North of the Walls, East of the River

[Keegan]

Vhalar 112, 717

It struggled.

Keegan was crouched deeply under the cover of the trees, standing flat-footed and leaning. Eager. Curious. And stick in hand. The cricket struggled again, flicking it’s legs in protest, attempting to flee it’s pursuers on weak front legs while the stronger, jumping legs were dragged helplessly behind it.

But it was no use.

While the cricket was much larger, the tree ants outnumbered the insect 100:1. There was a special sort of power in numbers, and even the strongest beast could not contest against an army. Keegan would learn this lesson firsthand, not because she had been told it in lectures, or read it in history books. But because she was here now, watching. The cricket and the ants. The army and the fallen. The cricket flailed again, weaker this time, and Keegan leaned closer, her nose now just inches from the forest floor.

”Fight.” The word was thrown into the world without gentleness, and Keegan poked the dying thing, as if prodding it would give it more will to live. ”You will fight.”

She was not a tall thing, petite in definition and even smaller now, as she curled around the cricket on the thicket floor, dwarfed by the trees that watched from above. She might have been considered a pretty thing, if not for the hallow cheeks. If not for the gaunt, malnourished protrusions of her collarbones. If not for the heavy kohl rubbed against her eyelids, hiding soft looking eyes. Perhaps then.

She blinked once, head cocking to the side. The cricket stopped struggling, and the stick jabbed at it again. ”Give them something that will fight.” She told it, but it was no use. The cricket was done fighting. It did not take long for her to accept this, and Keegan pulled the cricket free from the ants, picking it between her first fingers and giving it salvation in her palm.

The movement drew the wolfhound’s attention from a few yards away, and the leggy dog with wiry hair and stupid looking face trotted back to the woman, perhaps curious. ”Five eyes, six legs.” She explained. ”Once it loses it’s jumping legs though, it is over.” She pulled more of the ants from the cricket, finally freeing it from the lingering attackers. ”There.” And she lifted her palm a little closer to eye level, admiring her handy work. ”You are clear now.”

There was a moment then, between insect and girl. The cricket did not attempt to flee, instead waving it’s antennae softly, as if in appreciation. The woman’s lips peeled upward then, not quite a smile but something that cooled the usual harsh angles of her face. She lifted the insect between forefinger and thumb, and then popped it into her mouth with a crunch.

”Now, we go.”

”North of the walls, east of the river.” That’s what the man in the underground had said, but her directions had fallen on deaf ears. The wolfhound had scouted a scent, and was pursuing it now with just as much fervor as the woman and her cricket. Keegan finally found her true height, and with round, perhaps fearful eyes watched as the the wiry dog barreled between the trees, until all that was left was howls and yips from the distance.

[Noth]

The twilight hybrid was familiar with the struggles of nature. He had spent much of the past few arcs outdoors, especially in the act of hunting, and so he had been exposed rather handily to the many fights and battles which occurred among the denizens of the wilds. He had observed as a deer was chased by a large wolf, and had seen a rabbit swept away by a hawk that moments ago had appeared to have simply been preening its feathers. Despite his familiarity with the small-scale skirmishes occurring within the woods, he still stopped whatever he was doing whenever he had the chance to observe one, just as he was doing now.

Noth was out hunting as he was wont to do, though his food situation was not nearly as rough as he had expected it to be after returning to his trip. In honesty, he had expected a majority of the supplies he had gathered to been disposed of, but he had forgotten that the only person who actually lived with him didn’t require any sustenance, and Vern for all of her voracity and terror could still only eat as much as a goose. Nevertheless, the physicality of stalking prey combined well with his innate natural habits of predation, and so he took some fair measure of pleasure out of the act.

