteland. But fine, I'll play your game. You best pay me handsomely when I'm done though. Ya hear?! If the goddess could hear his mental banter, she made no sign of it.
Islin emerged from within the snow bank, looking around him with squinted eyes through the darkness and whipping snowy winds. He was in front of a forest edge. And leaning against one tree, was a man.
Islin moved as quickly as an freezing man could to the figure, bending down to look at his face. The guy was a mess, with specks of blood and even vomit on his face, and dirt everywhere. Guy looked like a born bum. For all he knew the guy could be dead. "You alright?" When the man failed to answer, he prodded the bum's shoulder. "You dead?!"
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Post by webster52402 on Oct 3, 2008 1:10:28 GMT
Vantustius let out a small grunt as he was prodded, slowly pulling himself up to a sitting position. He looked half dazed, pulled out of his stupor by a man with a rather obnoxious voice asking him if he was alright. Oh yes, he was perfectly fine, just taking a little nap in the snow. Don't bother me, I just love lying in this freezing powder right outside of where he could likely get a warm bed. Yep.
Vantustius was far too kind-hearted for this, though, as he looked up at Islin dazedly, as though he had taken a blow to the head at one point. Hell, with the blood and things, it looked like that that might have actually been a good scenario. But, it was beyond Vantustius' frozen tongue to mutter any sort of words, the frozen muscle that felt like a block of ice just flopping about his mouth as he struggled to talk to the man. "Mmn... Gum aweh..." Vantustius muttered, trying to tell the man to get away.
Dusk was falling rapidly, and when the sun left... Oh, Van didn't want to be next to someone when the change began to hit him. "Ahm angerum..." He muttered helplessly, letting out a half sigh as he leaned back against the tree, his head lolling loosely. He was so tired... So cold... But that was only a temporary feeling, he knew that when his blood began coursing hot through him again, feeling the urge to hunt, feeling the urge to kill... He'd be more energetic than he had been in a long, long time.
"Please..." This was the only word that Vantustius actually managed to form without a hitch, looking up at Islin with fearful, and begging eyes. He hoped the man could understand...
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Post by FC4 on Oct 3, 2008 1:34:15 GMT
"Mmn... GUm Aweh...." The man replied to Islin, who raised an eyebrow curiously.
"You want gum? What the hell? I don't have any gum on me. And even if I did it wouldn't-" He began.
"Ahm Angerum..." That sounded almost like 'anger him', but what that meant was behind Islin's comprehension.
"Great... cold, beaten up, and mentally stalled. Why can't you people just gather yourself in some padded building or something? Would save us all a lot of trouble, you know." He remarked, leaning forward to grab the man and take him up to the fort.
"Please..." It was the first word besides gum that Islin could distinguish, and the only one spoken so far that made even half a lick of sense. Islin paused, looking at the man eye to eye. For a moment he saw the fear and begging in the man's eyes.
But then he saw something else. A flash of a fang and a snarl, crimson covering his sight and blocking all of the world. And then it was gone. The moment it left Islin took an immediate step back, legs spreading into a tense, cautious posture and arms hanging at his side. "What the...?" He had no idea why he saw what he saw, but he had a mild idea what it might have meant. Unbeknown to him, in that close eye to eye contact he had seen a flicker of an animal within, a beast hidden. Just as how he had sensed the mouse in his presence. It was the Druidic connection to nature running through his veins, affecting his senses and giving him a sixth; the sense of the Beast. Of the wild animal. If he had been further from the man when the eye contact had been made, he would have likely never seen it.
But he didn't need that knowledge to know he'd likely seen a wolf in that vision. His eyes narrowed and his mouth became a serious line, as he tensed his left arm. If he was wrong, and the man was a victim of an attack, not a lycanthrope... he would be killing an innocent man.
But if he was right... Islin raised his left arm, pulling the sleeve of his robe back. His thumb twitched, a ring on the digit connected to a small wire. That wire pulled in the twitch of the thumb, and the two arms of the compact crossbow sprung out, the bowstring already pulled back. A single metal ring on his middle finger was attached to another wire. All he would have to do was twitch his hand down, and it would pull the trigger and end the man's life.
The silver point of the bolt rested above Islin's wrist, as he pointed his entire arm at the man he was a minute ago trying to rescue. "You're one of them, aren't you?" He snarled, angry more at himself for having gone so CLOSE to one of them. He could have been killed!
"Aren't you?!" He snapped louder, his other arm holding his elbow now to keep it steady. He just couldn't flick his wrist... not without being sure. And even then, he couldn't be certain it would be the right thing to do. She hadn't said kill them. She said handle them. What if she doesn't want me killing them? Then what do I do? So far as he knew Kynareth wasn't paying him for this crap; and unless there was a paycheck at the end of it, Islin often felt morality creep up.
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Post by scow2 on Oct 3, 2008 16:16:17 GMT
Sarth had to travel further down the bank to find her javelin. At long last, she found the telltale glint of the lime-green head of the javelin buried in a snowbank. She pulled it out, dismayed at the condition of the shaft. The entire thing was waterlogged, rotten through to the core and as soft as a sponge, despite having already frozen solid. The khajiit felt around the base of the blade, searching for the small screws that held the head to the useless shaft. She deftly loosened the trio of rivets, the blade sliding off its shaft easily. At the moment, the cat would have to strap it to her small belt, not having the materials to create a new shaft for it just yet.
