Skip's Story

Red and her son would soon find their path blocked by a young man.

"Hey. It's you," he said, beaming.

At first glance, nothing stood out as particularly threatening about the man, other than the fact that he appeared so swiftly and stealthily that he seemed to materialize out of the mist. In fact, he seemed distinctly unthreatening in almost every way: Youthful. Skinny. Smiling countenance. Even his yellow scarf and the vertical sweep of his unkempt dark hair seemed cheerful. His simple, close-fitting clothing didn't show any obvious pockets in which to hide any weapons. Still, a closer inspection of the unnatural, acidic chartreuse of his glowing eyes lent a rather unsettling, manic quality to the otherwise happy picture of the Fragment known as Skip.

"I remember you. People said you were gone," babbled Skip, strolling closer, his heels scuffing earth, dry leaves, and pebbles with each light, careless step--a gait quite unlike the silent one that had all but magicked him into the center of their path. "I heard some highwaymen had been getting dead around here under somewhat strange circumstances. Thought I might find any one of our mutual friends in the area, and then..." He pointed to a stand of trees to his left. Scorch marks scarred several of the trunks. "Careful. It's a good thing it's me that found you and not a hunter, you know?"

Of course, 'good' was a matter for debate. As any Fragment knew, another Fragment could be bad company as well as a Hound, especially if that Fragment had consumed others of his kind in the past...which Skip had definitely done around the time the Rock burst open.

He suddenly looked down at the boy as though noticing him for the first time. "What's the little guy for?" he asked pleasantly. Skip liked some humans, though he rarely had much use for tiny humans. He crouched forward, resting his hands on his knees. He tilted his head, addressing the child directly. "I like your hat."

Tick-tock. The clock went on and on, in the rather large manor. It's hand's were making the empty throne room almost boom, as was the silence. Ah, the silence how he longed to break it it was beginning to crush him. Sure Uroboro's had done enough socialising over the couple day's but he never really felt satisfied. Perhaps it was the need to get out and cause havoc, he's fragment blood taking control. He hadn't done such a thing for 8 long year's, too start now would be a shame. That single thought was holding him back from taking action.

It was a rather quite morning in the lord's castle, as explained. Uroboro's himself was preparing to set out for a gathering of noblemen. Human noblemen. It was like being a butterfly amongst moth's, of the same standing but one is just so much more dazzling. To say he did have some pride of his fragment flesh would be a understatement, he would be flaunting it if it didn't mean him getting decapitated by the hound's. Nonetheless, he would compliment himself in his own time. Uroboro's began to wash his signature silky white hair which had looked as if it was blessed from the heavens itself, before walking out of the room and into his chambers.

Uroboro's placed his hands on his wolf like door nob, a sort of mock to the hound before he gripped it rather tightly but gently shoving the door open. He walked over to the bells, which were enshrouded by the crimson light flashing through the curtains from the windows. The man gave it a mere tap, before servants were rushing to his aid. As if some child, they began to dress him appropriately for the occasion dolling him up as if some king.

Some time later Uroboro's had begun to set off to his destination, on horseback of course. It was the most elegant way of travelling and no one could take that thought away from him. Uroboro's had called some servants to accompany him, before they began setting off on route to Mount Koan. Along the way there he had saw something that had catch his attention rather finely, a fiery red haired woman who had seemed to be a giantess.

He stared at her intensely eyes with her for a moment, his unnatural shade of blue glistening like a hawk's before he turned his head away. If it weren't for the child accompanying her he would've mistaken her for a fragment. The boy himself had looked quite similar to the woman, though he couldn't tell much from the distance he was away. He had spotted another man seemingly greeting them a man of smaller stature, ''What a odd place to gather, i must say.'' He whispered to himself as he frowned. Uroboro's shook his head, clearing his mind. He would be at his destination soon enough.

“Red?”

The boy was quiet in his appearance, slipping into view not long after Skip emerged. He stepped over a cluster of brambles and undergrowth, joining the circle of activity with the same surety as if he had been welcomed into it- which, in a way, he had. Cait Sidhe, a creature bound by whim, had been invited along on the expedition here. It would stand to say that he would be invited to see the results of the search as well.

Like his companion, the Cait, Gale, appeared harmless. His stature alone gave the impression that the boy couldn’t have hurt someone if he tried- small in both height and build. Lollipop stems and caramel wrappers peeked from the lining of his coat, and his face was soft with youth. His was a form that asked protection instead of caution. However, like Skip, his eyes were a much different story; the pupils too thin, the irises too large and off colored. They held an odd hunger.

The hints of teeth when he spoke, sharp and needle-pointed, only reinforced it.

“Is that you, Red?” Gale asked again. He had grown closer, settling himself beside Skip- out of arm’s reach from the much larger Fragment, but close enough for him to get a good look at her. The boy had to crane his neck a ways back in order to do so, however, which gave an almost comical quality to the situation. “We had thought that it was one of us, but I would have never guessed that it was you behind all of this. What a pleasant surprise.” He spoke warmly, amiably, as if speaking to an old friend. “How have you been? Well?”

As Skip went on in his chattering, Gale’s eyes abruptly slid from Red to the child, studying him curiously. Taking in the bundle of jackets, the hat, the hair tucked sloppily beneath it. Gale smiled- a smile that was all lips- and, taking a few steps forward, produced a sweet from his pocket and offered it to the boy.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Gale. Want a butterscotch?”