The hybrid had taken hold of his longbow, notched an arrow, and been prepared to fire upon a small rabbit lounging between a pair of bushes when it had quite suddenly launched itself towards him with reckless abandon. It was caught by a small and bright orange creature before it could get anywhere near him, and the thing rolled the rabbit around like it was a ball before snapping its canid jaws into its neck and ending its life with a shriek and the gentle cry that vermin elicit when their deaths draw near. He could have shot then and finished off the young fox, but instead he chose to stand still and observe the thing. It was clearly hungry, and its ribs were pressed against its side; whether that was due to a lack of food or simply that their bodies were thin and its fur was lightly spaced was up for further debate, and it dug into the meaty flesh of the rodent the instant that it had succumbed, ripping off one of its legs and gnawing upon it like a beaver might with a chunk of wood.

It was fascinating how the fox had chosen to approach him for the sake of capturing its prey, because that meant that it had risked everything for a chance at a meal. It had purposefully rushed towards a monstrous being in hopes that it would be spared, and now it simply feasted upon the corpse, apparently content with the fact that the hybrid had not yet stirred to stop it. Noth calmly took mental notes of the way that it ate of the rabbit until there was little of the small fuzzy thing left. The hybrid learned all that he could learn from the fox, and considered seriously flinching his fingers slightly so as to send the arrow directly into its gullet. It would have been a waste of life, though, and he wasn’t entirely certain that the taste of fox flesh would appetize him, especially when it had been so thoroughly tainted with the stench of rabbit.

Slowly so as not to frighten the poor thing, the twilight hybrid withdrew the arrow from its notched position and placed it back into its place, allowing his longbow to sling back over his shoulder as he continued to observe the fox. It had finished with its meal rather quickly due to its ravenous cravings, but now it simply sat there, gazing upon him as if though it expected him to make a sudden lurching move to end its life. Perhaps it was fear that kept the thing rooted to the ground, and the hybrid simply prescribed the concept of curiosity or respect onto it, humanizing the animal far more than it ought to have been humanized.

Noth was surprised for the second time that trial when he heard the sudden yipping and howling and barking reminiscent of a hunting dog. It barreled into existence, passing through some of the nearby flora and directing itself like a missile towards the suddenly frightened fox which leapt into the air with fervor and promptly skittered up the nearest tree, bounding up its length with a speed that was genuinely awe-inspiring. The hybrid was somewhat frustrated that someone’s hound had interrupted his bout of analysis upon the fox, and so he strode over to the mutt, and promptly growled a wicked and guttural noise at it, silencing it in an instant before driving his talon down upon it.

Of course, he did not slay the poor beast for interfering, but instead simply pinned it to the ground, his talon wrapped around its neck. The thing was petrified by his appearance, and though it whined, it made no motion to escape from him. He listened as another sound of breaking twigs and branches sounded from where the hound had suddenly appeared, and Noth knew that its owner would be coming soon.

And… he questioned whether that particular hunt would be more satisfying.

[Keegan]

It screamed.

A shrill sound, a familiar sound. It was the sound of surprise, of betrayal even. It rang in her ears as intimately as the first time she had heard it, though Keegan would not run to the dog's aid as it cried out in the distance. The loudness of the shriek was removed from the forest just as quickly as it had arrived, and the woods were accompanied by an eerie quiet. Not even the birds resumed their songs, and the wilderness became quiet and still, as if no living thing dare to move, for fear of being found. Such was a typical behavior of fauna when a predator was near… But Keegan was no predator.

She stepped through the forest with intention, albeit loudly, revealing a girl who did not spend too much time outdoors. Revealing a girl who did not know the laws of the forest, for she was neither still nor quiet. A twig cracked under her own flimsy weight, and that is when she saw it.

It was, in a word, a horror.

Fear was a beautiful thing. It started slowly, tendrils creeping from the very hollow of her gut and crawling up. Weaving in between an emaciated ribcage, dragging itself taut around a beating heart. Onward and upward. She would not be able to speak as it slid into her throat, knotting itself there and removing her will to speak. It was the intensity in his eyes that disheveled her so, and the burn of his gaze set pale skin flush with heat.