Now that she had everything, Sarth turned inland, to the howling of the crazed werewolves. She crouched down, once again shedding her humanoid form to prowl through these frozen lands, in search of her prey. Tonight, she would have quite some fun...
OOC: Blech, bad post... I look forward to meetin IN's secondary character...
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Post by DarkNova50 on Oct 3, 2008 21:30:26 GMT
Will gave a curt nod once the Breton woman, this Mercury, had finished introducing herself. "Mercury, huh? Kind of an unusual name," he remarked innocently, looking the young woman up and down before giving a slight smile. "But I think it suits you. I'm Will, by the way. Will Ross." The Redguard gave another nod before glancing back in the direction of his dwelling, taking note of the distance between them and it. "The cave isn't too far from here, just over there a ways." The wind picked up slightly as he turned back to face the Breton, and he remembered her clothing was soaked through...definitely not good.
Without thinking for more than a moment on it, Will removed his wolf fur cloak, and handed it to Mercury. "Here, wear this. Like I said, the cave isn't far from here, and at least my clothes are dry." He began in the direction of the cave, crossing his arms over his chest and shielding them as best he could from the wind with his hands.
"So, what brings you to Solstheim, anyway?" he asked curiously as he trudged through the snow. "This place isn't exactly known for its scenery, and now, with the werecreatures about..."
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Post by Vicorva on Oct 4, 2008 14:48:02 GMT
Mercury smiled wryly as he commented on her name, and when he introduced himself, she nodded in acceptance of his words. He seemed to be making conversation simply to keep things comfortable- it was a nice sentiment, but one Mercury didn't appreciate at this moment, when she was feeling pretty low.
"Here, wear this. Like I said, the cave isn't far from here, and at least my clothes are dry." he said, handing her his cloak almost reflexively when he noted how cold she was. "I don't really think that's necessary..." she began, but she didn't want to appear foolhardy, and already her path to self-destruction was seeming so long ago... she put on his cloak gingerly, as if it were bite her. Made from the fur of a much better predator than I am... she thought, a little unnerved. I hope he didn't kill it and skin it himself.
But of course, the fighter types always did.
She sighed at the warmth, when Will began speaking again. She tuned back in, murmuring, "Hmm?" as if she had missed most of it, but really she was finding the right words. She didnt want to tell him why she'd come to Solstheim- not at all. In fact, she didn't even really want to think of it herself.
"Well, I'm a bard," she told the redguard. "I like to be where stuff is happening. So I guess, it's a bit like I was called here..." her words rang eerily in her own ears of what could well have happened. Though Hircine was not her creator, she heard his voice just like any other werecreature.
Was that really why she had come? She had thought she'd come to exile herself, but what if she'd only thought that was the reason? Was Hircine messing with her head? She shivered, and not from the cold.
Mercury's moods were unlike those of any other. In moments when she felt safe or cared for, her mood uplifted, regardless of whatever else was going on in her life. And the moment she thought of something frightening or sad, or saw someone else in such a condition, she became horribly depressed, and so on. It was an awful roller-coaster of emotions, and one she had no control over- she could only pretend it wasn't happening, keeping her expressions more normal.
She didn't want to dwell on her darker thoughts, so she asked, "What brings you here, then, Will Ross? Surely even the most hardy of adventurers wouldn't choose to live in this place, in a cave no less. Doesn't seem that grand to me."
She paused, and added quietly, as if to herself, "Seems more like a lonely exile."
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Post by DarkNova50 on Oct 5, 2008 5:27:15 GMT
Will gave a silent nod of approval as Mercury revealed herself to be a bard. Though he believed he gave no outward sign of it, the Redguard gave a slight, happy smile, as he imagined the young Breton girl singing a tune, the imagined voice pleasant and soothing. In years, the only singing he'd experienced were the drunken war chants of drunken Nords, and the occasional two bit performer when he happened upon Reven Rock. It seemed so long since he'd last listened to a performance that truly moved him...
It was then that Mercury asked him about his own reasons for being on the island, and, silently, remarked that it seemed almost as if like an exile. With a bittersweet chuckle, the Redguard nodded. "Yes, I suppose it does," he replied, looking up and off into the distance. "After I quit doing mercenary work for the Fighter's Guild, I travelled for a few years...I guess you could have called me an 'adventurer.' But..." He paused midsentence, silently considering his next words. "I don't know...I didn't even really think about coming to Solstheim. I just sort of...did. I guess you might even say I was called here too," he mused.
"And, once I was here, I just didn't have the drive to go back," he explained sombrely. "My parents may as well be dead; they could be anywhere on Tamriel. And I don't have anything to call my own back there." Will gave another bittersweet chuckle at the prospect of it all. "A snow covered cave, filled with salvage and traded goods, on the island the Divines forgot." He glanced back at Mercury. "Most I've ever had."