The dog was motionless, twisted in a heap against the floor. It panted under the talon that pinned him, and Kee might have guessed it was dead if not for the gentle whimper as she edged closer. The thump of her heart beat a little harder in her chest, and as her attentions were removed from the dog and back onto the man, she wondered if he could hear it pattering against her sternum, still wicked but afraid.

The truth was, she did not want the dog. She did not want it when she fed it poisoned stew, or when she struck it with the board. She certainly did not want it now, pathetic and struggling. But it was these small ironies she found pleasure in, and her lips might have even curled upward if she had not been immobilized by the feathered man’s gaze. For the thing that was purchased to protect her from the dangers of the wild, was the thing that needed protection now. It seemed there was a bigger predator in the woods, and if Kee had learned anything from the cricket, it was that it didn’t matter how many ants you had, something larger was just as likely to wander along and pop you in their mouth.

She let the fear linger just a moment longer, before trying to swallow it down and away. But it persisted, it’s knot threatening to choke and suffocate her. It kept her mute now, but did not keep her from stepping toward him, cocking a head to the side. Barlow Baynard had once told her that bravery was not taking action without fear, but rather taking action despite it.

They could have been standing there for a very long time in silence, Keegan would not know. It was the feathery down of his head that fixated her now, and she watched where the hair should have sprouted from his scalp. It was the long, terrifying hands, and talons that were more beast than man. Frightening, but beautiful were the Plaguedaughter’s experiments. He was a horror to look at, but damaged. Mutilated with only one wing to speak of.

”I am not done with it.” The silence of the forest was broken. Her words were delivered curtly, though her accent was as thick as syrup. Common words had a way of falling awkwardly out of the woman’s mouth, but she did not make notions to hide it, not like as she once had.

”The dog.” She said, clarifying. Her eloquence with words perhaps was, lacking in terms of heroism. But Keegan was not a hero, just as she was not a predator. She was an awkward girl alone in the woods, and while she still did not care for the wolfhound, she had grown accustomed to it.

It was not fear that she felt now, but something softer. An ache in her chest that she was not familiar with.

Weakness.

[Noth]

Noth had questioned before why creatures felt the need to shriek whenever they had been surprised by something, and he wondered whether it was for the same reason to people made such noises of shock, or whether it was for some ulterior purpose. Animals typically reacted with a loud shout or cry, and then they attempted to retreat from whatever was threatening them, some determining simply to sprint away as quickly as they could manage, and others attempting to scale some obstacle that they believed would be insurmountable to their threat. Perhaps it was some inherent part of the beast that wanted to warn its fellows that there was danger away, but he could not understand why it would want to do that from a survival viewpoint. After all, if it had allies around, perhaps one would be weaker than it, and the predator would choose to devour them. Could it be that animals had emotions too for those they considered parts of their herds, flocks, or packs? Was it the thought that they could not live without those they cared for if they were stolen away by some monster skulking in the foliage?

His thoughts were interrupted as the woods finally opened up and revealed the occupant that he had known would be approaching in search of her hound. He was not an expert on dogs, but it did not take one to see that this was likely a hunting animal, and so he had been expecting a far larger and more intimidating sort than the frail and emaciated young woman who stepped free of the bushes. She paused almost immediately once she had laid eyes upon him, and the hybrid instinctively had an impression that she was afraid. That was reasonable, she was a weak little girl in the eyes of the predatory Avriel, and if he so decided, she would not be able to save herself from him. Nevertheless, he was not so monstrous that he wanted to kill for the sake of killing, and so instead of instantly pouncing upon her; a hawk to her rabbit, he instead simply levelled his crimson gaze upon her.

The beast writhed underneath his talons as it searched for an easy way to escape, but whenever it pressed too far to the left or the right, it simply came in contact with one of his vicious avian talons, and promptly retreated back in the other direction to repeat the pathetic process. After a short while, it stopped moving entirely, and simply sat there, aware of its precarious situation. It seemed even the most pitiful mutts eventually learned the meaning of futility, and the hybrid wished he could teach that lesson to those who wanted to oppose him.