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Post by Vicorva on Oct 5, 2008 14:41:21 GMT
Near the River
A pale form travelled trudged through the snow... appendages swinging merrily despite the cold. He was quite obviously a hairy man, and one with strong, handomse features beneath the grime that coated his entire body.
His name was Dor-Dor. He was a berserker.
He was also naked.
He marched along, axe in hand, without a single thought running through his brain. Not a one. Dor-Dor had once been a very clever and very powerful man. But that was before he went mad. And once a Nord goes mad, there's no going back.
He continued ot march along. A lone wolf, fur hanging off its bones, stalked along behind him, getting nearer and nearer. Just when it was near enough to bite, it stopped, tensing its legs, preparing to leap.
It sprung into the air, even as Dor-Dor spun around with great speed, complete rage possessing him and oozing from his very expression.
"WHAAAAAAHWERRRRRWAWRRR!" he bellowed, his voice echoing out over most of the forest. The wolf's body was thrown back by the force of his yell, and landed on the ground, shaking from the force, but completely lifeless.
Dor-Dor ran over to the corpse and began hacking away at it with his axe in rage, still yelling loudly, although now without the strange power that had possessed him moments before. "YAAALLEHGDEEERRRR!"
"WOOOIBBLEEE!"
He stopped, panting, his axe and lower body coated in blood. "Meh..." he breathed, and began walking away again, thinking nothing once more.
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Mercury listened to Will with a subdued expression as he told of his sad story with complete unreserved honesty. She'd never met a man so open: it wasn't like he was trying to impress her, or even felt the need to share: he just seemed to do so without thought.
She bit her lip as she thought of how she was decieving him, and a dark feeling coiled around her heart, dampening her mood. "I know what it's like, not having much..." she told Will quietly, feeling the need to share back something of her life, to attone somewhat for her deceit. "I lost my memory some years ago. Even though I've learned a lot about who I once was, it didn't feel like me. I didn't remember any of it. I didn't remember who I was, whatever I was told. Feel like I became a new person," she paused, her expression pained. "I left a lot of people feeling very sad, but I couldn't give them what they were looking for. But by giving it up, I owned nothing. Not even my memories."
She shook her head, as if to clear her head of such morbid thoughts. "I'm sorry you're stuck on this frozen death-isle," she told Will. "How far is your cave?"
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Post by webster52402 on Oct 5, 2008 15:10:06 GMT
Vantustius felt a wave of frustration rising through him as the man tried to decipher his words, a surprising amount of rage burning up from inside of him at the thought. Gum!?! Yes, that was what everyone that was freezing in the snow wanted, a stick of gum to pass the time. And when he dared to call him mentally deficient, Vantustius couldn't help but feel a wave of bitter irony. He may just be, actually. Perhaps that padded building would keep him from hurting anyone...
But when he looked up to meet his eyes, that story changed. All of a sudden, the man, who at first looked piteously upon him, changed. There was a flash somewhere in the back of Vantustius' mind, a flash of claws, of teeth, ripping flesh, blood... Oh god, there was so much blood... Tears sprung to his eyes as the man took a jump back, the rising wave of sudden imagery actually PAINING him. Thus, it was only with a small acknowledgment that the man had moved at all, when Vantustius let his head fall down to point his gaze into the snow at his feet.
*CLICK!* That sound however, surprised Van, his gaze quickly raising once more, as a crossbow was bared at him, attached to the arm of the man that he had been talking to not moments before. A hunter of some kind!?! Vantustius was torn between fear and relief. Fear that this man may injure him, and relief at the prospect, that the knowledge of that one bold that lay gleaming on that... That...
Silver. Oh God, it burned! Just being NEXT to it was a pain, and in such a small amount... Vantustius let out a cry at the sight of the silver, moving swiftly despite his previously bedraggled and weakened state. With a strength and speed that couldn't have been his own, he quickly kicked his legs down into the ground, giving him a boost backwards as he swung himself just behind that tree that he had been leaning against, to try and get something in between him and that bolt. He said nothing else, simply panted, trying to avoid that cold, cold burn...
Instinct welled up inside of him, giving his eyes a wild, feral look as he turned his gaze to one side, half expecting the man to come chasing after him. He had to get out of here, get away from that Silver... He couldn't stand its burn...
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Post by DarkNova50 on Oct 8, 2008 18:35:16 GMT
Mercury's question jogged Will from his contemplative state, and with a brief sense of urgency he looked over to her, nodding. "It's not too far, now," he replied, while what she had described of her memory loss played in the back of his mind. "Just ahead."
Though he couldn't say he knew exactly what Mercury had gone through, he could understand, to a degree. Being left in a strange city at the age of twelve, being told to forget who your parents were, and make a life for yourself...it was akin to starting over. The only difference between them was that Mercury had the advantage of not remembering what she'd lost...
As the two of them neared the cave, Will marched forward and pulled back the thick covering of bear hides over the entrance. "It's not much," he explained to Mercury as he glanced inside. "But it keeps the wind out, and we shouldn't have to worry about any werecreatures dropping in uninvited, either." From within the cave, artificial blue light from a pair of welkynd stones he'd long ago traded for shone off the surface of the silver lodged in the rocks just at the entrance.
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