He examined the woman before him more carefully, curious as to her intentions. She was, as aforementioned, weak and frail in appearance with the hint of kohl scattered underneath his eyes which seemed to give her an even further unattractive quality, as though she was unfamiliar with sleep. Was she simply a hungry beggar searching through the woods in the hope of finding food amidst the various pieces of roughage, or was she perhaps a nomadic traveler, simply passing through the area, and well-accustomed to the possibility of not having any food for long periods of time. Perhaps she was not even truly that hungry, suffering from some unknown medical condition, or simply the product of the strange experimentation of godlings.

They stood for a very long time in silence, the bits trickling by as the crimson hybrid continued his observations, and the girl before him finished swallowing away whatever terrors plagued her, at least enough that she could speak. She could have been mute, he considered, but then she would simply have made gestures of aggravation with her hands. Instead, she had resolved to stand stock-still as time ticked ever onwards.

Finally, the quiet between them was shattered irreversibly as the woman gathered the courage to speak. It was a short sentence, and it reeked with an accent that he had not heard in quite some time. He distinctly remembered the last person he had met who had spoken in the Rhakrosiian accent, and could very nearly remember the way that her blood had spilled slightly upon his hand as he slit her throat for the benefit of the local Black Guard. He had not truly wanted to kill the spy, but his hand had been forced when she had accidentally slain one of the Etzori, and he had risked an early demise by being thought of as a collaborator to her cause. Thankfully for the woman before him, he was neither a patriot, nor inclined to eliminate her for the sake of any observers, and so she was fairly safe so long as she did not do anything absolutely ridiculous which warranted her annihilation.

She had said that she was not done with the dog. It was a curious sentence, and not entirely one that he had expected from her. He had thought that she might plead with him for the life of the canine, going for a more emotional plea, making it apparent to him that it was her beloved pet, and that it meant no harm, and that she would be grief-stricken should it perish. Instead, her response was remarkably alien to him; something befitting her culture of experimentation and disease, he assumed, and so he took a few moments to simply glance downwards at the offending mutt, questioning whether or not it had been abused in any visible way.

Strange, he thought, that a Rhakrosiian would wander so near to Etzori territory alone, and that she would not take any steps towards hiding her origins. That eliminated the possibility of her being a spy, and her relative fragility made it clear that she was not a warrior of any caliber. Perhaps a forager of exotic materials?

He loosened his grip upon the hound, allowing it to race back to its owner with renewed vigor, shooting towards her with remarkable speed.

“Stay.” He called out, holding out a palm to indicate that she should not move. He didn’t think it necessary to indicate what he would do to her if she disobeyed.

“Why are you here?” He questioned, suddenly fascinated by his find, forgetting all about the strange incident of the fox and the hare from earlier.

[Keegan]

They postured.

And while they did so, Lraihim fought against the Avriel’s grip. It writhed. It squirmed. And despite the very real instinct to flee from the Avriel, the poisoner took another step forward. It was a small, reserved stride. But a stride nonetheless. ”Do you like it?” She asked, and the dog whimpered underneath him. ”When they struggle?”

Her feet found their place in the ground. She was planted there, and finally the wolfhound surrendered to him. Keegan frowned. She wondered how long Keegan would struggle if she were under talon. And then she wondered how long it might take the Avriel to submit, if Keegan had been a big and terrible beast.

He released it then, and the wolfhound scrambled away, finally finding it’s feet and giving a thorough shake from head to tail before running back to the girl. The dog’s legs were long and meant for sprinting, and he had made it back to Keegan’s side in only a few efficient strides. The wiry hair of his muzzle nudged the woman’s arm but Keegan recoiled, wincing against the touch. She may not have been done with the animal, but she still did not want it.

He still watched her. As a predator might. Her pulse quickened when his mouth parted to speak. Anxiety felt like a sinking ship, but it would not look as such, and her shoulders would not round or cower. She would stand rooted to the floor, unmoving if not for the sudden flush in her cheeks. He told her she would be staying. Keegan would nod, digesting this.

“I stay.” Keegan had been an obedient, compliant child and grown into a woman that was used to doing as she was told. “It is only I stay because you will it, do you understand?” Somehow, making sure he knew he was keeping her against her wishes was important to communicate. Because he told her to. Because you scare me, is what she wanted to tell him, but those were not the words that came out of her mouth. “It is your eyes. They burn.” Somehow, the phrase sounded awkward in Common. ”You do not look at me, yes?” Keegan, she did not like the Avriel's eyes. But they continued to burn into her, straight through pale flesh and into toxic nerves.

She inhaled then, coming to terms with the fact that the option to run had been stripped from her. She considered knotting the fear down and away, to manipulate her weave with the magic that coursed through her. But she did not. A stubborn child had grown into a proud woman, and Keegan would not submit now, she would not take the fear lying on her back as the wolfhound did.

Instead she pressed the tired cloth bag a little closer to her body, as if the contents might keep distance between them. ”I look for tree. Red leaves.”

[Noth]

The surrender of the mongrel to him was a satisfying feeling, but it was not an unfamiliar one. There had been many persons throughout the hybrid’s life who had ultimately surrendered, though they still numbered fewer than those who had chosen to die with their dignity. Noth had never understood that notion, and even when he had been beaten and transformed by Delroth, utterly humiliated, he had not suddenly had a revelation about why those who were thoroughly defeated must choose to face their doom. No, honor and glory were merely a pair of social constructs, and they had no place amongst the dead, which made them of little use to the hybrid if the stakes had been raised to the point wherein there was a possibility of demise. In short, he was confused as to why someone would choose to die instead of choose to live for the sake of a reputation.

It was curious that the young woman’s question related so well to his own internal monologue, and he glared at her with refreshed intensity as she began to approach him. “No.” He uttered quickly, shaking his head for emphasis, but refusing to allow his eyes to wander to the foliage or fauna nearby, keeping them locked upon the girl. “I prefer it when they just give up.” He was not a sadistic sort who found it pleasurable to torment another being, even if it was not necessarily capable of thought. That wasn’t to say that he wouldn’t do something absolutely horrid like torture someone to death for the sake of achieving a political goal, or for solidifying his position as leader over others, but he would not take any pleasure in the act.

He observed as the hound returned itself to her side, and she recoiled at its touch, as if though it were something that disgusted her. That seemed to support his previous idea that it might be a captive animal, used for the sake of testing some manner of vicious Rhakrosiian experimentation. It was a shame that they devoted all of their capabilities towards finding new and terrible ways of sickening others and spreading plague to the innocent, or else they might have been spectacular researchers due to their sheer devotion to experimentation and science. Perhaps they might even manage to rival the Ellune if they had spread their focus a bit.

His order was received with obedience, and he took especial notice of the fact that she did not flinch or turn away from his dire commandment, choosing instead to submit instantly. Of course, she was not a warrior, she was far too frail and waifish for such violent pursuits, and if she had ever killed a thing in her life, it would probably have been done through use of a poisoned dart or another venomous trick. He made a mental note not to allow her to hurl anything towards him, just in case she possessed a poison of the sort. She spoke, and though it took him a few trills to decipher her sentences through her thick accent, and only general ability at speaking Common, it was enough that he could understand her.

“Yes.” He responded, accepting what she had stated, and hopefully making it clear that he did not necessarily mind that he was forcing her into standing still.

She further iterated that his eyes burned, and whilst he felt at first that this was only a commentary on their physical nature, he quickly came to the conclusion that she was instead bothered by the fact that he had not ceased in his predatory observations since she had first come into view. He simply nodded his acceptance of that fact also, but he subverted his eyes to the side by a few feet, looking instead at the tree where the fox had vanished only a few trills earlier, though she was kept within his peripheral vision, and he pointed towards her to make it clear that he had not lost sight.

His question was answered quickly by the girl, and she began to identify her desired object. There were many trees which had red leaves, especially given that it was Vhalar, but it seemed unlikely that a denizen of Rhakros would be searching for any basic leaf. No, she was looking for something in particular, and whilst he was not a patriot by any means, he did not enjoy the idea of having an agent of an enemy nation wandering around the sovereign territory of his city-state, scouring unattended for some hidden reagent with which she might concoct a new plague.

“Why?” He uttered shortly, refusing to make his sentences too lengthy lest she be unable to understand. “What does it do?”

And, if it was anything he wanted? He'd just have to come along with her.

[Keegan]

"Common"
"Xanevic."

She would regret asking him the question. And fear was now the knot in her throat, threatening to claw at her breath.

She would not find reprieve from his gaze, not even to shake his head. She swallowed, albeit not easily, and nodded a small acknowledgment. He preferred it when they just gave up. Keegan could appreciate this, also preferring convenience over struggle. But Keegan preferred many things over confrontation. The smell of old books, for one. Being left alone. The sound of silence.

If her eyes twitched away from the black of his feathers then, it was only for just a moment. There were a handful of trees to her immediate left, and tall thorny bushes to her right. Left was not the way to the whipping willow, but it was surely the more convenient direction. And Keegan did not want to struggle. Blue eyes blinked again toward the left, memorizing the position of the shrubbery. Just in case.

The wolfhound would not be bothered by Keegan’s public dismissal, and it would handle the rejection with a nudge into Kee's hip when her hand had not been available. Keegan hadn’t expected this, and the sudden weight of the animal against her tousled her slightly. She tripped forward to keep from stumbling into the underbrush. ”Stupid fucking thing.” The Xanevic words stumbled out of her mouth before she had a chance to realize they might have ugly repercussions. Her eyes lifted from the dog, and a once painted expression was now raw with fear and embarrassment. It wasn’t a secret that Rhakrosii were not welcomed this far outside of the jungle.

And yet, here she was getting rosy cheeked from her citizenship, when she was being held against her will by whatever he was. Kee might have smiled an appreciation for the irony... if she could only swallow the knot in her throat.

He was casual and irritatingly unconcerned when he spoke next. ”Why.” For a moment, she considered adding that she did not have any nel on her, but Keegan was not so naive to assume the monster was a petty bandit. Eyes like that had seen more than wagon thefts and tavern brawls.

It was an interesting thing then, when he subverted his eyes and consented her wishes. He stared off toward the trees instead, the direction she had fantasized escape just moments prior. To say she relaxed would have been an overstatement, but her knees felt less stiff without his eyes, and her shoulders found a little bit of softness. Instead he pointed with long, bird-like hands.

"That is rude where I come from.” The words would have been insolent if they had been delivered in Common, but Keegan was not a bold woman, preferring to mask her thinly veiled venom behind the safety of her mother tongue. She fixated on the pointed talon, nearly polished in the diffused light. It might have been pretty, the luster of the talon. If only it had not been attached to such a hideous thing.

Kee perked visibly at his next question, and her mouth peeled into a grin that was both eager and polite. Plants were of her deepest fixations, and the mere suggestion of conversation of the whipping willow soothed her somewhat. Keegan found comfort in the memory, when she first flipped the page to the Whipping Willow, with its drooping branches and deep red leaves. But what did it do? She scrambled for the word in Common. It was not venom, that was snakes, and spiders. What was it? ”It is a toxin…” She said, outwardly frustrated, and unfortunately in Xanevic.

”Medicine.” She finally said, but the Common word felt awkward in her mouth.

Close enough.